Because
I always attempt to keep things real around these parts, without spouting too
many puppies or rainbows or giggles or happily-ever-afters...
We
are in the middle of hand-foot-mouth recovery, two-teeth popping through madness,
congested-and-yet-constantly-running-nose yuck, low-grade fevers, thrush for
both mama and baby AGAIN, refusing to even consider organic white cow's milk
stubbornness, a couple nights of partying screaming from about
1:00am-3:00am, and have-to-be-held-at-all-times moods.
Oh,
and did I mention that about 170 ounces of breastmilk in my freezer have, out of
nowhere, gone bad? Leaving 30 measly ounces that are also slightly
questionable.
There's
not enough Merlot in my kitchen (or in the world) at this moment...
The only comfort I can offer is that I'll have a large and in-charge glass of whatever adult beverage you need waiting for you this weekend. Yuck, yuck, and more yuck. So sorry, Mama P. :(
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