Not only are you adorable, but you are clever. Since my last letter to you, it is clear that you have chosen not to be sold to the highest bidder on the black market. And further, you are considerate. You ensured that you communicated this wish to us before we had begun the tedious work of developing marketing copy and securing advertising space.
It’s been at least a week now that you’ve slept-in until the requisite humane time of 6 a.m. And this morning? 6:45 a.m. With these kind of sleeping habits, we could raise our asking price, don’t you think?
Just joking. You’re stuck with us now. But don’t worry, it’s not all bad — we do a great chocolate birthday cake in this house. Just 4 more days now.
You know how they say that little girls grow into women who marry men just like their fathers? I think there’s alot of truth in that. And that’s why I’m especially glad to have you as my father. It means that not only did I grow up with a kind, generous man, but that I now share my life with one too. Thanks Dad. You’re the best of the best.
Could it be possible that this haphazard-looking mess be the sacred answer? (Sure, it might not look like much, but when you’re sleep-deprived, one’s hopes and dreams get a tad basic.)
It’s pretty much a given that if a child does not develop excellent sleeping habits by the age of one, we will sell said child to science. Our first child is almost seven; so far so good. Our second child is approaching his first birthday. He has recently starting waking up at 5 a.m. We are firm in our belief that anything before 6 a.m. is inhumane. It’s looking like his days are numbered.
Yesterday, my Beloved heard a tip from Grandfather that it might be the light causing him to do this new schedule of inhumane-waking-thing. Uh, duh … the sun does rise earlier in the summer! Why hadn’t we thought of that? Oh yeah, because we were up at 5 a.m.
Anyhow, Beloved comes home and immediately tears daughter’s favourite quilt off her bed to hang over the blind already in son’s room and then proceeds to stuff every available blanket in the remaining space to ensure that no crack of evil sunlight enters the room. (He really does like this child and is not keen on selling him.)
It was certainly not an elegant solution. As you can plainly see.
But, hey, baby didn’t wake until after the “safe” hour of 6 a.m. this morning. We’ve left the make-shift window contraption up again for tonight in the hope that we will get a repeat performance. Even daughter didn’t mind loaning her quilt to such a worthwhile cause.