Today did not begin well. Although technically, I don't think yesterday ever ended since I was up almost constantly last night, and when I finally thought he was asleep, 30 seconds later the Dude came out of his room and announced it was morning. And 6:17am kind of is, I guess.
But at least Thing 3 was asleep! Nope. 5 minutes later Down By The Riverside was blasted from the piano downstairs by WonderGirl and her cousin dancing. Cue angry baby. Who then deposited the entire contents of his stomach on my torso.
I decided to try to be positive. Except just now T3 peed all over my legs. So... that ship may have sailed.
Ahhhh. Thanks for the vent. I'll be okay. Maybe tomorrow. As long as I can get T3 to burp or fart. Apparently my happiness or at least my well-relatedness depends on whether he'll do one of those things.
PS. It was also very annoying all night to have Mumford and Sons' Awake My Soul in my head so I couldn't sleep in between baby times. Ugh. Dumb irony.