First, an up-date: David's various red patches are getting better. John and I are assiduously applying all his ointments. Behind his ears is no longer crusty. The parts that were flaming red are now just pink. His swollen areas are less swollen. And this is only three days in to a 10-14 day treatment.

On the bad side, he slept terribly last night, waking basically every hour. I finally got three hours in a row by having him sleep on top of me. Of course, that stint was interrupted by Rose's bad dream and then Rose woke for good, which means we all had to get up, at 6:30.

Anyway, David is starting to express preferences, other than "food now" or "just let me sleep." A couple of days ago, Rose and I were outside playing Frisbee (she's quite good), and jump rope (she's starting to get the idea). John was inside with David, but David started squawking. They came out to chat with us and David got quiet. They went inside and David got annoyed again. They came out and quiet.

John and I started to see a pattern. It became even more obvious when I held David and John played with Rose. I stepped inside and David started to fuss. It wasn't about a particular parent; he just wanted to be outside watching his sister play.

Tonight was a bit more grim. I was collapsing on the floor from exhaustion (see the previous night's sleep pattern). Rose agreed to play "bed-time" with me where I got to sleep in her bed while she read me stories and sang me songs—a game I can really get behind. I had been holding David, and John took him downstairs. You could have heard the howling across the lake.

I dragged myself out of bed and took the teary-eyed red faced baby upstairs. I nursed him and he started grinning and giggling. Ok. John took him. I went back to bed. And the howls were rattling the windows.

The unspoken rule in our house is you don't let the other parent cope with that level of freak out on their own. So, I dragged myself out of bed. I give John credit. He was committed to giving me my nap. He had the special noise reduction headphones on; he was about to strap the baby into the frontpack, but when I took him—noise abatement.

I took a completely content baby upstairs. David, Rose, and I all took a bath together. It was just dandy.

I'm so excited David has an opinion, and we could figure out what it was. But it's not good for my sanity or my relationship for him to glom on to me alone. I hope he makes decisions about whether he wants to listen to the Red Sox on the radio or listen to Rose make up a song about her blue haired pony, and lets John and me decide who needs to hold him now.