Laundry Day

Do you know what happens hours after hitting Publish on a post describing how easy-going and awesome your baby is and ermahgerd!!! this mom thing is so easy!? All hell breaks loose, that's what happens. The baby starts doing this thing where he wakes up whining and rolling around in his crib for hours on end (three nights in a row), you develop a horrible medieval-like boobie infection that you can't sleep off because your baby is whining and rolling around in his crib for hours on end, and you are hit with a new work project with a sliiiightly terrifying deadline. 

Maybe Will is just trying to protect me because sleeping is officially a hazardous activity. I woke up in the middle of the night three nights ago having slept on my boob the wrong way for, I don't know, a couple of hours, and ended up with an illness that took over my whole body. The irony! Sleep is supposed to be objectively good!

But you know what? The clouds breaketh and a wee little ray of sunshine wanders its way upon you in the form of 800mg Ibuprofen horse pills, a week's worth of antibiotics, and a wonderful husband who, no - he won't do the laundry, but yes - will McGyver said baby into some semi-appropriate sleepwear so you can get some extra rest. 

Football First; Nap Later; Laundry Never!!!! Works for me. (And how is that for prop styling, Kate?) 

I feel so much better today. Thank you, modern medicine. Don't get me wrong. If I ever go toe to toe with mastitis again (please no, please no, please no), I may try to avoid antibiotics with your Hermione-esque magical concoction of essential oils, sliced potatoes stuffed in my bra, and grapefruit seed extract, but for now, umm, pass the horse pills please. (The Internet tells you to do the craziest things.) I didn't think myself prone to this type of thing - going six months of relatively problem-free breastfeeding - but I know that when you get it once, you are more likely to get it again. Hence, I should probably fortify myself with a stash of natural remedies in the event of a repeat performance. (But really, potatoes?) 

Enough about my boobs, right? Right. Let's just draw your attention to this photo I took the other day for a little game we like to call Caption This! 

What is going on here? Daisy seems pretty upset and Will is clearly concerned about her well-being. What a sensitive soul. Or, someone just farted. 

Probably the latter. 

Definitely the latter. 

In fact, I could probably caption all photos of Will and/or the dogs with the caption, "Someone Just Farted."

My life.