My Daughters, The Girls Who Party All Night

At 1:30 in the morning,  Harper began to cry.  She was calling for Sara.  Sara, however, was dealing with this:

 

As a result, I got out of bed (who likes sleeping anyway), grabbed a pacifier and went into Harper's room.  I found this:

Well, not that exactly because it was much darker and she was wearing something else, but you get the idea.  I popped the pacifier into her mouth and went to make my escape.  She lifted her head and saw me trying to make my exit.  She began to cry.

I reached in to the crib and rubbed her back, stroked her hair, and she put her head back down.  Every time I stopped, she would sit up again.

I put a stuffed animal on the floor and lay down, stretching my arm into the crib to play with her hair.  I have no idea how much time had passed by the time I was able to army-crawl out the door and back into bed, but it didn't matter.

No matter how bad today is, I will be able to lift myself back up by remembering how I was able to soothe my daughter in the middle of the night.


Does someone want to pay me to be a stay-at-home dad?