I know I'm freakin' obsessive compulsive and want things done a certain way NOW, and I am somewhat tired, so perhaps that's at the root of this rant....

Last night Caleb went down at around 8:00 after eating...fed by me. Earlier, at 5:00 when he was hungry, he was fed by me because the other feeder in the house was busy playing baseball. He actually told Caleb, "Kay, wait, cuz I'm in the tenth inning...I'm almost pau." I laughed it off because it was so freakin' ridiculous and fed Caleb.

At 12:00 Caleb was up, wanting to eat...so I got up and fed him. Dave got up as Caleb was yelling while I was making his milk but I just decided to feed him myself. I did ask Dave, though, to go and wash the mixing cup and whisk that I make the milk with. Okay, so that's all I asked for, so that's all I got...I guess that could be summed up as my fault...but frick, if you SEE dried bottles waiting to be put back together, and empty water bottles waiting to be filled, can you just freakin' do it??? So after I'm pau feeding Caleb and put him back down, I head to the kitchen to wash the bottle I just used. Boy am I pissed to see unfinished crap in there...so I do it, getting more pissed off by the minute, and then return to bed...part of me wants to wake Dave up and rip him a new butthole right then and there, the other part of me prays hard to calm down and be rational. Wow...the rational side actually wins out this time and after a good half hour of stewing, I go to sleep. At 5:00 Caleb's up again wanting to be fed and this time Dave doesn't wake up...which is fine since he has to wake up for work in another hour and a half or so....I feed Caleb, clean up, and go back to bed...only to have Caleb start fussing again so I grab him and bring him back to our bed so I can sleep a little bit too...anyways, he sleeps, then wakes up fussing again at around 6:15 so I not-so-nicely tell Dave to freakin' get him cuz I'm tired.

On the drive to work, I (somewhat) calmly explain to Dave that I would like him to show some consideration and think about what he could do to help make things a little bit easier for me...just like how I think of things that could make it easier for him when I leave him with Caleb alone. I then go off on a little tangent, explaining that the house is (relatively) neat, the clothes get washed, and his meals get made...so I don't think I'm asking for too much when I ask for bottles to be made and water to be filled. He agrees, apologizes, and that's that....kind of...

On the way home after dropping Dave off, Caleb starts to scream bloody murder. We get home and I make his milk and get set to feed him...using a bottle that Dave put together the previous night (he insisted that at the 8:00 feeding he DID put A bottle together...). So I sit down in the rocking chair to feed Caleb, wrap the towel under his neck, and proceed to feed....and as soon as I tilt that bottle to feed him, milk comes gushing out all onto Caleb and me. I try to rescrew the bottle cap, thinking that's the problem, then try to feed again...the other half of the bottle then falls onto Caleb and me. By this time I'm pissed, Caleb's crying, and we're soaked with milk. So I pull off both of our clothes, change his diaper and clothes, go get me a new shirt, and proceed to go make another bottle as Caleb screams bloody murder again.

Needless to say, it has not been a good day thus far...luckily after feeding Caleb he took a nap and is now up again. So his schedule's all off, I'm all irraz, and we'll see how the rest of the day goes...

PS...I LOVE Dave...hehe.