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Tuesday
Jan052010

I Always Feel Like...

Somebody's watching me...

And I am, Emmy. Mommy's always got an eye on you. But she didn't get the memo on your propensity for crawling all around your crib and reaching for the books we read you before nappy time. 

We came into her room to give her one last goodnight stare and found her like this. Wedged in the end of the crib longways, with FOUR books on her. I mean, we're big fans of literacy and all, and The Good Doctor won't read a book unless it has color pictures, but it's not like we bury our baby in books and say, "Goodnight Emmy. Don't get a crick in your neck from lying on a book when you're done reading!" But we got in the habit of stacking the books on the rail on the far end of the crib. 

We realize now, there is no far end of the crib, and books on the rail are just like slabs of red meat dangling over the side of the tiger cage. Tempting bait. No more bait for Emmy. Just a few bedtime stories, then lights out, books on the floor. Sleep tight little Tigress.

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