After about two weeks of good sleeping, Liza has regressed. It’s unfair, like going to a restaurant, ordering off the menu, having your food placed before you, and right as you start to eat, having the food taken away and replaced with rocks. Her poor sleep may have something to do with her teething. Two weeks ago she had no teeth as befits her Alabama heritage. Now she is producing teeth at a rate of one every thirty-one minutes.
She has taken to waking up in the middle of the night and hanging out for an hour or two. You can rock her, and she’ll lie in your arms, staring at nothing while she idly plucks at the skin on your neck. The night before, this began at 3:30 AM. Last night she started around 2:15. Simple extrapolation tells me that, come this weekend, she’ll be waking up an hour before she goes to bed, causing an existential crisis that will prevent any of us from sleeping.