Mondays are always a little hard. We are always a little hung over from the busyness of the weekend, and usually spend Mondays (at least Monday mornings) at home. This morning also included several tantrums. He started screaming at 10:00; after that, he would settle down just long enough to be set off by something new. At 11:30 I finally intervened, because he was about to make himself sick from crying. I handed him his blanket and paci, and sat down in the hallway beside him. "West Wing?" He asked. "Ok," I said. He sat on the couch and watched the theme song, then said, "Night-night?" It was an hour and a half before nap, but after the morning we'd had, I figured he was probably on to something. "Ok," I said. He's been asleep ever since.
Before he launched into an epic tantrum, though, he did this: