Pajama-Mama Day

It's after 1pm. I'm still in my pajamas. I also have a robe stylishly thrown over them. It's a leopard print fleece robe so that's why it makes my ensemble "stylish". Right?

Why, you might ask, am I still in my pj's?

Because there is a teething child in the house.

Because she got up 4 times last night. (At least that's how many times I remember.)

Because she was screaming bloody murder over two teensy pearly whites that evidently brought the pain of an elephant sitting on her gums.

Because each time I woke up to the wailing, I rolled over, in complete denial that I was the ONLY person in the ENTIRE WORLD who could solve her problems.

Because each time I dragged (or is it drug?) my tired self out of bed, my feet hit the cold tile in the hallway and served as a sharp reminder that it's winter I was not in my cozy bed with my hubby where I so badly wanted to be.

Because after trying the normal feed her, offer teething tablets, pat the bottom, rub the back, sing a song and dance routine, wouldn't always make things better.

Because once she finally calmed down, I'd sit in the rocker, half dazed in tiredness and relief, soaking in that my baby was peacefully snuggling with me.

Because I was rudely awakened (the final time) by a fluffy red hen who believes, being the dominant hen, that she is a rooster and therefore needs to crow. At least she attempts to crow. It's more like a warbled squawking. This noise is rather obnoxious and makes the other hens flee to the safety of their house.

Because I had to throw cereal at said "crowing" hen to get her to shut up.

Because today, I feel like a zombie.

That's why.