1 a.m.

and I just now got my little one to go to sleep. He has been a screaming banshee tonight. Full fricken tantrums: complete with pulling Momma's hair, throwing his milk across the room, lunging at the ground like his feet got knocked out from under him, screaming at the top of his lungs... 




My neighbors probably think I'm beating the hell out of him from all the noise 
going on up here, but all I could do was sit and watch him do all of this; he didn't want me near him at all.  This had been going on for at least an hour.  Finally he let me scoop him up and rock/sway/bounce him until his head started getting heavy and doing the drunk bob. That's when I knew it was safe to lay him down and quietly escape to another room.  I am still trying to work the cramps out of my legs from all the pacing.  All this while Daddy sleeps peacefully on the couch. Nights like these make me miss my Effexor. Bad. 

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