I was all set, this evening, to get this blog back to its vrai raison d'etre (French for "topic which is crushingly dull to everyone but the writer"), elite cross-country skiing, but damn if those girls of ours didn't scotch that plan. Shannon, cheating (as is her wont) by writing while I was putting the girls to bed, already wrote about the night's big experiment: putting Julia and Genevieve to bed in the same room. (No, not the garage, you horrible person.)
As I write this, they're both more or less asleep. Vivi is occasionally groaning her dissatisfaction, but Julia's quiet except for a few coughs. On the other hand, the spouse without a doctorate in psychology had to conduct some therapy with his partner, who was not feeling so great about the transition.
I think it's going about as well as we could expect, given that Vivi has slept in the porta-crib in the guest room for (literally) as long as she can remember, and suddenly she's in a the crib, perched tantalizingly near some inaccessible toys and able to see her sister six feet away. If she could, she'd certainly say, "WTF?" But the little cutie can't, and so now she's just struggling through the night. I predict tired, cranky, but ever-so-slightly more grown-up girls tomorrow.
UPDATE: I just went up with Shannon to check on the sleepers, and discovered Vivi sitting up in her crib, clutching her silky and her bear but stone-cold asleep. Have I ever seen anything sadder? I don't think so. She woke up when I tried to lay her down, of course, so I talked with her for a few minutes and finally succeeded, I think, in getting her to lie down. We'll see how that goes.