Maggie is teething. Now, although Maggie is, and always has been, an exceptionally easy baby, I still don’t enjoy the constant whining and moaning that cutting teeth seems to bring about, even if it is on a lesser scale than most other babies. I feel badly that she is uncomfortable, but nothing I’m doing seems to be helping a whole lot. It is only really bad at night when she is tired.. One would think that since she is tired she would just drop off to sleep and put herself out of her misery, but Maggie has not yet learned that sleep is the antidote to tired.

Since no amount of cajoling and rocking and swaying and offering of the boob and sacrificing goats to the moon goddess is helping her to calm the heck down and sleep, I did a mean, thoughtless thing tonight. It’s something I’ve been thinking about for several nights now as I’ve grown more and more weary listening to the wailing while not having my presence make any noticeable difference. After an hour of trying to get her to stop yelling and fall asleep, I put her in her pillowy soft bed, tucked her in with her kitty cat quilt from Gramma, and left her alone to cry it out.

Twelve minutes later there was silence. It is now quiet here, people. QUIET. For the first night in over a week both children were asleep before midnight. Jonas dropped like a fly at eight and Maggie is out too. If I had any energy left I’d jump up and down or go do something fun, but I’m just going to wrap this post up and go to bed myself, to enjoy the extra three hours of sleep this is buying me.