Rhiannon and Tristan; Their apartment; Late Friday night/Early Saturday morning
Rhiannon realized in the early morning hours while she was at the hands of a little ten pound red-faced tyrant that she had severely undervalued sleep in her life before. She'd changed Sophie's diaper, she'd attempted to feed her, and she'd spent the better part of the last hour walking her around and around in circles and singing "Hey Jude" until she felt like she was going to lose her voice while the baby continued to bounce between sobbing and rubbing her face tiredly against Rhiannon's shoulder as she fought the urge to just go to sleep.
She swore to whatever higher power was listening that she'd make sure to get her full eight hours of sleep every night for the rest of her life if said higher power could just make her daughter sleep too.
"Come on, Sophie," Rhiannon whispered against her ear, pressing a kiss to her temple. "Momma is so tired, baby."
The way Sophie's screams increased in volume at the words let her know that her daughter didn't particularly care. It was then that she heard the bedroom door open and she turned to see Tristan home from work. "Oh thank God."