I'd blog more if Gestated Cinco wasn't all "WHEE!!!! SLEEPING!!!!" It's almost as if she's heard the phrase "Lay down and go to sleep" and translated it to "Get down and go to sleep." She's downright funky when sleeping. Thrashing and kicking and streching, and as we are visiting grandma's house, she's in bed with us. So here we are, in Cinco's personal disco, without the benefit of alcohol. Not that Cinco's deprived. Her own personal wet bar is at her disposal, as is her father's arm if she wants to really live it up. All while sleeping. So you can't really be annoyed with her, because all I thought I wanted was a baby who slept, I didn't actually request sedated sleeping.
She sleeps perfectly still when I hold her. Which is what I'm doing right now. A baby in the arms and a computer on the lap in an August evening makes for a sticky sweaty mess. Yes I really did write that and I am well aware of how first worldy it all is, but what ever.
Cinco keeps getting jolted awake because X-Man figured how to climb out of his crib. I suppose it was a long time coming, but now it's just a long time complaining. We've moved it, placed barriers around every side and been screamed at in rage. It's particularly sad because X-Man used to be the best sleeper in the world. He didn't not visit the rave that is Cinco's REM. He conked out and stayed out for twelve hours.