It’s 3:32am, Lexi is wide awake, intermittently babbling and shouting at us. Her voice is starting to get hoarse from all of her talking (going on two hours) and we are losing our resolve to continue the sleep experiment.
My husband looks over at me and whispers, “Something went very wrong here tonight.”
I grab his hand fiercely. “She’s trying to break us,” I whisper vehemently under my breath. “Don’t give in. Stay strong. If she breaks us now, we’ve lost forever.”
He makes eye contact with me. “I think I’m hallucinating. I have no idea how we’re supposed to function tomorrow.”
I squeeze his hand to impart strength. “As long as you’re neither seeing Elvis nor moving towards the light, I think you’ll be fine.”
Regardless of how our nights are going (badly), Lexi’s disposition does not appear to be suffering. Here’s a picture of the kids yesterday at the park. I don’t think they can get any cuter.