Rough Nights, Good Mornin's

For as long as I can remember, I've sung "Good Mornin'" from Singin' in the rain to Teagan every morning when I go into her room to get her out of the crib. She usually jumps around and claps her hands while I'm singing and turning off nightlights and noise machines and opening curtains. Today she surprised me. She sang with me. Technically speaking, she sang it after me, but it was such an amazing surprise.

And to think, I almost wasn't going to sing it to her out of spite because I was grumpy about her not sleeping in after a particularly restless night.

I'm not sure where the switch is that flipped, making Teagan avoid sleep like the plague, but I NEED to find it. <eye twitches>  Gone are the days when we laid her down and she rolled over, whispering "Good night" immediately before nodding off for 14 continuous hours. Sigh. A girl who made sleeping a hobby is now an insomniac who fights it until the bitter end. I don't remember exactly when it started, but it's been weeks now that we're all up three and four times a night. The weird thing is that all she seems to need is some love and attention. One of us goes in, picks up all the things she's thrown out of her crib in a fit of rage, wraps her up in a blanket, shoves a binky in her mouth and sits down in the rocking chair. Usually by this time, she's already ridiculously close to being asleep. We sit in the rocking chair, swaying back and forth, me struggling to contain her unusually tall body in my arms. In a few minutes, she's fast asleep and we tuck her in for a couple of hours until she shrieks once more. Lately she's been making a game of it and pretending to be asleep. She appears to be out like a light, and I'll look down at her and her eyes are wide open. It's creepy and funny at the same time. It takes an incredible amount of will power not to laugh out loud. Somehow, the fact that it's 3:00 in the morning helps me hold back my chuckles. When she isn't surprising me with her huge baby blues, she's reaching out from her ramshackle swaddle and stroking my face. It would be sweet if it wasn't the wee hours. Okay, in spite of the fact that it's so early it hurts, it melts my heart.

While I much prefer to see her smiling little face in the daylight, I have to remember that she won't always be this little and she won't always need me so I'm trying to do my best to enjoy our little snugglefests. A work in progress, to be sure. I hope she doesn't give me too many more opportunities to embrace the moment.