Sleep, Baby, Sleep

Waa! Waa!

I groan and squint at the glowing numbers on our digital clock.

3:30 a.m.

Zora is up, again. Crap. Maybe she'll go back to sleep.

Waa! Waa!

I imagine her standing in her crib in her little Sweetpea sleepsack bellowing at the door, "Hello? Hello! I'm ________ in here!"

I insert the blank, because we can't figure out why on earth she gets up every night. I've consulted books, friends, other parents, and I'm ready to try the Magic 8 ball. Answers range from separation anxiety to hunger to teething.

Since she IS getting her top two canines in (yes, she's baby Dracula), I at first settled on teething. But after giving her children's Tylenol for almost a week straight, I started worrying about pickling her little liver with the cherry flavored stuff. Besides, she still woke up.

I know, I know: once a night isn't really bad compared to some other children who keep their parents zombified for years at a time. But Rodney and I have tasted the sweetness of a full night's sleep, and it's HARD to go back.

For now, we take turns getting up with her in the night, and thankfully she's a sweet little thing when she does get up. One night while we were snuggled on the couch together, a coy grin crept across her face, and she offered me her bottle, as if to say, "Here, Mommy. You need this more than I do."

Yes, baby girl. I do.