Tonight was one of those bedtimes that when they're over, you go and pour yourself a stiff drink. I'm 7/8ths through the drink, and just starting to feel OK. (Actually, to be honest, I'm feeling a bit more than OK since it was a Steve sized drink....my husband pours a good drink!)
At 6:15, Corben could hardly keep his eyes open, so I decided to try and put him down. He nursed. And nursed. And nursed. Until 7:15.
Corben is a swift and efficient nurser. He eats, (one boob only please,) he burps, he is done. Bingo bango boom.
Tonight he ate, and ate, and ate, for an hour, until 7:15, when he suddenly realized that he had eaten WAAAY too much.
So he cried.
And cried. And wailed. And hollered. And cried some more. Until 7:45 when I finally loaded him up with gripe water. (Dear Gripe Water - LOVE! YOU!)
And then we rocked. And rocked. And rocked. Until finally at 8:15, TWO hours after I had started this whole business, he finally fell asleep.
And then there's the other kid.
Griffin had a day. Or "a day." He got in trouble at school. How much trouble can you really get in at preschool, you ask? Well, as much as you can get in, he got in it.
When I disemmenate the teacher's kind but veiled words, I come up with this: He was a Class A Jerk today at school.
Captain Jerktastic carried on at home.
Thank gawd for my Mom, who's been here for a few days, who took a hold of the Griffin reins tonight.
Sadly, she wasn't successful. Daddy came home just as she was done reading stories, and Griffin needed a snuggle from him.
After I had finished the Corbenathon, he needed a snuggle from me.
After that, his fish were bugging him. (??)
He hung out on the landing.
He waited for someone else to take pity on him and come and snuggle some more.
Sadly, we were all out of pitty down here.
As of right now, 9:45, the status is this:
Corben is asleep, swaddled within an inch of his life. (Metaphorically speaking, of course.)
Griffin is asleep, here:
(That'd be the landing.)
No one is in a hurry to move him.
Sadly, I am out of gin.