Yesterday was an all around bad day. My lack of sleep catered to my short patience. BabyG is teething. This is basically the run down of yesterday.
It all started by a sleepless night of BabyG waking up every hour because she's teething and constantly wants a boob in her mouth. I woke up more exhausted than what I was before bed. BabyG had her morning happy time for all of an hour then promptly went into screams. Hubby is texting me to bring him food at work and to return some stuff to Wal-Mart. BabyG is crying. I go to get our reusable bags from the spare/stockpile room and on the way down the hall manage to bump the Scentsy plug-in and wax goes EVERYWHERE! Cranberry red splashed on our creamy white apartment wall and beige carpets. BabyG is STILL screaming. I want to pull my hair out. I text Hubby and tell him to fend for himself for lunch and try to scrub up some of the dye from the walls and carpet. To no avail and BabyG is, you guessed it, crying her eyes out.
Fuck it. Back to bed we go! In the short life of BabyG we have had quite a few "re-starts" as I call them. We go back to bed, I nurse her and sometimes I even manage to get in a decent nap. When we are both up from said nap the day generally re-starts a bit better. Well, I turn on Cheers and she gets the last bit from the left boob and screams bloody murder until I move her to the right boob. Halfway through the Cheers episode (A full episode is twenty-one minutes, mind you.) and BabyG is blowing raspberries on my boob and has three fingers shoved in her mouth. I ask her if she's better now and she gives me a slobbery grin and blows more raspberries. I then inform Hubby that I'll go see him after all since BabyG is suddenly in better spirits.