Day 8

My daughter loves to dance.  Like LOVES to dance.  All the time.  With or without music.  She's a dancing fool.  She's dancing around the living room right now to the sound of passing cars and crickets.  She's adjusting to the move fairly well, I think.  With the singular exception of sleeping.

Part of it isn't her fault.  We bought a crib for Matthew three years ago, and in our move from Massachusetts somehow all the hardware mysteriously walked away.  And in the time since we disassembled the thing, the manufacturer went out of business.  I have tried in vain to cobble together hardware to put it back together, but it's becoming clear that it is an impossible task.  

We bought a second crib a while ago, but it's at my mom's house.  We have a nanny that we love in Conway, and the commute to the hospital is better from there than it is from where we moved.  It was going to be a big enough adjustment moving, I didn't want to take her away from one more source of stability.

So the point of all that is to say that we don't have a bed for Laney at the new place.  So she's been sleeping in with us.  Except that she doesn't really sleep well with us.  She wakes up constantly and wants to cuddle or play or poke me in the eye or kick me in the spine or all the other fun things toddlers want to do to make their parents miserable in the middle of the night.

I don't really have anything to talk about this evening.  So I'll babble about cribs for a while.  And dancing.  She really does love dancing.