Lyla woke me up crying half a dozen times last night. In each instance, I found her on her stomach, apparently unsure of how she got there or what to do next. When I flipped her back, she fell asleep instantly.
Well, almost instantly. First I had to locate her binky and shove it in her mouth before her frustration escalated to rage. It was either in the crib somewhere, in her bin of stuffed animals on the floor, or on the floor itself.
I'll admit that when I found the binky on the floor at 3:00 in the morning, I blew on it like an old Nintendo game and called it clean enough.
We need a bucket of binkies by her bed, or maybe something not so alliterative.
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