Sleeping Beauties

A couple of days ago Olivia slept through the smoke alarm screeching through the house.  I was amazed that after I smacked the silly off the smoke detector's face with a broom handle that I didn't then have to put a screaming baby back together like she was an emotional humpty dumpty.  She merely fluttered her eyelids, turned the other cheek, and kept on snoozing.  Amazing! 

An oldie, but a goodie.  I miss her sleeping burrito-style.

So,

Olivia Lee can sleep through:
1.  the smoke detector
2.  Mama's hyena laughter in her ear
3.  the clatter of dropped cookie sheets in the kitchen

But she cannot sleep through the sound of the bathroom fan being turned on, even though EVERY BABY BOOK EVER WRITTEN claims that bathroom fans are delightful white noise to which all babies blissfully sleep.

Which makes sense because I can sleep through:
1.  nearly the entire performance of A Comedy of Errors at the Royal Shakespeare Company
2.  SLB watching The Birds at full volume on a TV about 12 inches from my sleeping face
3.  my former daily subway ride from 116th to Borough Hall (And I never missed my stop.  Ha!)

But I can't stand the ticking of my watch on my nightstand.

And SLB can sleep through:
1.  every announcement and ticket-taking punch on the commuter train from Philadelphia to New York
2.  an entire seminar of 15 people total with Ronald Dworkin in law school
3.  many, many instances of the baby screaming

But he can't tolerate silence.

This is proof that not only do we deserve to live in a bus station, but that we'd sleep more restfully there.  I guess we'll just have to suffer our secure, middle-class home in wakeful silence.