I was up most of the night either getting the boy back to sleep or trying to fall back to sleep myself. The poor little guy has a cold (and I suspect I know which child at school passed it on to him), which means he’s congested and all around not pleased to be lying down. Sometime around 2am, I decided he is psychic and knows the exact moment I fall asleep, because that’s when he started crying again. Normally, I would let the cries go for a while to see if he would settle down on his own, but he was running a temp of 103 and I didn’t want to chance anything. I had febrile convulsions, myself, as a baby, so I didn’t want to let his cries go unattended.
So, all told, I’ve had about 3 hours of sleep.
And I’m seriously dragging.