I did actually get to bed early last night. Or at least, earlier than I've been going to bed, which is to say around 10. I conked out quickly and slept soundly, right up until 4:30, when Penny came in to tell me she'd had a bad dream.
She tried to climb into bed with us, and I steered her back toward her room. I laid down with her, but she did not fall back asleep. She fidgeted and twitched and kept me awake for half an hour, until I gave up and kissed her good night and promised to leave the door open so she could see the night-light in the hall, and went back to bed.
Losing half an hour of sleep in the early morning is actually worse than getting up half an hour earlier than usual. It's also worse than going to bed half an hour late, or even losing half an hour in the middle of the night, because the hour of sleep I got from 5 to 6 wasn't enough to sink me down into the really restful sleep.
Not Penny's fault, of course, and she really did seem agitated and upset last night (unlike sometimes when she claims a bad dream, but is so calm and cool that I suspect she just woke up and wanted company). She's almost as irritated by it as I am, in fact. "The bad dreams didn't get stuck in the triangles," she mumbled last night, referring to the dreamcatcher we'd given her. "They went into the circle!" And this morning, she demanded, "Why am I having so many bad dreams?!"
She'll outgrow them in a few years, at least. Just in time for Alex to start.
(This is the point at which I consider rearranging the bedroom and turning the bed so Matt is closer to the door.)
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