Tantrum

I got to work this morning and realized that, yes, I had brought my breast pump. However I had forgotten to bring any of it's parts. They were all in the dishwasher at home.

And I was like some holstien who's dairy maid was late in arriving with her bucket and stool.

Thank the good Lord our basement floor has a Target and it had just enough parts in stock for me to relieve myself. Probably not a bad idea for me to have a spare set in case something were to happen and a part would break or I just needed to wash them before the next use.

It's going to be one of those days. Of course, I should have guessed that when Sasha woke up screaming at 2am and none of the normal things we tried seemed to console him.

Not food.
Not a clean diaper.
Not walking, patting and singing.
Not rocking.
Not making him stand.
Not his pacifier.
Not a cold teething ring.

Finally, Hubby (it was his turn to try something) gave up and put him down on his play mat where his toys are. Instantly he stopped crying and gave a big smile.

Yup. He woke up screaming like we were jabbing him with red-hot pokers because he wanted to play. Not any physical need or discomfort. This was about toys.

If this is any indication of his toddlerhood, my God give me strength.