In the last week, I've been putting Sabine in her crib (she only climbed out once and has since forgotten how--I love my little genius) at night with a kiss, a pillow and a "sweet dreams." The little monster lays down, closes her eyes and goes to sleep--without a peep. And I don't hear from her until 7 a.m., when she starts bellowing, "MAAA" at the top of her apparently huge, foghorn-like lungs. She gave me wrinkles and grey hair, but now I'm seeing stars and unicorns--and much more of my own bed. Sleep and my own pillow have never felt this blissful.
PS Teeny tiny Sabine also hated cars. And I mean loathed them. A two-block trip to the grocery store included high-pitched, heart-wrenching, distraught sobbing that might make a first-time mother sell the car and never go anywhere again except on two legs. I am happy to report that those days, too, are over. Now--as long as Feist is in the CD player and Grover and Ernie are in her lap--little monster loves a road trip.
|Sabine in her car seat before she learned to love the open road.|