I'm irritated today.
I'm not irritated for any particular reason; I'm just feeling prickly. Little things, which would normally slide off of my back, are sticking in my craw, and I'm ready to start fights. My humor, which is normally somewhat... edgy... is trending towards the vicious.
I got decent sleep last night, all things considered. While it's hard to wake every other hour to take care of diaper business, I still got a solid five or six hours of sleep. That should be enough, considering that I got eight hours on Friday night.
Reviews are coming of two important things: the Battlestar Galactica series finale, which was Friday night; and Watchmen, the movie made from the comic book series. In short, I loved them both immensely and can't wait for the director's cut DVDs.
The Boy was fine. He didn't fall asleep until 11 o'clock, which we expected considering his nap schedule in the late afternoon yesterday. He didn't stir during the 1AM changing, but he woke at 3AM and screamed like he was bitten. That would be the second night in a row that he did that. After twenty minutes or so, I got him calmed down. The pediatrician came (she had to finish a spinal tap before coming), and that irritated him further. We gave him some Tylenol.
He was grabbing at his feet and his legs. I'm not sure if that is where the pain was located or if those things happened to be convenient to grab. When I touched him, he freaked out. He was back to sleep around 4, and I followed soon after.
It wasn't the worst night I've spent in the hospital with him, and it wasn't the best. I did allow myself the luxury of letting the nurse do the 5AM changing so that I could skip waking up.