For the Glow Worm Omnipotent Reigneth

My child finally decided that it was time to pass out.

I instigated the nap process at 1:10 PM. Since I took her to the park this morning, fed her lunch, and then gave her a bath, I assumed her obviously exhausted self would not object. After brushing her hair and letting it dry for a while, I placed her in the crib and proceeded to read her five bedtime stories. We then sang along with her glow worm, which has become a customary part of the calming process since she decided to climb out of her crib last week. I am terrified that she will try it again, so I sing to her for a little while. She is usually content to let me leave after “Rock a Bye Baby,” and she promptly falls asleep.

Not so, today. I could hear Violet talking to herself as I spoke with a friend on the phone. After several minutes of overhearing her baby jabber, I decided I should check on her. She had been playing with her feet: upon seeing me, she sprang up and immediately put a leg up on the crib rail, ready to climb out. I, instead, lifted her out. She ran upstairs, insisting that we watch Superman. I complied, and gave her some milk in the hopes that a fuller tummy might make her drowsy.

Now, several books, many admonitions not to climb out of her crib, an empty threat of spanking, a baby back rub, and many (many) songs later, I am sitting here utterly exhausted. Even after I left the room, I could hear her calling me. “Momma, come here. Momma, come HERE.” Of course, when she says it, the plea is pronounced with an accent reminiscent of New England: “Mommuh, come eee—yah. Mommuh, come eee—yah.”

Hard to resist such adorable heckling. But I’m very glad I did, because she is FINALLY ASLEEP.

Halle-freaking-lujah.