I love this child to his bones. But I’d be quite indecently grateful if he stopped making the noise that goes with this cross face. At least for today.
Happily, Daddy’s key in the door is always cause for excitement.
Less happily, Daddy is out tonight.
You don’t say, baby monitor. YOU DON’T SAY.
Oh, and the sleep training: for the past two nights, one of us has had a great night’s sleep, and one of us has had no sleep at all, which may possibly be due to the baby-monitor-to-ear bruise one of us is sporting. He didn’t seem bothered at all by the change of scene, and remembered to do his own breathing and everything. Tonight, I tried to put him to bed at a more baby-appropriate time and terrible things resulted. I picked him up after ten minutes, when he was crying so hard he couldn’t breathe (sorry, dear neighbours), and it turned out he had wind. Um. I’ll collect my bad mother award and go and stand over here, shall I?