Sometimes, like almost every night, I ask myself, Why does Jane have to wake up & cry for an hour and a half? I’ve pretty much given up on actually figuring out why she does this, since every theory I can fathom gets debunked, so this question really means: Why am I so unlucky to have to put up with this?
But if I was feeling less self-pity (which is rare), I might ask myself, Why do I have such a beautiful, sweet baby who is pleasant 22.5 hours of the day? Why does she love to sing and dance, already at 8 months? Why does she laugh when I kiss her tummy or play peek-a-boo? Why does she have an adorable little dimple when she chews or purses her lips? Why does she think Simon is so hilarious? Why does she smile every time she sees her daddy? Why does she smile & rest her head on me every time she sees someone new? Why does she have such tiny hands and feet? Why does entertain herself so easily? Why is she so flexible when we’re out and about? Why do Cheerios make her so cheery?
Why is she so Jane?
‘Cause she is. And this is why she has to wake up and cry, I guess. Although I’d like her to sleep through the night, I wouldn’t want any other baby. I’m sure I’d feel the same way about any baby we could have had, but we had Jane, and I’m so glad we did.