Quite punctual, that growth spurt. Unfortunately, it is the only thing polite in it’s characteristics. Gone is my sleeping through the night child, who eats well & smiles. Instead, I woke up this morning (after very little sleep last night) to a grumpy, screaming child. Diaper, bottle, fail to nap, then attempt to swing/bounce/rock/play. Rinse, repeat. For five hours. Sleeping? Be damned. Eat more than 2 oz per bottle? Forget about it. Screaming? It only bows to the hum of the vacuum.

We’re heading into hour number seven, if you’re only counting daylight hours. I am frazzled, dirty, exhausted, & two seconds from laughing from pure insanity.

But my floors are incredibly spotless. I invite you to come over & eat your turkey & dressing off them. & while your over here, maybe you can hold the inconsolable child while I go wash the formula-vomit out of my hair.