I'm writing this really quick because Joel is waking up, and despite my best efforts, he is up for good. He only slept an hour or so, and this development is completely unacceptable. The whole point of only one nap a day is that it's a long motherfucking nap.
And, of course, Owen is asleep, and will be asleep for several hours, leaving me with an afternoon of a tired-ass baby doing his patented "Look, lady, I've got needs. Go into the kitchen and make me a sandwich, toots." routine.
Babies. There's just no reasoning with them about my needs---like the need to shower, read, sleep, throw a load of laundry into the dryer, take an uninterrupted poop. Those needs.
No, instead the witching hour is starting around 2 today, and will continue until Paul gets home.
I hope that we won't all be crying when he walks in the door, but my magic 8-ball says, "Prognosis Excellent."
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