I’m too tired to be writing this

According to Viola, the world is about to end every night around 9:00. Then, around 2 am, she changes her mind and decides everything’s ok. At least, that’s how I interpret the look of utter desperation on her face as she screams and cries inconsolably during these hours.

And yet we, her parents, continue the nightly farce of “going to bed” by doing such ridiculous things as changing into bedclothes, brushing our teeth, and turning out the lights. As if we were going to actually sleep - and sleep together, at the same time - like we used to before we had a newborn. Instead, we take turns with the little girl, applying myriad interventions which sometimes work for up to 10 minutes at a time. Last night after exhausting my lullaby songbook (Sweet Child O’ Mine; 4 + 20 by Crosby Stills Nash & Young) I saw limited success with walking really fast and jiggling the outward-facing baby around the house. She paused with tear-stained cheeks and stared at the scenery, but she was no closer to sleeping. Swaddle, unswaddle, swing, rock, bounce, sing, shoosh, feed, hold, put down…tonight we will try adding bath and massage, and see if that buys us an hour of positive outlook.

On the other side of the coin, Viola was her sweet self during her first sponge bath:

Her umbilical cord stump fell off today, so we are free to bathe her in water now. Speaking of which, the time is nigh…