After breakfast, I went downstairs with Mom and Dad rather than taking my morning nap in my crib. Aunt Claire was already up and I napped in my swing and my Moses basket until it was time for my snack.
I seem to be breaking my parents’ iron grip on my feeding schedule, as they’re now allowing me a full thirty minutes of flexibility on either side of two hours from my previous meal. As Dr. Freeman said in my last checkup my parents should “let Margaret decide when she wants to eat.” Thanks, doc; I love it.
It was a pretty boring day, actually. My swing ran out of batteries. I met Aunt Claire’s friend, Charlie. Dad’s parents stopped by for a bit. Uncle D took off for Vegas. I ate, slept, and pooped.
And then I just decided that I’d had enough. Of what? I don’t know. Just of this boring routine that we’ve settled into here. So, after dinner I got really fussy with Mom & Dad. I gave them a hint of this evening-fuss strategy last night, but tonight I decided to go for a “surge strategy” and really cried as much as I could. Their counter-insurgency swaddle-strategy was pretty effective, though.
After waking up from a nap around 11:45, I decided to scream as loud as possible until I got my midnight snack. After that, though, I was on my best behavior. Dad got me to fall asleep in less than five minutes and then I slept until my 4:00 snack. Another 5 minutes of rocking got me to sleep soundly until 8:30
margaretyagan 
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