Somnolent

In my lunch box of lovely sounding words, the kind that you can sniff, roll around in your mouth, and pour smoothly into your very being, somnolent is among my favorite. It is such a lazy, dozy, round, liquid word.

I shouldn't write this post yet; it is tempting the fates. Today is Friday, April 25th. Last Friday was the last night that a 33" tall person walked into my room in the middle of the night. It's been over a week since either of us had to get up with him or listen to him cry himself back to sleep or put him back in bed after he fell out. The actual BED-TIME is still a little rocky, but the gate is effective. Duncan still gets out of bed and stands at the gate to express his disapproval; however, it's more of a political move at this point. It's not a "how can you do this to me you're so mean" cry; it's a "why can I not get my way" cry. It also seems to have a half life. We started with the hour of crying, which decreased to 30 minutes in the same day, which decreased to 15 the following day. One night it only took 5 minutes, but that was the night I was FOOL (very ugly word) enough to take this photograph, which brought Duncan back to the gate for ANOTHER 15 minutes. Fool.

I am tempting the fates because we're at Nana and Poppy's house. We're trying Duncan's travel tent for the first time. He has played in it, but we haven't tried sleeping in it for about a year. He is actually asleep in it at this moment; we'll see if he stays there. We're also sleeping in the same room with him, which we have not attempted for a while. I'm crossing my fingers.

I am genuinely hoping that my next post will be about something other than sleep because, frankly, I grow weary of myself. We may have successfully survived our latest month of sleep perdition (I'm not sure if I can publish the h e double hockey sticks word). Night night, sleep tight. Don't let the love bugs bite. Sweet dreams!