|Samuel L. Jackson narrates on David Letterman|
Jill’s been a good sleeper since, with interment waves of teething and bad dream cry out wake-ups. Fast forward to summertime and longer days: Jill doesn’t want to go to bed. She sees the remaining sunlight and wants to play – in her room, with her musical activity table, on the dog, outside, watching Thomas, anything but lying quietly in bed. And so bedtime has successfully (by Jill’s notes) been pushed back to 8 p.m.
Fairmont Battery Wharf, a walking culinary tour and a team dinner at Antico Forno. It was after 8:30 when I finally got home. Jill fell asleep only 10 minutes earlier, Tony said. It was a multi-step, multi-try, multi-cups-of-milk and multi-cups-of-Cheerios bedtime. Jill was handing Tony his cell phone as if to say, “Mom’s not here. Call her and tell her to come home right away.” I tiptoed up the stairs and into Jill’s room, leaned over the crib railing and brushed the hair away from her eyes. She was sweating. Wrapped herself so tightly in her blanket that she was sweating. Then she woke up and saw me. HUGE smile. I lifted her up for a lighter clothing swap and she hugged me tightly. All of the sudden Jill was wide awake; it was playtime; and it was pushing 9 p.m. And I thought I wasn’t going to see her Monday night. Silly me. Please refer to above mentioned book.