Your naps are consistently longer than the chunks that you sleep during the night.
It’s like you know that if you cry at night, I will be in such a coma that your cry hits the automatic button in my brain that propels my feet to the floor and my body into action.
Please sleep tonight. Can we only get up 1 time . . . even 2 times? I won’t complain.
Jumping. You are like Tigger. (Not that you know who Tigger is.) The boys like you vertical rather than horizontal. Meaning they beg me to put you in the jumper.
I think it makes them think you are playing toys with them.
And so ends Day 218. Daddy fed you dinner while I took the boys and the dog for a walk. You ate 2 bowls – asparagus and carrot with chicken stock.