Teething is occurring. The dribbling is astonishing but the grizzling is something else. The poor little man is in pain and he just doesn't understand it, so he cries and grumps and demands attention at all times. If you're not within a foot of him throughout his waking hours he wails like a banshee. He wants his mummy and daddy, but then gets upset when he realises that their powers to make it all better don't extend beyond cuddles and Calpol. It's pretty heartbreaking. Hope those toothy pegs put in an appearance soon.
I'm also finding it exhausting to the point of tears. We'd planned a sunny weekend in the park, but the grey skies put pay to that and we stayed in, which was a mistake. Sad babies have an ability to make two hours feel like ten and being stuck within the same four walls made it felt like the longest afternoon in living history. James let me nap a while this morning, while I dispatched him him off for some sleep this afternoon. But napping barely touches the sides so I'm off to bed now, where I will probably have dreams in which I worship a squeaky deity called Sophie le giraffe.