Today, my mood peaked at self-mocking and bottomed out at wrecked. I spent quite a bit of time in pissy, irritable, exhausted, and losing it. When I start swearing and throw the plastic dishes across the room, you know I'm pretty far gone.

Our first ride on the sleep train really wasn't that bad:

7:30 nursed to sleep (After five nights of insisting on walking around the block, he suddenly goes down smooth.)

9:30 wake up screaming. We go in at regular intervals to sing and pat. I can handle it best when he rolls away from me and clutches his lion. I'm not so good with his angry accusing eyes.

10:30 He falls asleep to my singing.

2:30 Wakes up. We nurse. He jiggles a little as I transfer him. Enough to make me feel I didn't nurse him totally to sleep (the big no-no), but not so much that we have to handle screaming.

5:00 Wakes screaming. This round only takes about half an hour.

6:30 Wakes to nurse, and I don't bother trying to get him back to sleep.

That all adds up to only an hour and half screaming and forty minutes sitting in the chair nursing. But, it doesn't take into account the self-doubt, the restless sleep, the bad dreams. Even though we got a lot of time off, it's been a hard day. I can't tell if David is particularly out of sorts or it's just me looking for proof that I have irreparably harmed my child. In either case, he hasn't been a ton of fun to be around. Rose either. And definitely not me or John.

As someone who has trouble believing in change, it's good to note that he just woke up screaming and was back down in under 10 minutes.