Sleep Like a Baby

There is a disconnect between the phrase “sleep like a baby” and our actual baby. Unless the original meaning is that babies sleep lightly; fitfully; sporadically. Although I shouldn’t complain, because last night Evi slept for four hours straight! This may be the longest period of consecutive sleep I have gotten in months, although I cannot accurately calculate this, as sleep deprivation makes my already questionable math skills even shakier. And I should mention that in order for me to have gotten this much (!) sleep I had to actually go to bed when Evi did: at 8:15pm. I know, I know! I am an adult! I should have stayed up to get things done, to conquer the growing tower of unfilled boxes and unpacked belongings, to organize like only I can, to eat dinner. None of this was as appealing to me as sleep, though, and so I slept the sweet sleep of exhaustion and I have no shame for the fact that most 80 year olds probably went to bed later than I did.
And what is the deal with this baby, anyway? Why must the conditions be perfect and the stars align in order for her to sleep? She can sleep through a siren on the street but if I brush my teeth her eyes pop open like I crashed cymbals. She is hyper-mobile at all times, going so far as to flip into the air and onto her back, panting like a trained dog when I come in with a bottle. But when she wants to turn onto her belly in order to sleep, she can’t make it over and wails like a banshee unless I give her an assist, pat her back and “shush-shush” like a wild woman. I would write more but I am so tired. So, so tired.