And apparently I'm supposed to blog about it. NOW! Our readers are waiting! (This is what happens when you marry your college newspaper editor and then agree to start a blog with her.)
I wanted to do two things yesterday.
- Take a nap
- Watch the Royals' game. Potentially at the same time.
But for serious, is it so much to ask to time the sleeping schedule from 3:10 p.m. to 7?
Claire's response? "What is this sleep of which you speak?"
Neither Claire nor I did a lot of sleeping on this day. Ok, neither Claire nor I did any sleeping on this day.
Mr. Mom (Gender roles be damned) spent his day pausing the Royals game (thank you DVR) to attend to -- not a fussy baby, not a crying baby -- a SCREAMING baby.
From 1:00 until about 7:00, Claire did not downshift from SCREAMING to crying or even fussing for more than 20 minutes at a time.
Burp? Check. Walk around for 20 minutes? Check. Change diaper? Check. Feed? Check. Well, sort of, apparently this bottle of formula didn't taste very good. Binky? Um....Claire doesn't really "do" binkies. Change her position/sleeping surface? Check. Change the position of Saturn relative to the Moon? Check.
And then...she stopped crying. And continued to stop crying. The silence was deafening, and it lasted all evening. No explanation. Certainly no apology. She just stopped.
I give up.
Oh, and so do the Royals.