he can sort his own damn socks

I took Josie to the pediatrician this morning because she has been so fussy over the last couple of days, I was convinced she must have an ear infection (she doesn't). Gabe and I played nonstop today. We made cookies from scratch (hamentaschen, for those of you who celebrate Purim). I dusted the whole house. I did 3 loads of laundry. I folded the laundry. I put dinner together (grilled salmon, rice, salad, and butternut squash soup). I cleaned the kitchen after dinner. I loaded and unloaded the dishwasher. I did all of this while wearing Josie in the sling, and intermittently comforting and nursing her.

After dinner and loading the dishwasher and bringing all the loads of laundry up for folding, I was sitting on the floor sorting all the folded clothes into the different baskets. Josh was lying across the couch with the dogs lying across him. I would pause in my sorting to fast forward through the commercials as we watched our recorded show, when Josh reached his arms out and (in this "I'm doing you the biggest favor ever" voice) said he'd be happy to fast forward for me so I didn't have to stop my folding.

I stared at the piles of clothes around me... looked at him lying comfortably on the couch... smelled the spit-up all over me... the exhaustion oozing out of my pores... and then I threw the remote at his head.

Okay, not really. But I wanted to.