The peak of fussiness is nigh. Last night, Milo was awake from 3:30 to 5:30 a.m. Not crying, just awake, and threatening to cry if I put him down. So I didn't. I just held him and rocked him and enjoyed his company.
This morning, Granny came over, and Milo was a little less happy, but not screaming his head off. He did sleep in the afternoon and evening, but right now, he is screaming his head off while Jason walks him around the house singing to him.
Good times.
Still, I can't complain. At this same stage of the game with Lucy, I was was locked in the bathroom sobbing, "We've ruined our lives." This time around, I am calmly blogging, curious which combination of TV theme song, bouncing motion and pacifier position will settle him down. If I hear right, Jason found the right formula: Mary Tyler Moore wins again.
Even at his worst, the kid is all right.