Nightowl Nora

Nora has been, for the most part, sleeping in Fiona's bed. At this point we are trying to start calling it "the big bed" instead of "Fiona's bed" to mark the subtle trend. She also found a 'counting sheep' nightgown that Fiona used to wear in yesterday's Spring clothing try-on fiesta, and since it was clean when I last packed it I went ahead and let her wear it last night before I gave it another wash. It made her look so grown up!

Last night around midnight as I was getting ready for bed, the bathroom door clattered open and Nora stumbled in, eyes bleary with sleep and excessive light. She looked as if she was being guided to me by her round toddler Buddha belly, which took on a slightly oxymoronic look against that big-girl nightie. Her little bare feet, still chubby with baby fat, slapped the floor with resolute intent.

It didn't take Nora too many nights to figure out that a bed without crib rails was mighty convenient. Freed from the bonds of her crib, Nora looked up at me with her sleepy brown eyes and crooned, "I need to nurse, Mama-cat." Somewhere between the use of the pet name and the wild upswept tornado of damp curls, I lost my no-night-nursing resolve.

Ian-- who does the lion's share of the nighttime parenting for just this reason-- entered the bathroom at about this time. He took a highly dissatisfied Nora back to her room and, within minutes, had her contentedly tucked back into bed. I wish I knew how he managed that!

We talked for a little while about her transition to a bed, and about her readiness for weaning. Mainly, though, my mind continued to circle back to that big girl we have who sometimes wears a nightgown now-- just like her big sister.