The Dance

So by "the dance" I mean the last hours (hour [singular] if I'm lucky) before Maizey goes to sleep for the night--and by "night" I mean the period from about 11pm to 4am. The dance begins with the final change for the night, then there is the is-this- a-good-night-or-is-this-a-bad-night five or so minutes. If it's good she falls asleep in minutes, if it's bad, all hell breaks loose. Tonight is a bad night. The dance began around 9:30pm and it continues now at 12:53am. The good news is that we're nearing the end--the part where she appears to be totally passed out, but then all the sudden throws her head back for no apparent reason. If I move too soon and try to conclude the dance, it could be all over and we could have to start over again. I must be able to move Maizey out of the Bjorn or Moby and into her swaddle sack then into her cradle--it's a risky maneuver with even the sleepiest of babies. I've learned that motherhood is just a series of weighing out options--if I move Maizey too soon, then she wakes up and I have to start all over. But, if I risk it and try to move her when it appears that the coast may have cleared then I could, potentially, get those precious extra moments of sleep. You see my dilemma. So, anyway, while you're all asleep, snuggled warmly in bed, dream of me -blogging- and longing for that special moment each night/very early morning, where I get to put my tightly swaddled bambina (I just call her Bambi for short) into her cradle and get to fall into bed and cozy into the warmth of a job well done--for about the next four hours.

I'm happy to report that Ms. Maizey is tuckered out and tucked in for the night/morning.

This is satisfaction/relief.

I'll post some new pics hopefully tomorrow. I would do it now, but that would mean less sleep for poor, old, me.