The Wife comes home tonight after leaving town Monday morning, and she's returning to a calm, peaceful household. NJ and I got along famously, adjusting our routines to account for her mother's absence. There are only two real changes: One is that NJ's evening bath/meal/bed routine is a little different because she finishes a bottle a lot faster than she nurses. The other, of course, is that I have to get up early, when NJ does, instead of relying on The Wife to do that and waking me later. A small sacrifice for the sake of the child's welfare, but make no mistake -- a small, happily made sacrifice is still a sacrifice.
The only threat of driving off the metaphorical cliff came Tuesday afternoon, when the kid awoke from her nap very early and threw a hysterical fit. It took about thirty minutes just to get her settled down. I don't know if she had the world's worst nightmare or if, despite there being no obvious visual evidence, teething has finally hit (seven and a half months and no teeth yet!) A little kitchen dancing soothed her, as did Dad Solo's singing. At last, I'm not the only person who appreciates -- or has even heard -- my Van Morrison impression.
Unfortunately for NJ, her mother won't be getting home until after her bedtime tonight. And unfortunately for The Wife, she won't be getting home until after NJ's bedtime tonight. So their reunion will have to take place tomorrow. It would be a lot of fun to watch, because NJ lights up like a Christmas tree when either one of us is gone for a while and then reappears. I'll miss that, though. I'm sleeping in.