Today our BFF Liz, soon to be Dr. Liz of biology, sent us some info we have long been waiting for. Eating dirt is good for you. For real. The New York Times said so, and they are super smart, like Liz. Actually, it turns out Harper owes a lot to dirt, her good health, her good digestion, and if we ever see it again, if this cruel winter ever passes, if the snow and crunchy layers of gray ice that have accumulated over of it ever melt, if the sun ever comes out and the Arctic wind retreats, hours of entertainment.
Skylar's work hosted MG Fest over the weekend, so we got to go out on a Saturday night. You read that right. We left the house, without the baby, with each other. It was pretty amazing. I have to say, Saturday night was even better than I remembered it. There was free booze, bunches of cookies made by yours truly and fun friends.
The only drawback was that we left the house at 8:00, leaving Harper wailing in her crib, awake an hour past her bedtime and furious. Hearing your baby cry is never fun. Leaving her while she was crying turned my stomach up into 15 knots tied by the most studious of boy scouts. Skylar's cousin, Elizabeth, and her friend were baby sitting. They were only able to solve the problem with Cheerios in her exersaucer in front of the TV. And there she fell asleep. I wish I had seen it.
We are having bed time issues here. I would say more about it, but I have absolutely no idea what is going on. Baby does not want to sleep, she would rather cry. No fun for anyone. I am trying to write this in between attempts at getting her to sleep. Skylar is working late, so the baby & my night has gone a little like this:
- Baby screams bloody murder.
- Pick up baby; screaming stops.
- Rock baby and sing 'Wheals on the Bus'; baby sleeps.
- Set baby in crib. Leave the room.
- Screaming begins again.
- Wait for her to cry herself to sleep.
- Blog.
- Hope She'll at least get more sleepy.
- Wonder if neighbors have called child services yet.
- Pick up baby; repeat cycle.
Anyway. Harper had some work buddies over on Sunday. The closet was a big hit. All three of them piled in there and played with the noisy toys. Oodles of fun. We rarely play with other kids on the weekend, and I hope we start doing it more often. It can be cool to playgroup it up, you know.
I should get her before the neighbors call the police. Maybe I will just pull out the exersaucer, some Cheerios, and call it a night. Riddle me this, people: Why is bed time so tragic at 11 months, when she loved it at 4 weeks until now (with a rough spot or two)?