Oh my goodness. I feel like I've been through a battle of some sort. It is SO nice to be at my peaceful office this morning. Words cannot describe the joy.
Caring for a teething baby could be used as a implement of torture. I think it's even worse when the baby in question has been an incredibly easy baby for 7 months, and the parents have been lulled into a false sense of security. Yesterday, none of the tricks worked, not the usual things that make Ethan happy, and not any of the teething pain remedies I read about online. And it was raining yesterday and we had no car at home to drive anywhere.
Daniel left at 6 AM yesterday and got back at 8 PM. Smart man. Ethan and I rode out the teething storm until around 6 PM, when I finally bundled him into his stroller and walked down to QFC. Where I slowly walked up and down every aisle. Store workers kept asking if I needed help finding anything. I think I looked scary. At one point I saw a pregnant woman and had to restrain myself from saying "I'm so sorry. Your life is over." I didn't say it, which is good, because it's not true. But that's how I was feeling yesterday.
Thankfully Ethan was worn out from his day of crying, so he went down relatively easy. 2 hours late, but still, he didn't put up a fight. And he slept until 5 this morning, which was nice.
Thank goodness it's Friday, that's all I have to say.