Holy shit, y'all.
Micah started crawling this past weekend. Yeah, milestone, yay, blahdeblahdeblah. It would be great if the little asshole hadn't also figured out how to sit up all by himself, and thus keep himself awake INDEFINITELY.
He has not slept a wink at daycare in TWO DAYS. And for the last two nights, instead of falling sound asleep with no fuss at around 7:00 or 7:30, he has spent his time screaming. I mean, SCREAMING, like he cries so hard he gags himself. And it's not that he's scared or sad, no, he's ANGRY. It doesn't matter if one of us is holding him or if he's in his crib by himself. It's the same either way. And he can do it for HOURS. LITERALLY. I AM NOT EXAGGERATING.
It's going to result in the death of one of us. And I'm the one legally old enough to rent a woodchipper.
Right now, I have the monitor off, I'm sitting in the office on the exact opposite end of the house, and I can hear him clear as day. I'm generally opposed the whole cry-it-out thing, but he's been screaming nonstop since about 7:15. One hour later, I am slap out of ideas that don't involve duct tape.
And hey! Todd just left for the weekend. Oh, but my mother-in-law is coming tomorrow to look at houses, so she'll be staying with me and Micah in our cat-hair coated, baby-toy-littered, debris-scattered house. I found that out Monday!
Also, today I received some letters from two weasels hired by someone near one of my jobsites. Apparently, it'd be ever so much better if everyone got a trip to Disneyland and the site and surrounding homes were left contaminated until Jeebus comes and beams us all up. Or I guess that's what they think, assuming they do any of that at all (and I'm not convinced they do).
Oh, and I haven't gotten anything done to get ready for tomorrow. And it's almost 8:30. Late night, comin' right up.
So yeah. There's MY week.
(Hey, and the baby's STILL SCREAMING.)
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