Rohan cut his first tooth when he was 4 months old. Since then, he's cut the two middle lower teeth, and all 4 upper middles.
That last upper middle, though? The one on the left? THAT one was an asshole. I swear it took WEEKS to even get to where it was showing under the gum (though I could feel it before then). This past week that damn tooth has been turning my nighttimes into night of the living dead. It's gone something like this: Put Rohan to bed. Go get him 1.5-2 hours later when he cries, and give him back his Boppy. Go back in when he cries hysterically an hour later, bring him downstairs to feed and change him. Back to bed (it's not usually about midnight). Up again for a Boppy at 2, then up at 3 or 4 with him crying inconsolably until I bring him into our bed and feed him and pat his back until he falls back asleep.
Did I mention my alarm goes off at 5:30 to start my day?
So then, if people who know me in real life have wondered where Katie's brain has been lately, there's your answer in that paragraph above. So when I misplace my keys (in my pocket), insist you said something you didn't (because you did in my dream), almost back out of the garage while the door is still closed, or get all the way to the gas station before realizing I am not wearing shoes - - - and I am on my way to work - - - you'll know why.
Please note further evidence of my sleep deprivation. This should be 18/30.