Last night Fraser slept for six whole hours in a row! I of course, was still awake every two hours to check to see if he was still breathing, but I am secretly harboring high hopes that this means the sleep strike has finally ended! Yes, apparently I have somehow unwittingly met the list of demands he has been patiently laying out every two hours or so for the past seven nights. To celebrate I snapped the above picture of him in his crib at 6:00 this morning (hence the sleepy eyes and chicken hair) after he decided that he was going to get up for the day. Not, of course, that he slept in the crib for those six hours, or the next two hours he slept, but I'm willing to take what I can get.

I am, however, determined to be somewhat reserved in my enthusiasm concerning the possible peaceful resolution of the sleep strike lest the benevolent dictator decide open displays of relief among his subjects are inappropriate and creates some new plan of sleep deprivation to keep the peasants in line. Therefore I have decided to act just as sleep deprived as ever in front of Fraser, and thereby fool him with my superior acting skills and fox-like cunning into believing he still holds all the cards in this game of will power and wits. Of course, the fact that I even just wrote that sentence proves beyond a doubt that (1) I am still hopelessly sleep deprived (2) Fraser is in no danger of losing his position of power and (3) I really need to get out of the house.