The cuteness has served an evolutionary purpose over the years, i.e., lessening the urge to sell the kid to the highest bidder

Zeke's sleeping patterns have been weird lately. And by "weird," I mean that one day, such as 2 days ago, he'll go to bed at 7:15 p.m., fuss a couple of times during the night but then sleep until 8:15 in the morning, where as the next day, i.e., last night, he'll pass out cold at 8 and then wake up all bright and chipper at 4:45.

I gave him a bottle with his MRSA medicine in it and set him down in my bed between Jason and me. This worked like a charm the night before (see, e.g., aforementioned reference to sleeping until 8:15 a.m.). This morning it worked...not at all. He drank his bottle with the medicine in it, and tossed and turned for about 15 minutes while I whispered, "Shhh, time for sleep, baby." But then he sat straight up, said "dada," crawled over to Jason to give him a hug, and proceeded to climb off the bed so that he could run around upstairs, chattering and giggling the entire time.

I had woken up at about 4 because my pain medication had worn off and my nose was throbbing, but it was my intention to go back to sleep. But Giggles McGee made sure that was impossible.

So we got up and went downstairs and made some coffee. We called my mom to wish her a happy birthday. Zeke munched on a NutriGrain bar while at the same time dragging most of his toys out of the box, laughing and smiling the whole time. He does his new trick of quick-stepping as if he's trying to dance, and stepping around in a circle.

That's how they get you, these toddlers. You want to be grumpy and irritable because you're up even though the sun won't be out for another hour and a half, and because you're sick and feeling like dogshit. But he's so fucking cute and happy, it's infectious. You start laughing and smiling and playing peek-a-boo, and before you know it, you're having a ball at 5:30 in the a.m.



Resistance is futile.