Aftermath

Lest reports of Eliot's emotional independence get too exaggerated, tonight she had one of the worst bedtimes of her life-- at least, since the last time we were both away. Normally she is very good about bed, but tonight screamed and screamed until I sat holding her on my chest and sang her old bedtime song (Simon and Garfunkel's The Boxer, which was our one and only secret weapon for her first few months). She woke up whimpering at midnight last night and came into bed with me, where she stayed til morning-- again an unusual occurrence, strongly correlated with absences.