Kitten was pretty good at the sleeping thing last week, which was a fine coincidence with my being on Kitten Watch during that time.
Last night, though, gas pains and general orneriness had her popping out of bed like a jack-in-the-box from about 11 to Midnight (or perhaps beyond — at some point there was an unspoken “tag, you’re it” from me to Margie).
Then she woke up whilst I was about my breakfast this morning. I think I got her back down, but since I then immediately dove into my car and drove off, I can’t be certain.
It’s always a challenge of what to do when you find Katherine up and standing in the middle of the floor. Do you pick her up and put her back in bed? Sometimes that gets sleepy acquiescence, sometimes that provokes loud, further-awakening wails of protest. Do you offer to read a book? Sometimes that’s all she needs, sometimes it turns into a loud, further-awakening contest of which book (answer: none of the ones in the room). Do you offer to go get a sippy cup of something? Sometimes you return to find her back asleep. Sometimes you return to find that your reentering the room woke her back up. Sometimes you don’t return, only to have her wail in protest fifteen minutes later (or after you’ve gotten all settled and snuggled back in bed and relaxed and your breathing back to normal, whichever comes first) because you didn’t come back.
It’s like Russian Roulette, but with sleep-impaired judgment. All I have to say is that I can’t imagine doing it as a single-parent family.