I had spent two hours lying down with Juniper trying to get her to nap, and after she bit my elbow, scratched my face and then laughed when I said, "NO! That's NOT NICE." I got up. And because of that, Osa thought it was her dinner time and started her own routine of pacing, begging, leaning, and pushing Juniper out of her way to get to me. Oh, my mammals.
All of this wouldn't have been so aggravating if Juniper had slept more than a few hours last night. Last night, we put Gizmo to bed and awoke just after midnight with a gremlin. Like, a flopping around the bed, crawling over us, periodically crying but mostly jabbering (ball? bird! dad? door!) ALL. NIGHT. LONG. She crashed hard about an hour before the alarm went off.
The general consensus from my man's co-workers was: teething. But if June bug is under the influence of teething pains, she's what us adults would call a happy drunk. Really, I can't complain too much about a happy drunk.
So I hung up with my husband, blasted some Bob Marley (a tonic for the nerves), swung and danced my little gremlin around and topped it off with a pan of brownies (for me--Juniper got a tangerine).
:: And this was absolutely NOT what I intended to write about tonight. Last week we were in Montana. And here is a sneak preview of my next post:
Sam. Welcome to the world little man!