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Will she sleep?

She's tired.

While she may be less than a year old and unable to tell me she's tired, her actions speak for her. The eye rub, the lack of focus, and her desire to cling to me all betray her. She fusses, burying her head into my shoulder when I pick her up. I hold her in the rocking chair, trying to calm her with a gentle rocking motion. She resists, and I realize this will be a battle.

I prepare a bottle, holding her with one arm while mixing the ingredients with the other. She reaches for it greedily and I must remove her small, chubby fingers from the bottle while I finish. Once the bottle is ready, we return to the rocking chair and I cradle her on my lap. She spies the bottle again and both hands reach upwards for her prize. Grasping the bottle tightly, she begins to suck, fast at first and then falling into a regular rhythm. Almost immediately her eyes roll upwards and her eyelids close.

We sit quietly together, rocking back and forth while she eats. As the last drops of milk are pulled from the bottle, her eyes open again in anticipation of the whooshing sound that indicates an empty bottle. She lets out a small cry in protest, and I set the bottle aside and lift her to my shoulder. As I stand up, she drops her head onto my shoulder. I pat her back as we slowly move towards her room.

Once in her room I attempt to lay her down. She howls pitifully, large tears falling from her eyes. I concede to her demands and pick her up again. I stand next to her crib, holding her close to me, her head nuzzled under my chin. We sway back and forth in a slow, sleepy dance, listening to the gentle melody from her lullaby CD. I tilt my head down to inhale the sweet smell from her fuzzy head, smiling as she lets out a heavy sigh.

She gives in to sleep, and her small body is heavy as it relaxes. I slowly lower her into the crib, placing her favorite blanket next to her. Her eyes flutter open momentarily, and then close as she lets out one more sigh. I tiptoe out of the room, secretly congratulating myself on another successful nap. I pull her door shut, turning around to go downstairs again.

And then I see my other daughter at the top of the stairs.

"Hi, mommy!!"

My eyes go wide. "Cordy, shhhh. We need to be quiet," I whisper.

"No, we need to be LOOOOUD!" she yells with a grin, followed by an ear-piercing screech.

"Waaaaa!" is heard from the other side of the closed door. I hang my head in failure.

Foiled again by the preschooler.