Sleepy baby.

A typical weekday morning for Anya starts at around 9am. She will play in her cot until I fetch her for her breakfast at 930am. After breakfast, it will be playtime and some cuddling time with Mommy until 1130am whereby she will have her bath and then go down for her first nap.

This morning was one of those mornings that deviated from her routine. She woke up at 7am and refused to go back to sleep. By 930am, she has had her breakfast, and was playing in her play-barn. When 11am came, she was already rubbing her eyes and whining like a cat.

I decided to bring forward her bath. At the changing table where she was getting dressed, I noticed that her nails needed trimming. I whipped out her nail scissors and got down to work. I was moving onto her other hand when I became aware of her rhythmic breathing.

Yep, she conked. Half-naked on the changing table.

Double-checked to ensure that she was sound asleep, I tiptoed out to fetch my phone to take a snapshot before continuing the nail-trimming business. The rest of the works of getting her dressed, giving her a drink and putting her down in her playpen (her daybed) was all done with her pretty much in slumbers.
 
On the contrary, trimming The Furkid's nails can be a nerve-wrecking and traumatizing experience for both her and us. As what The Husband replied when I mms-ed him Anya's snapshot, "How I (we) wish the same thing happens when The Furkid gets her nails trimmed."