On Thursday night, after 8 hours of fussing, I finally figured out that I had an overtired baby.
Call me a novice mom (true), but I had never before heard of such a dastardly event.
It's like when you don't eat for so long that you totally lose your appetite. Babies do the same thing with sleep, except it culminates in a major meltdown, with the parent somehow responsible for all of the misery.
Now I'm on the lookout for sleepy clues, ready to put a baby to sleep at a moment's notice, boob at the ready. Unfortunately, I'm not too fancy at this yet, so the only sign I recognize is a yawn... which is already pretty far into the game.
Yikes.
But, I'm learning and loving it, unless the meltdown turns into a duet, in which case...
At least we're in it together.
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