Must of been that bottle I gave him at 1am. I know Dr. said not to give bottle anymore, but after that deathly teething week, I am so desperate and shell shocked about not getting sleep I do what I can...After Baby got up we laid in bed watching terrible morning show with Cat. 
Cat tried to claw and bite Baby while Baby tried to rip Cats ear off. All playfully and lovingly of course, however I'm always in the middle and know how expensive injuries to ether can be. "Be nice to Ra Ra" I tell Baby. Baby's eyes gleam whenever he sees Cat and squeals of delight emerge from his smiling face. "Be nice to Baby, No biting!".
Cat always wants to sit on my lap at the same time that Baby is sitting on my lap and this same battle always ensues.
This goes on for another 20 minutes before I actually wake up and realize Nanny will be here shortly, and I still have to get dressed for work.
I leap out of bed and begin the process of wrestling with baby to get him dressed, which he hates and cries as if I am torturing him. stepping over Cat as he jumps under my feet and yowls at me for getting out of bed is always part of the morning.
I try to make sure that I somehow pull my outfit together knowing I have a goodbye lunch with coworkers and a dinner with my boss.
Nanny shows up and gets on the floor to talk to baby in his room. I am relieved due to the fact that I am now already late and I'm not even dressed yet. While I try and squeeze into my spanks
in my room adjacent to Baby's room, Cat keeps opening my bedroom door revealing my donut like white stomach pouring over my spandex spanks as I hop around the room trying to pull a dress over my head. Nanny politely pretends not to notice as I kick the door closed again with my foot. This continues on with Cat until finally the last kick of the door actually latches and stays shut. Cat then sits outside of door with his paw coming from under the door sending me a warning message that if he feels like it, he can and will open the door at any time.
Meanwhile, the first dress I pulled on, my boob keeps popping out of, so I go to adjust the strap and it breaks.
3rd dress works (I'm not even going to go into how heinous 2nd dress looked) and I'm off and running to the kitchen to grab something to scarf down in the car.
Nanny holding baby swiftly picks up a block before I trip over it, she side steps to the counter like an elegant choreographed dancer knowing my insanity as I try and leave the house each morning. Once in the car I blast my new obsession, Edith Piaf's
pre world war 2 french voice fills my car- which makes me feel like two things:
1. a fabulous artistic creative genius in the midst of a life rich with culture and spontaneity, someone who might wear colorful scarves with each outfit and gracefully prances through life happily.
and 2... The weird old cat lady with lipstick clearly outside of the lip line. 
I finally made it into work a half hour late, but luckily my boss also has a new baby and understands the crazy that is my life these days.
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