I don't know about you, but I think that if I woke up lying in a pool of my own vomit, urine and oh, probably some mucus thrown in there for good measure, and had to suffer through a 1 a.m. bath and wardrobe and bedding change, I'd be a little less smiley and cheerful than Charlotte was this morning.

So, I'm in the running for the worst parent of the year, leading in the category of "Most Likely To Let Her Child 'Cry It Out' Until She Gets Physically Sick." I'd like to thank my agent.

Crying it out sucks.