Adenovirus is pretty much gone. From the baby. Now it's mine, all mine.
Two nights ago, he slept and slept. From 9:30 to 5:30, which is pretty good for him. Last night, not so much. So, not so much for me, either.
Scratch that. It's crap. I don't really have anything to say. I am just waiting for the second wash on the diapers to be done, so I can put them into the drier and go to bed for the twenty minutes we will have before he wakes up whining for no reason. It's a good thing he's such a (mostly) charming baby when he's awake (for the day).
Pete keeps looking for a formula. The one thing we are missing that will make him sleep through the night, every night.
I am looking for the same thing, too; it's just for me.
Thing is, there is no one thing. There's not even a combination of things. We just think we should be able to fix it by making it perfect, but we can't. I could say, well, the night he slept through (the only night since he came back from his vacation with Grandma and Gran), we had the air conditioning on. But, there are so many variables, it's impossible for us to say if there's a key (there isn't). We only have one baby, not many; if we had many (and a grant. And credentials), we could set up some kind of study, but it's hard enough for my workplace to come up with grants, let alone my little family.
The washer is singing. Time to transfer and go to bed.