Last night Fraser and I had one of those amazing experiences that for the briefest of moments makes all these not-sleeping, barfing, crying, headbutting months worthwhile. I was getting him ready for bed and instead of attacking his bottle barracuda like and then spitting milk back out at me for the first ten minutes as is his normal MO, he simply settled down into my arms and drank his bottle happily. When he was done he gave me his best sleepy milk-drunk smile and closed his eyes. I put him on my shoulder to carry him into the bedroom and he nuzzled happily into my neck, put one hand on my shoulder and one over my heart, and gave the most completely satisfied pig-like grunt I have ever heard. And that was it, but it was enough. He also slept for 6 hours once I put him down, but that was just icing.