Dust is the only thing getting sleep these days in my house. I noted tonight a cobweb tendril trailing from ceiling to a framed cross stitch hanging in the nursery: “Quiet down cobwebs, dust go to sleep. I’m rocking my baby, and babies don’t keep.” I’ve memorized this saying since it hung in my bedroom as a child, and it’s taken on new meaning the past sixteen months as I’ve rocked my own baby and ignored the cobwebs threatening to wrap up my house. Tonight is our first night of sleep training, courtesy of the book Good Night, Sleep Tight by Kim West. Tomorrow, my assault on the slumbering dust begins.
Author: <span>Beth Hendrickson</span>
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