Let's see if I can accomplish this succinctly.
1) Shortly after breakfast I developed a seriously bad headache. Jillsie was NOT PLEASED that Mommy had to rest. Never mind that it has been weeks since my nausea was bad enough that I've had to rest in front of her. The Tylenol I took was useless. Jillson whining and pulling on my shirt and climbing on me and yelling "No, Mommy! No, resting!" was not helping either.
2) Eventually we loaded into the car to go feed Mike's fish. He lives a few towns away. Got halfway there and realized I'd forgotten his keys. Still battling the headache. Went home, got the keys, got half way back to Mike's and there was a detour, routing us all the way out to a neighboring town and back into Mike's town. Finally made it to Mike's house and back home, but the whole ordeal took over an hour. The entire ride home Jillson was whining "I don't wanna go home, I don't wanna go home."
3) Note: Those of you who are not yet parents may wish to skip this paragraph. Naptime wasn't happy. Jillsie cried for about 35 minutes, then was quiet for a while, then started up again. Normally, she sleeps from 1-4pm. This time she wsn't quiet until 2:15 or so and then "slept" only until 3:30. When I went in to her, the entire room reeked of poo because--surprise, surprise--there was poo everywhere. She was standing in her crib without her diaper on. She had thrown all of the items that were in her crib out of the crib because they were covered with poo. She had also thrown her diaper (clean) and several pieces of poo out of the crib. Her crib sheet, bumper, most of the crib slats, and some sections of the wall were coated in poo. TELL ME THIS ISN'T SOME SORT OF PAYBACK FOR TAKING BINKY AWAY.
4) After the poo triage, Jillsie and I headed off to the pool. She has been asking to go swimming every day. It was finally nice enough to try to go. (Okay, the weather was barely nice at all, but I needed OUT of the house.) Thankfully, we had a nice hour and a half at the pool. Then, all of that nice pool chill out 'tude we'd both acquired was completely erased by the hysterical car ride home. "I want to go in the water! I want to go in the water! Mommy, stop driving! No! No! No!" All at the top of her lungs.
Aunt Heather thought that 3 was harder with her son than 2 was, but I'll tell you what. Two is kicking my butt.