Well we had a good run going there for a while: six days straight of sleeping through with no resettling and two one-hour (sometimes longer) naps during the day. I was dancing my happy dance. I was rejoicing in the return of my rational brain. I was starting to make grand plans of finally acting like a *cough* "housewife" and doing something useful around the house that didn't involve watching Elijah like a hawk.
However, if I've learned anything so far in this parenting journey, it's that all good things must come to an end. The only consistency in child-rearing is that there will be change.
And so it appears that Elijah may be teething again. I can't feel or see anything in the gums, but his incessant drooling, disturbed sleep and sudden mood swings over the last two days have given me a heads up. I wish I'd realised this before his unexplained twenty-minute screaming session this morning had me contemplating setting up some kind of black market baby-selling scheme.
And I was so looking forward to getting some semblance of order in this house.
At least I cleaned the microwave.