The Little Nut

There's something to be said for child psychology.

Presently, the baby has three must-have, huge, heavy blankets that he insists go everywhere with him. Three. He makes Linus from "Charlie Brown" seem reasonable. These blankets must go to bed with him, and travel around the house with him. Every time I see a heap of blankets moving across the living room, I know to look for tiny feet underneath to locate the baby.

Usually, this is all worth a good laugh, except for nights like last night when we forgot to turn down the heat before we went to bed. As it turns out, leaving a baby in warm jammies with all his necessary blankets will make him a little, um, warm.

We spent the night filling his bottle so he'd cool off. I'm not sure how many times he drained it. Do you suppose it occurred to me or my husband to haul our lazy buns out of bed and actually turn down the heat? No.

And now I'm washing all the baby's clothes and precious blankets. Those diapers only hold so much, people. And the baby did sleep until almost 10:30 after all.

Go figure.