Today was the worst day of Harper's life. She may not have realized it herself, but Jeff and I sure did. You see, Harper is usually the most well-behaved, easy-going, and pleasantly sweet cherub there ever could be. That run ended today. Harper was a pill. She was cranky, cantankerous, sleep-deprived, and generally unpleasant. I may or may not have referred to her as a terrorist. Today was the first day of her life that left me feeling unimpressed. There were two brief moments that made my heart happy...once when HP shot me the day's only grin complete with dimples, and again when she let out the most gentle yawn before refusing to nap.
I tried every trick in the book to entertain her, but none lasted more than ten minutes. Of course, she was perfectly well-behaved during the two hours she spent at Nana's house this afternoon. However, the terrorist antics were back in play as soon as we returned home.
Silly sounds usually distract Harper from crying or fussing. I have been known to caw like a bird, moo, bark, neigh, and meow at home and in public. It is pure magic. Harper cries, I moo, and Harper laughs, or at the very least, smiles instead of crying. The only problem is my own abbreviated attention span. I can only bark for so long before I get bored or Wrigley goes nuts in an attempt to decipher my message.
Jeff watched Harper tonight while I went to see "Cabaret" with Lara. I felt bad leaving him at home with a cranky baby, but I figured he would come out on top if it came down to a fight with her. When I left the house at 6:30, Jeff was trying to convince Harper to take a nap with him. Normally, I would not be thrilled with her napping so late in the day (bedtime at 8), but those baby blues looked super sleepy! Anyhoo, I returned home around four hours later, and Harper was exactly where I left her. She fell asleep precisely on the middle of our bed at 6:30pm, and that is precisely where she is sleeping at this very moment. Neither of us is brave enough to move her! Looks like Jeff and I will be sleeping on the trundle daybed in the office. My fingers are crossed that Harper sleeps through the night and is back to her old self again tomorrow.
In Harper's defense, her worst day wouldn't be regarded all that badly by any other. She wasn't awful, she wasn't terrible, and she wasn't a terrorist. She was definitely fussy, and we are spoiled enough by her regular sweetness to balk if we receive anything else from her. Perhaps she is/was teething, or maybe she was worn out from our walk along the river yesterday afternoon.
Tomorrow is another day, and may it be a good one for ol' Punkie Peel.