Day six of forty degree temperatures on and off and I am at my wits end. My boy shows small glimmers of his usual demeanour in the “pumped up on empaped” window. The rest of the time, he sleeps, whines, or stares blankly at the TV. We usually have an energiser bunny on our hands, who can’t sit still for a moment. It’s driving me crazy and I don’t know what else to try. I’m missing my little whirlwind running through the house, laughing and playing. I would rather have him being on his worst behaviour than this. Give me a naughty child any day, this sick one is breaking my heart.
A Full House
Baby Makes Six 