Today doesn't count.

February 29th is that bonus day that I could totally do without. Because it only happens every four years I've determined that it's okay to just call it in and quit early today. And by that I mean television, another coffee, and an ice pack during naptime.

It's cold out. Like, wear-your-parka cold out. It was just-a-cardigan warm out on Friday. Quit playing games with my heart, weather man, and, while we're at it, don't promise a weekend of rain if you're just going to back out at the last minute.

Parker slept in over an hour this morning. Normally I'd be fist pumping and chest bumping and confetti throwing, but he had his nine month appointment today and it was supposed to be right after naptime. So it was right during naptime. And I had to leave the house early to get him to nap in the car for fifteen minutes and then he woke up screaming at the poor nurse at the doctor's office. The kid that normally does fine with the car power naps. The kid that normally loves the nurse at the doctor's office. That kid that I was actually excited to show off at the doctor's office because he's usually just so darling. The kid that's teething again and screamed at the banana I tried to feed him with before we left for our drive. The kid that is currently happy as a clam rolling around on the floor trying to eat his bucket seat. That kid.

Parker's official weight is just shy of 23 lbs. I'm wearing a wrist brace. His girth has broken me. My now borderline OCD kitchen cleaning tendencies are on the back burner because it's really hard to do the dishes while wearing a wrist brace. And emptying the dishwasher is still going to hurt. Let's not even talk about what it's like knitting right now. And I really just want to drink a gallon hot chocolate right now, but Parker's nine months old already and apparently the baby weight really won't just lose itself. But I might just have to keep putting that theory to the test.

The doctor told me that it sounds like Parker's allergic to strawberries and he shouldn't have them again until he's four. It's probably best to avoid kiwis, too, since the two allergies usually go hand in hand. I can't believe I brought a child into this cruel world.

I got a much anticipated haircut on Saturday. I showed her a picture of what I wanted wanted and told her I hated the weird top layer people keep giving me and am glad it's almost grown out. She then proceeded to cut my hair to the same length as the weird top layer and cut the weird top layer shorter. At least my bangs aren't in my eyes anymore. I tried taking a picture but I can't take selfies anymore with my sore wrist.

Parker is now eating my favourite purse. He'll probably get poisoned by the plastic and the strap with break beyond repair.

Bring on the coffee.