A miracle happened last night. I put E down wide awake at 7:00 and then prepared myself for sleep training. I'd already eaten and showered, so that I wouldn't have to worry about doing that stuff during the intervals of hysterical crying. TJ had fed *and* bathed him, which I appreciated. So anyway, I put him down wide awake and we heard him playing. Then he did some crying around 7:30. I started to time the crying, but he kept starting and then stopping. Then we heard him quietly playing. Joel arrived at 7:30 and TJ left. (TJ was so excited about his big night out seeing The Hold Steady. He commented that Stubb's is fine for live music, but he misses going to clubs and seeing real rock shows. He was cracking me up.) E continued to make peaceful little noises. Then there was lots of quiet followed by a little playing and the sound of his aquarium toy (which he can turn on by himself). At some point I realized he had been quiet for a long time. By 8:30 I was positive he'd fallen asleep. Without a sound. My mind. Was blown.
He didn't wake up once until 3:00. Wow. I nursed him (maybe the last night, I don't know). He woke up again a bit later, but I didn't go to him, and he fell back asleep on his own without crying very much.
Surely he didn't learn how to fall asleep this fast? After one night of misery? Could he have? Time will tell, and it doesn't really matter. What matters is that this is proof that it's possible. And the peace of it--that's what felt so different. No struggle. Even if it was just a fluke, it's a major fluke. And it was a nice break. I had a wonderful evening by myself in a quiet house, and I finally feel caught up in general. In better spirits.
I woke up at 1:30 when TJ got home. He was in rare form--super chatty, off the wall goofy, and seemingly drunk. The show, he said, was fantastic. It kicked his ass. He told me all about it, and he covered a bunch of other subjects as well. He talked about what a "fat man" he is (he's really not), about how much he loves Eamon and can't wait to go to rock shows with him, about how hot our room is, and of course we ended up on the subject of stinky butts and poo (a variation on a conversation we have about twenty times a day; okay, "conversation" is stretching it). He also asked me what I would do if we were in a lifeboat and I had to throw either him or Eamon overboard. (What??) I said I would save the life of my child, of course. This was after he'd told me that Eamon is his favorite person in the whole world and I pretended to be hurt. In the end, I was trying to get him to stop talking and go to sleep, and he kept sneaking his hand over and pinching my face gently and saying, "Butthole."
p.s. By the way, I reserve the right to delete the last paragraph if it strikes me as too personal later. Or if TJ reads it and freaks out that I posted about it. But God, he was funny.