Not a good day.
NJ went in for her four-month doctor's appointment, which was great until it came time for the shots. One in each chubby little thigh. This upset her greatly, of course, and the rest of the day was pretty much one big crank-fest. No afternoon nap. This pushed bathtime and post-bathtime feeding up by more than an hour. NJ wasn't ready to go to bed an hour early, so when that time came she cried and screamed blue murder for forty minutes while me, The Wife and her parents tried to eat dinner two rooms away without freaking out. Finally, probably thanks to her crying fit exhaustion, NJ fell asleep. I checked on her and the look on her face wasn't the usual sleeping-angel stuff. Hopefully tomorrow will be better. We had a similar day on her two-month doctor's visit and the next day, it was as though her mind had been wiped clean.
Not a good day for The Wife, either. She goes back to work tomorrow (rehearsal for Dad Solo is over: It's showtime), and she's very bummed about leaving NJ. She'll take her parents to the airport in the morning, then drive to her office, and then she'll probably call me to see what's going on.
Not a good day for me, although I had the best of the three. I've been a little on edge. I'm a little nervous about my official debut tomorrow. NJ's crying jag this evening put all sorts of ugly notions in my head. Like, that's what it'll be like for nine straight hours tomorrow. Gulp.