When I said that evenings had gotten better around our house?
Pride goeth before a fall.
In fairness, the evenings have been better, but since the day I wrote that post (O! Bitter Irony!), the nights have been worse. I had been lulled into complacency by a spate of screamless, sleep-filled joy. The past couple of nights have been a double-feature of Maddie and Riley uprisings. Yawn. My mornings have been fueled by coffee and crankiness.
The going-to-bed part has been tenuous, too. Last night involved almost 45 minutes of screaming alternating with chit chat alternating with screaming alternating with singing from the Ri-Man before a final burst of sobs pushed him into slumber. It's exhausting for me. I find few things more draining than the combination of listening to my child cry mixed with the uncertainty of how to handle the situation. Go in? Let him cry it out? Gar.
But hey, it's Friday. The sun is out. We have a park date with a friend after work. I have a grown-up date (outing with girlfriends) on the books for Saturday evening. And it's true that slowly, ever so slowly, the scales are tipping in favor of more sleep for all of us and easier times at bedtime. It's just so hard to hit a regression after so much progress. I like things to be linear; this whole "two steps forward, one step back" motion is hard for me.