Katherine was awake with the sitter when we got home around 10 last night. (Which was not unexpected, and we’d cleared ahead of time with the sitter.)
She went down without too much angst.
Then was up at 12:30a, screaming and yelling and unhappy and only Mommy could comfort her (while Daddy lurked in the hallway like a helpful Figure of Death in White Boxers). That ran for about 30, 45 minutes, before Margie, with patience to put the saints to shame, finally got her lying down and sleeping, rather than asking for a (unspecified) story, rearranging her bears, using the anti-Monster flashlight, getting a sippy cup, rejecting a sippy cup, and everything else she could figure out to keep awake and with Mommy in the room. But Margie finally prevailed.
Until about 2:30a, when the whole cycle started anew.
Oh, wait, maybe that was 3, and 2:30 was when we decided on a “Tough Love” approach. Calm, supportive, but short. “Okay, Daddy’s going back to bed now.” “NOOOOOOO!!!!! I AM ONE OF THE LOST SOULS OF THE DAMNED, AND YOU’RE GOING BACK TO BED!!!”
I recall going back for two booster shots of that particular drama.
Anyway, she was up at 7:30a, in time for us to start slowly, creakily moving our way to church.
I think it’s going to be a very quiet day today, for all of us.
But, damn, she’s got a cute smile.