It’s 8:03 on my only day off work between now and mid-January.
BIT is on antibiotics for a double ear infection, which means she is cranky and has the runs and wants to be picked up every two seconds. And who knew that an ear infection in infants can lead to spontaneous vomiting? So she’s home with me today.
LB is 2.999 years old, which means that she is alternatively cooperative and defiant, adorable and infuriating and quite capable of getting on my last nerve at the drop of a hat.
I have one pair of “real” pants that don’t bisect (and thus double) my muffin top, making getting dressed a treat. My breakfast of champions consisting of 3 cups of coffee, 2 buckeyes, and a bowl of buttered rice isn’t helping the situation.
I managed to numb half my mouth in the process of putting benzocaine drops in BIT’s ears.
My car needs an oil change. Our house needs cleaning. The laundry needs folding, the dishes need washing, the bills need paying.
I’ve already lost my schmidt and yelled at the Jenny jump-up of all things, which made LB cry because it scared her.
Is it too early for a beer?