What the heck? Someone deposited this strange baby in our house, a baby who sleeps unswaddled, who coos and shrieks herself to sleep, now, without any contorted machinations from us. Who is this strange child, masquerading as our Nolie?
Four glorious naps and counting; only one night-waking last night, with no need for a swaddle. A rested, happy baby. Seeming just a little bit older today.
What? What is that smell? Is that freedom? I think it might be. I think it might be the glorious odor of sleep, wafting its way down the halls of possibility, coming my way.
Could potty training her older sister be far behind? Dare I hope?