Good thing I have an IUD

I'm, um, babysitting. I think the better word for that in this case would be baby screwing-up.

The parents left about, oh, an hour or so ago. Baby would not eat. Baby would not stop crying. Baby almost puked from crying. I have baby drool all over me. Which would be fine, if it weren't because Baby didn't want to stop crying.

See, Baby didn't have any mom boob for soothing. And Baby did not like that. I had no momboob smell to me, but OMG I did have momboob juice in that sippy cup. IT WAS NOT MOM BOOB!!!!

No boob juice for this baby. Any overture of me trying to soothe him was not gonna happen. I even tried for food. Bouncy chair thing that hangs from the doorjam. Singing. Dancing. No boob juice, just CRYING.

He apparently is somewhat soothed by Donald Fagan, which is fine. I have The Nightfly on

The dogs even whined a little as I sweated around the house trying not to panic. I didn't panic, but I felt really, really bad for the poor boy!

Eventually I just put him down several times without eating anything. He is quiet now. In a bit I'm going to go look at him and make sure he's not just quiet because he's dead. I'm pretty sure he's alive, though.

(oh god please let him be alive....)














He's alive. He's asleep. He's breathing. Whew.