…and you sound like Dylan, but this is NOT the Dylan i’ve known for the past 7 months. Little man you are finding your personality. And it has a hint of diva in it. You woke up three times last night and refused to go back down into your crib. I rocked you for an hour until you fell back asleep. You would fall asleep in my arms but the second your little head touched the crib you would flip out. An outsider would think I was laying you in acid. So, I laid you in our bed with us and you calmed down instantly. I feel like you planned that. To really knock your point home – you started snoring. Really? You’ve got to be kidding me. You are also gassy. Sorry for putting it out there to the world. But man! You are a tooting machine. You’ve never been a gassy baby before but now if I put just the slightest amount of pressure on your belly…well, you know. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve checked your diaper thinking i’m going to find the mother of all doody bombs only to find out that you have the tush that cried wolf. Just toots. THEN, we were out running errands. You were fine. Then Sophie fell on the floor and it was like someone told Mariah Carey they ran out of green M&M’s.