Dear God, I am an angel most days. I encourage my brother "Ugo" and lately have been telling him, "Goodjob!" as much as mom and dad do. I now hold my own sippy cup, can crawl right into the dogs cage to keep them company, and will wiggle my pointer finger right back when someone tells me "Noooooo."
But I'm struggling Lord. I can't seem to sleep through the night and feel compelled to wake the entire block on 23rd Street. I stand and wail and shout and can't help but wake my brother. I now have teeth (#3 and #4 to be exact) coming in and mom and dad try to help me with teething tablets and Oragel and an extra middle of the night bottle, but I insist on making the rest of the Browns miserable. I just can't help myself!
Please give my loving parents and patient brother the strength to tolerate me between the hours of 4 and 6 AM.
-The Dash
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