We returned from the beach early yesterday afternoon, and I have spent most of the intervening hours trying to process umpteen loads of laundry with a screaming baby planted on my hip. Owen has hand, foot and mouth disease, and oh my, how he cries. He cries and cries and cries, and having Mommy carry him constantly is small comfort but any other arrangement is unacceptable.
The beach was wonderful, we had a great time despite both kids getting sick and averaging roughly two hours of sleep a night. And sure, there were still diapers and bedtimes and a kid who wanted to nurse every 90 minutes, at least until he wanted to nurse not at all, but at least it was the same old grind with ocean breezes and boardwalk fries and sand between our toes.
More later, right now is the first time all day I have been able to put Owen down for longer than two minutes and I intend to devote this small break to the consumption of wine and ice cream.