The toothbrush test

Before naps or bedtime, when Isabelle seems tired (red rimmed eyes, incessant rubbing of eyes, panicky sucking on anything within an inch of her face) but is not ready to sleep (oh how we hates it, precious), I administer the Toothbrush Test to determine her Sleepability Quotient. The procedure involves me brushing my teeth while Bella looks on from the wrap.

(note: a higher number indicates a higher probability of sleep.)

1. Toothbrush barely elicits response. It moves back and forth. yip.ee. Anything in else in the room is infinitely more exciting. (Look at me, I'm in the mirror, I'm famous! Smile for the camera!)

2. Toothbrush is interesting and worth the effort to reach for it. It's colorful and moves back and forth, how delicious. Smacks lips. Above all, it's mommy's and therefore must be cool.

3. Toothbrush is enthralling. Look how it moves back and forth! Cannot. Tear. Eyes. Away. Yawn... Prepare the pillows, this girl's about to crash.

4,000. Toothbrush transports Isabelle to a different dimension. (Often this is seen in the inability to focus, crossed eyes, swaying head.) When it is evident that my actions captivate her in the way that only a psychedelic dancing tooth brush streaking across the galaxy can, then sleep is either imminent or too far gone.