We had a great night on Friday, only to be stymied on Saturday. Sigh. Keith and I are feeling very mystified and discouraged after being awoken all night last night by a very frustrated baby. We tried everything (which is likely part of the problem), but nothing worked. Well, tonight is another night.
And in other unpleasant baby matters...
I remember a time when I could wear something for a short time--say, two hours--and then declare it "mostly clean", hang it up, and wear it again. I don't know when I'll ever see that time again, thanks to my projectile spitter-upper, Zachary.
Case in point:
(The liquid on the sweater is a voluminous amount of spit-up/breast-milk and the thing around my waist is a fab invention called the
My Brest Friend. Every nursing mother should have one.)
