Sasha has been such a delightful and happy baby, and we’ve been very spoiled parents. Unfortunately, that picture is getting a bit more complicated with the combined arrival of two new factors—a) teething; and b) she’s getting smarter: she knows how to ratchet up the crying when she’s doesn’t get boob asap, and she seems to feel indignant when we’re there but we aren’t adequately addressing her problem. We’re also encouraging her now to be more flexible at certain times with boob delivery (middle of the night, middle of a car ride, etc.)

She’s verbalizing her displeasure with deep, moaning cries, gasps, and wails. It’s really quite miserable. I’m at work right now, and I still here her crying in the back of my head. Somewhere in the upper left rear portion, thudding gently against the wall of my skull. I know it’s even worse for Julie. Serenity prayer … Jah give me the strength to … ah cripes. Booze please.