"Every day is different"

That's the official motto of Genghis-rearing. Case in point: Monday night, we had crying or eating for all but about two hours between 9:30pm and 4:30am (at which time I gave up and went to work). Last night, between 7:30 and 4:30, we had sleeping, interrupted only by three very calm rounds of eating, diapering, and returning to sleep.

I think the returning to sleep last night was greatly facilitated by a triple play of milk narcosis, snug swaddling, and real squeezing hold until the eyelids got heavy. (Regarding the last, I was slightly concerned that my "sleeper hold" was approaching wrestling quality - see my earlier post which mentioned the non-running-wildness of Owenmania - but all was well.) But, beyond its general truth, that's the beauty of the Genghis-rearing motto: not only does it provide comfort in rough patches, it also keeps you from getting cocky when you think you've got something figured out.