It’s been a long day. I don’t feel well, Ruby doesn’t feel well. So when 7:00–bedtime–rolled around, I was gloriously, wearily happy to be putting Ruby down. I set her down and she cried for about ten minutes. I popped my head in to check on her and make sure she hadn’t wiggled into a corner of her crib and jammed her head at an awkward angle (as she is wont to do). Little did I expect to see a distressed, tear-stained face peeking over the side of the crib, small hands clutching the railing for stability.
Ruby had pulled herself up to a standing position to wail her woes to the world. She wanted to be sure I heard.
So I nursed her a bit more, set her back down, said goodnight, and raised the railing on the crib again.