When Jack is 25 and in therapy because I screwed him up so badly as an individual he cannot function in normal life, this picture will be further evidence of my failure.

Yes, it just looks like a baby sleeping, but it’s oh so much more than that. After two failed nap attempts yesterday afternoon, and a few hours of walking around the house with a crying baby and trying to figure out what in the name of all that is holy was wrong with the kid, I broke down and put him in his favorite napping place, the car seat. (The worst thing, as my mother can verify, is that the child only likes to be held upright, with his little mouth right next to my fragile ear.)

I still do not know what was wrong with him. But I was so distraught yesterday afternoon the only thing that mattered to me was that the child go to sleep. I even locked the dogs out of the house for a while because I couldn’t handle all three of them. Oh, and I gave him more Tylenol just in case that bruise on his leg from the shots was still hurting.

To compound matters, Guido has been drooling. He is not a drooling type of dog, so this new development was rather alarming. When you do a quick search around online about newly-drooling dogs, you realize the animal will have to go to the vet. Of course I can’t take him to the vet, so Joe has to come home at 6:30 to do so. I can think of about 12.5 million things I would rather Joe do if he is going to come home at 6:30 from work.

Turns out Guido has an ear infection, or maybe something wrong with his teeth, or maybe an upset stomach. So we have a drawer full of medication to give him for all possible ailments and hopefully the drooling will cease.