Wednesday, August 29, 2012

Sleeping Beauty

In a valiant effort to give me some time to rest before lunch, Tom took Abby and Michael on a long walk, around the neighborhood, in the double stroller.  Unfortunately, Abby nodded off at some point during their travels.  This made for a cranky lunchtime, and a nap-averse toddler.

She actually didn't really fight me going down (partly because I've mastered some awesome redirection tricks to salvage even the rockiest placement in the crib), but then she spent the next hour-and-a-half not actually sleeping.  Thankfully, she kept herself perfectly entertained during all of that time, so I didn't have to intervene in any way, but the end result was that her regularly scheduled 1-ish-o-clock nap time was pushed all the way to 3:00, when the baby monitor finally went quiet.

She usually only naps for 90 minutes, though she will occasionally push past two hours.  I'm not generally inclined to wake her when this happens- I figure that if she's sleeping that long, it's because she needs it.  However, with a start time of 3:00, the end-time of a two-hour siesta was pushing close to five-o-clock.  Naps past that hour spell trouble for bedtime. 

So, I tiptoed upstairs, figuring that she'd be so close to waking that the opening of the bedroom door would prompt her to sit up and look around.  But when I entered the room, I could see that she was out.  I really hated to wake her, but it had to be done. 

Before I reached down to touch her back, however, it occurred to me that I get so few opportunities to photograph her sleeping, since there's always the risk of waking her in the process. 

It was a little too dark to forgo the flash, but for some reason, the pictures were coming out completely overexposed, initially.  Since it took a few tries to get the settings right, I was only just getting going when the constant flashing roused my pretty lady from sleep. 

This was the ill-planned shot that woke her up (you really can't see her through the crib-bars, anyway).

The creature stirs!

But she woke up smiling and happy, so I call that a success all-around.

And here's my big moment of the day:

Abby, in the midst of rough-housing with her brother, grabbed his ankles, looked up at me, and said, quite enthusiastically, "Love Michael!"  Attempting to capitalize on this, I eagerly prompted, "And do you love Mommy and Daddy, too?"  A devilish smile was all that I could get out of her.

That's just how she rolls.  But she surely loves her little brother.