The overwhelming majority of Eli's day is spent eating, sleeping or staving off tears. He would cry almost perpetually if we didn't hold, soothe, bounce, drive or stroller him. After he eats, he usually plays for a few minutes before descending into despondency. Then we soothe him into a version of tranquility or sleep.
I make this sound miserable, but it's closer to bliss. It is a stable, memorable and precious time. Elias is extremely cute. His smile could melt the ice off his namesake. He gets more interactive every day. He listens to our words and gurgles responses. His gaze is robust, wondering and discerning. He's really endearing when he's not crying.
The days are better and the nights are delightful. Eli consistently sleeps between 8 and 6. Melissa and I get to be adults for an hour before she goes to bed. Eli wakes up around 1 AM for a bottle feed, usually resuming sleep without a hiccup. I go to bed at that point and Melissa takes the next feeding, which usually comes before we'd like, around 4 AM.
Eli's colic rages throughout the day, but our experience has been transformed into wry, mundane acceptance. The difference, as they say, is night and day.