My entire family slept well and without incident under one roof last night for the first time in days.
(Actually, the "without incident" part isn't entirely true, but that was more my drunk-ass self than anything.)
Will is becoming more and more himself with every moment. He's still mellower than usual, but given the insanity of the past week and how awful he must have felt, that's understandable.
He was doing so well that I was able to have a MILF night out with my best real world gal-pals -- dinner followed by a rockin' '80s bash. Good music, good company, great booze. Goodness knows I needed all three.
We're still watching Will like hawks, trying to determine if his behavior is symptomatic of something going awry or just kid angst.
But it's much better doing this from the comfort of my sofa, in my pajamas, then from anywhere else.