Do not let him fool you. Do not lend this child any money. That angelic little serious face has not napped in three days. THREE DAYS.
And I don't mean oh, he's fighting his naps, or only taken short naps, or irregular naps, I mean NO NAPS. Not even so much as a 15-minute catnap in the car. Yesterday I saw him half-close his eyes in the stroller on the way home from the playground...and then he caught himself and powered through another four solid hours of daylight.
6 am to 8 pm, this child is a ball of non-stop terrifying awakeness.
Is he tired? Exhausted? Collapse-on-the-floor-wailing-because-his-head-is-stuck-under-his-musical-activity-table-again-level sleep-deprived? Oh, fuck yes. All that. He's a complete wreck at this point, possibly able to see through space and time but unable to figure out that hey, I'm tired. I should close my eyes and sleep instead of freaking out everytime I blink.
Molar number four is cutting through. Which I think (hope) (pray) (trade personal soul for) is the root of the problem. The other three fucked with his nights; this one decided to mess with his days. For kicks! To be different! Oh, that upper left molar, marching to the beat of its own drum, all unique and snowflakey and probably way emo.
(It's also entirely possible that his teeth have nothing to do with any of it, and he's just staying awake to stare at me exactly like this all day, like I am some sort of vaguely interesting zoo animal or PBS documentary about energy prices. Hmm. Interesting, Mother. Do go on with your theories. I'll brew some espresso.)