Walk to the Doctor's

Hi Cuties,
This morning was one of those mornings that you can only imagine before you have a kid.  Charlie was up all night again last night and I was feeling a little, uh, fatigued this morning.  The mister sat with Charlie for an hour before leaving for work and delivered him to me around 9AM with a shrug.  "Very fussy this morning."  Having used my hour for sleep, I was stupidly optimistic that I would find the time to shower sometime before our 12:45PM doctor appointment. Wrong!  Charlie usually naps for a bit in the morning, but not today.  Today was reserved for inconsolable crying and spitting up and both mommy and baby were feeling like a MESS.  There is nothing more frustrating and heartbreaking than a miserable baby. I wish he could tell me what was wrong!  Something, clearly something was wrong, but what?  The minutes ticked by and I started to realize that neither of us were in any kind of shape to face the world.  Around noon I abandoned the idea of showering and just focused on getting Charlie's pants on him.  A view into Charlie's nursery would have shown the tragic scene of mommy getting Charlie ready for the walk to the doctor.  Sad mommy standing over the changing table gulping out a shaky rendition of "Sunshine Day" while trying to pull baby's little sweatpants on, tears all around, of course.  Yikes.  Once we actually went for our "walk outside" Charlie settled down.  I certainly looked like crap but I suppose that only gives credence to the "new mommy" title. I guess it is important to rock the unshowered look as a badge of honor but I kept flash forwarding to my inevitable intervention from Stacy and Clinton.  "I've just been so focused on being a mommy, I guess I've put my own style on the back burner" I'll wail, as I take in the secret footage of my walk to the doctor in day-old leggings and a Britney Spears-type ponytail mess on my head.  
Tomorrow is another day though.  Tomorrow, mommy and Charlie have no obligations, just the hope of a walk to Old Navy to shop for onesies.  And if it doesn't happen, it doesn't happen.
xo,
C