Sleep, Interrupted

I always thought the age of three would be a safe bet for no longer being woken up in the middle of the night. That was something we dealt with when we had newborns, then when the girls were adjusting to their room and sleeping in big girl beds. Age three is supposed to be a safe distance from interrupted sleep, except for the occasional nightmare or thunderstorm. Apparently, Cadie didn't get the memo.

Because Jeff's been working out of town for the past six months, I'm on my own during the week. This means, nearly every night when Cadie wakes up two or three times, it's up to me to get her back to sleep. I don't know if I would be less annoyed by it if she was waking up because of a bad dream or because she was scared; probably so. Lately, though, she's been waking up for no apparent reason. When she calls for me, she isn't frightened, upset, in a panic. She's just sitting in her bed, sometimes needing me to retrieve her doll or Bebe. It usually doesn't take much to get her back to sleep, either, but I'm up enough times to feel the effects the next day. There's something so un-restful about sleep interrupted. If she weren't so darn cute...

Oh, please, let this be a short phase!