Yesterday was a very uncharacteristic day for Dillon. Nothing made him happy. He wanted up, then down. He wants to stand, no he wants to sit. He wants to pull Mommy's hair, no... well, actually, he did like doing that - but that's a no-no. I put him down for a nap - yeah, he screamed. I got him out of his crib, yup, still screaming. He did get quiet when I gave him some Tylenol, but when he realized that he was done getting it, he got mad again. I put him in his swing and he feel asleep - while he was screaming - but the stupid phone rang and woke him right up. Nothing worked - not a bottle, not his sucky (he's so trained that the sucky is for sleeping only, that he would just throw it when I would give it to him). So, from about 2:00 until 4:30ish, I had a mad little man. That is until Jason came home. He stopped crying - until Jason didn't pick him up right away. He (Jason) had to finish up a few work items. So, Dillon's crying and I'm about to have a nervous breakdown, when my wonderful husband says to me: "Put him in the bath." As soon as his little body landed in the water he looked at me and smiled! All was well in the Slagle household. Put him in the bath? Duh - why didn't I think of that?!?