Last night, as I was up AGAIN with a crying boy, wearing the same PJs I have worn for 2 days (going on the 3rd this morning), I almost complained to my husband. "You don't know how hard this is!" Almost. As soon as the thought was on the tip of my tongue, I remembered that this is the man who was working last night until 2am... and that "getting home early" is when he comes home before 6:30, which happens about once a week. And here he is volunteering to help with Kyle in the middle of the night, just trying to be helpful.
Phew, for once in my life, I'm glad I thought Before I spoke. There is nothing to do but laugh... and a shower would be good.
Oh well, this too shall pass.
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