It's been one of those days. My newly mobile child is into everything and anything he shouldn't be. His favorite toy is my $250.00 set of blinds. He thoroughly enjoys bending them as I'm firmly saying, "No, no, no" until I'm blue in the face.
I feel like I'm going to wear a hole in the carpet. I walk continuously from the blinds back to the living room floor, plopping him among hundreds of dollars of toys which don't hold his interest nearly as long as a doorstop or air vent, or especially the blinds.
This is how our morning went...
Earlier today, he peed out of his diaper and onto my sheets. Changed him. Left the sheets. Change them later.
I fed Drew, changed his diaper, changed him into clean (dry!) clothes, and picked him up. I walked three feet. Spit up. Everywhere. Changed his clothes. Changed my clothes. Cleaned the carpet.
I got out of the shower and got dressed to leave for Greenville. I picked him up. Warmth all over my only pair of clean jeans and newly washed shirt. Spit up. Everywhere. Changed again.
But as of now he's lying peacefully in his crib next to Monkey. And as I'm typing this, I look down and see I've just spilled coke all over my clean, white shirt. Change again.