We all slept through the night last night. At least, I'm pretty sure. See, he was in the crib in the nursery for the first night ever, and when I woke up at quarter to seven this morning, the baby monitor was off. Which leads me to believe
that either the traffic noise was too loud, so in my sleep I turned it off, or he started to cry, so in my sleep I turned it off. But his face wasn't tear-streaked and his left eye wasn't goopy (which it invariably is after a cry session), so I THINK
he actually slept through the night. That's my story, anyway, and I'm stickin' to it.

Monstro and I met in Springfield last night and dined at Max's Tavern in the Basketball Hall of Fame. I brought Alexander, nursed him before Monstro arrived, and then we had him in his carseat on the booth banquette next to me. Baby didn't make so much as a PEEP the whole time. Everyone commented on what an angel he was being. Then, of course, he screamed all the way home, meaning I didn't get the Friendly's sundae I was craving, but no matter. To have a lovely (LOVELY — Max's is so beautiful, and the food is so carniverously good) evening out with my husband and son was a joy. The couple in the booth across from us had spent the day watching their granddaughter be born. They asked how old Alexander was and I said, “two months.” They told me that their new granddaughter was “four hours old by now.” I asked if their daughter had had an easy time of it and they said, “after seven and a half years of trying…” and trailed off. Guess after you want something for that long the pain doesn't matter.

All in all, a wonderful evening. AND, once Alexander and I got up, we went to the futon, nursed, and then slept for another two and a half hours.

Ahhhhhhhhhhh.