Memoirs of a zombie

Well, well, well. Here I am blogging in the middle of the night. My youngest is, (how shall we say this?) stubborn. My grandma used to say that she had squeaky eyelids; every time she closed her eyes, someone woke up. Either I have a really bad case, or else Ava has supersonic hearing. I swear. every. single. night. She wakes up just as I am about to welcome the sandman. And then she has the gall to stay awake screaming at the top of her lungs in registers barely audible to humans for hours. Yes, you read that right, hours. Tonight we are now approaching the two hour mark. It doesn't matter what I do to help her, she just screams and stays awake. To be perfectly honest, this is why I have dragged my feet about weaning her. Nursing is the only thing that will calm her down. Tonight she played extra dirty pool by waking Mallory up. In the past, my sleep training has included staying by the bedside of the baby while they went to sleep and then gradually leaving, each night, sooner and sooner. Thereby ensuring that they knew I knew where they were and that I loved them, but that it was just time to go to sleep. Not this one. Uh-uh. She is something else. Someday her umm.....determination will serve her well. In the middle of the night though, its just obnoxious.

WAIT! What's this I hear?? The melodious sound of silence?? Oh blessed hour!