Tonight we had dinner at my in-laws'. We got a late start, and by the time we left it was way past Milo's bedtime. Andrew sat in the backseat for the drive home to attempt to keep Milo awake. (In our experience, if he falls asleep in the car, he has a harder time falling asleep in his bed.)
Andrew did everything. He sang about five green and speckled frogs. He tickled. He poked and made faces. But the heavy eyelids were winning, and every blink seemed like it would be the last before sleep set in. Just a half mile or so from home, we lowered the windows all the way and turned up the radio.
And as we turned on to our street, the wind blowing in my hair, "Stayin' Alive" playing loud and proud for all the neighbors to hear in an attempt to keep my baby awake for a few more minutes, I thought to myself, "This is what making a memory feels like."
Saturday, September 4
Late
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1 comment:
It's a real thing! It's called homeostatic sleep pressure.
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