New Year’s

Our new Year’s Eve was, um, uneventful. That is to say, Caedmon went to bed at his normal time and I was so exhausted that I was asleep by 10:30. And when I say “asleep”, I mean dead to the world. Poor Husband rang in the new year by himself, watching Indiana Jones and The Last Crusade. And listening to our idiot kind, considerate, thoughtful neighbors shoot fireworks and whoop and holler out in the street like morons people who were excited about the new year. I heard their shenanigans and promptly went back to sleep, leaving Husband to worry with Oz, who didn’t appreciate the fireworks either.

New Year’s Day, my guys let me sleep in, which was much appreciated. And we spent the day hanging out at home, doing laundry, and other good things like that.

It was cold outside. After the warm days we’d had the past week, it was hard for Caedmon to spend the day inside. So I found a way for my little amphibian to have some fun while I worked in the kitchen.

We started with a tub of warm water in the floor, pajama pants, and a ball, a cup, and some measuring cups and spoons.

He. was. happy.

But then the pants got wet and had to be removed. If there’s one thing the boy can’t stand, it’s for his clothes to be wet. At all. As in, if he gets his sleeves wet when he’s washing his hands, he strips the shirt off.

And then he sort of went swimming.

We had to stop for a potty break. Which meant Caedmon noticed that his undies were wet (with water), which necessitated a change. When I said, “Aren’t you just going to get those wet too?” He thought for a minute and said, “You can just buy me some more undies.”

Somehow, we ended up with some Hot Wheels and a cow in the tub.

Which was followed by the head dunk.

Which was immediately followed by pouring water over his head.

At which point I had to say “enough.” Besides, it was about naptime. Finally. But since he didn’t actually take a nap that day, my whole “get some energy out” plan sort of backfired.

That’s our New Year’s excitement.

And now I’m attempting to spend the week putting the house and my mental state back to normal after weeks of “holiday” life. I desperately want to clean and organize just about everything. Which isn’t helped any by pregnancy hormones. We are all in trouble.