We have no explanation. He just woke up on the wrong side of the crib and decided that he was not going to be happy (nearly) all day.
It was a day filled with theatrical, extended tantrums. It was a day where we should have known better than to brave Sam's in the middle of the afternoon--a plan that ultimately ended with me removing our sobbing, struggling child from the store while onlookers shot me "yikes" looks and whispered, "bless his heart..." Yeah. I was not thinking about blessing his heart... I tried not to establish eye contact with anyone and got out as quickly as possible.
Everything was a challenge--nap time, play time, jammies. A bit of unsolicited advice: don't try to strategize with your spouse about how to handle your child's fit during a fit. Just pick a direction, get through it and strategize afterward.
At the end of the day, once he had FINALLY fallen asleep, instead of shaking the day off and getting on with life, I decided to lean into the fatigue and make it an early night. I took a long, hot shower and just sort of stood there, creating a 20 degree angle between my forehead and the wall as I let my arms hang. I listened to some Coldplay. I thought about how thankful I was that Jon is such a patient guy. He's not easily flapped, although he was exhausted from the day too.
Jon and I closed the day by watching about half an hour of Lost in Translation. It's one of our favorite movies and it seemed to fit the day. We apologized for snapping at each other and joked about the benefits of having just one child, a-la, 'What if they outnumbered us?'
It was a long day.
