For those of you keeping score at home, I am losing the Battle of the Sick Baby. The "It-should-only-last-a-few-days" virus that has consumed my son is now on roughly day eight. There was a small glimmer of hope over the weekend. Yet, here we are, 11:37 pm on a Monday night, listening to the sound of a moaning baby. The temperature has gone down (thanks to the happy juice - his, not mine) and he seems to be uncomfortable still. My husband and I had a blow-out (later apologized - him, not me - ha) and now we sit wondering why the hell people go for round 2 at all.

Tonight is going to be a long, fucking night.