There's nothing like getting pooped on in the wee hours of the morning and not knowing it until you rub it on your nose. (I feed and change him in the dark.)
There's nothing like a fussy baby who only eats a quarter of what he's supposed to every 45 minutes - starting at 3 am, ensuring you are grumpy and irritable when you get up three hours later...if you were ever down in the first place.
There's nothing like getting a phone call first scolding you for something you inadvertantly did wrong.
There's nothing like getting an email from your insurance saying you owe hundreds of dollars worth of doctor's visits for your newborn...who apparently saw a psychiatrist in Texas the day after he was born...in Nevada, and knowing you have to fight them on it.
And to top it off, there's nothing quite like getting your first rejection letter from a publisher saying they don't feel strongly enough about your work to pursue it.
I guess I just have to hope that tomorrow is better.
Good thing I know what is really important: this little ball of wiggles in my arms who can't decide if he's hungry or if he has sour tummy, if he wants held or put down, if he wants his binkie or not...