Once upon a time in a land far, far away from California, a stubborn little one year old girl fell asleep. Or at least that's how the story should go. If I had my way, it would be written in permanent ink on the crib so that she'd remember it. Given our luck, she'd slurp the ink off and make a permanent stain on her chin.
Take one stubborn little girl, one stubborn mama, and one stubborn grandma. Sprinkle in a smidgeon of patience, a heap of giggles, and a plate of ravioli. Stir. Gently rinse with warm water. Wrap in a blankie and tuck into bed with a kiss. That's how it should go every night, like a story. Not like a three ring circus of Mama moaning "I'm tired." and Grandma taking a well-deserved nap before she rises again to wrangle the toddler so that Mama can go back to sleep and nurse her sore tummy.
Through it all I see the shining eyes of my baby girl, and I hear her giggles as I fall asleep, and it makes me smile no matter how achy or crappy I feel.
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