Knuckle

Lyla slept through the night again last night. Here's the secret, for anyone taking notes.

Ready for it?

Okay, here it is: Baby NyQuil. I'm kidding! Good grief, we would go to hell. No, the real secret is that we have no clue. It's luck.

We do play a classical lullaby CD and run a small fan in the room, not so that it blows on her, but for white noise. Maybe that's the secret. I can be across the hall in bed doing the most scintillating of crossword puzzles, and that combination of noise puts me right to sleep. Plus, since Lyla discovered the resemblance of her index knuckle to a nipple (say that ten times fast), we don't have to replace the binky as much when it falls out.

Sometimes in the middle of the night I'll stir and hear her whimper and wonder whether it'll become a full-fledged cry, but seconds later the whimpering becomes intense knuckle suckling (again, ten times fast). The girl self-soothes. It's luck.

But on a day like today, which found Lyla fussing for food constantly, probably in honor of being an 11-week-old big girl, I wonder if her sleeping streak will be broken. Time will tell, but no matter what happens, Julie and I both anticipate an insomniac hellion anarchist for our second child.