Love that highchair. I mean

Love that highchair. I mean it, it is wonderful. Evan ate lunch in there today (mixed fruit and a zwie toast, if you must know) and it was so much easier. And E seemed to like it too.

Last night was another rough one (though not nearly as bad as Saturday night). We'll get to the bottom of this. Being a parent is sometimes like being a detective. Trying to figure out what's making your baby mad when he can't tell you--looking for clues, eliminating certain things. It's interesting, to say the least.

E's napping now though, so I'm going to take this time to get a bit done around the house. I'll start by getting all the sticky toast bits off the highchair...