Strange Bedfellows

Beatrice, you have a memory like an elephant. I recall being dumbfounded when I realized you were actually remembering things. It was amazing to watch the little wheels in your tiny little brain churning as you told story after story about something that happened in the past. Like how you still refer to one of your blankets as Auntie's, recalling the time 1 month ago when you laid under it while she read to you. And how you refer to your Dora episodes in such detail, naming all of the characters and plot lines. See below for the story of the B(w)itch and the Prince(ss). For some reason you can't get the w right and you keep calling the little boy prince a princess.

You memory came back to bite mama in the buns this week. Over this past weekend, you were having trouble settling down for your afternoon nap so after about an hour of fussing, I pulled you into bed with me and we napped for over an hour. Every night since then you've woken up at midnight calling out to me to come get you. I've gone into your crib to find you standing up, holding your dolls and blanket waiting for me to pick you up and take you to my bed. You are not happy when I leave your room without you in tow. It's been a rough couple of nights.

My precious little girl, as much as I would like to sleep with you like this every night, it can't be. We each need our own space.