For those who are interested, last night was a little better. Nora did wake up to eat, and I did feed her -- and that was it. I'm trying my hardest to keep her on a tight three-hour today, if indeed she will let me. (If I try to feed that sweet little child before she's good and ready, I might as well forget about it. She has the bottle snub down pat.)
Anyway, I was up another time last night, to tend to Phoebe. She occasionally wakes up disoriented in the wee hours, and she's a little bit scared. Now that she's talking like nobody's business, she'll often cry out for Mama or Dada... last night, it was just a whimper that I heard while putting Nora back to bed. I came in to find her sitting up, feeling around for Lamby. But she looks up with those big eyes and says, "Mama hold?" Oh, melt! After a sweet, through-the-crib-rails hug... I laid (lay?) her down, cover her back up, and tuck that Lamby back under her arm. And then, with a sweet, quiet voice she says...
Oh honey. It's 2am and you want to read. You are more like your mother than I care to admit.
No, I didn't indulge her request. But I already have visions of that little bug squinting by the light of her nightlight trying to devour her latest Clifford or "mouse" tome when she wakes at 2am in a big girl bed with a basket of books by her bedside. Sounds like someone I know!