A failure to plan is a plan to beer

8:00- Wake up before Rhys. Enjoy the experience of watching my son sleep in the lowlight before gently waking him.
8:30- He eats whatever I feed him. No mess. Shorty is cool with it all.
9:00- Carrie sanitized all my equipment before leaving for work, so I can get straight to brewing. Rhys has put himself down for an early nap.
9:30- Steeping grains ends, boil starts. Rhys is still asleep. Shorty catches a mouse. I find 2.5 gallons of pre-distilled water just laying around and add it to the fermenting bucket.
10:30- Boil is over. I put the pot down in an ice bath and don't spill any wort. Rhys wakes up at that moment, singing We Are The Champions in perfect pitch. Shorty turns away a solicitor.
10:45- Wort is down to 70 degrees F. I toss it into the fermenting bucket, and the trub vanishes into thin air. Shorty compliments my choice of Willamette hops as a finish.
11:00- Airlock is bubbling steadily. Rhys dresses himself.
11:30- The three of us go on a walk to pick up lunch and meet Carrie at work.

But really...

6:30- Experience Stalker-Rhys waking me up with slaps in the face.
7:30- Figure out what to feed him. Carrie has left for work.
8:30- Rhys has eaten (something) and is now thumbing through books. I am sanitizing when I realize Shorty is holding his bladder like a champ.
8:45- Rhys tries to climb into my fermenting bucket, which is still wet with sanitizer.
9:00- Rhys is in the bath. He loses it when I take away something sharp that he had hidden until just then.
9:30- Rhys has stopped crying. Shorty is complaining about being out of water. I have finished sanitizing, but I can't find a whole two pound bag of dark DME.
9:35- Take the bag of dark DME from Rhys. Wipe off sticky malt sugars. YouTube dance party until he stops crying.
9:45- Realize I don't have any ice. Drive out to CVS. Rhys throws his toys on the floor during the drive, then whines when he realizes that he's out of toys.
9:50- Cashier comments that Rhys is "such a smiley baby." Rhys blows her a kiss.
10:00- Put on water to sterilize to throw into the fermenter. Shorty takes Rhys falling on him like a champ.
10:30- Rhys fights sleep. I strap him into a baby carrier. Water is not yet boiling.
10:45- Water has boiled for ten minutes. Rhys is whining that he wants to play with random kitchen accessories. Shorty has to dump.
11:00- Poured water into fermenter and refilled pot. Rhys has not fallen asleep yet and is pinching me and grabbing my nose while laughing.
11:15- Water is hot enough for steeping. I cannot find the grain. Rhys has since fallen asleep, which prevents me from stooping or bending to look underneath things.
11:30- Water has started to boil when I find the grains. I turn the heat down. Shorty wakes Rhys up with enthusiastic scratching.
12:00- Steeping is complete. I try to find something for Rhys to eat and start the boil.
12:30- Rhys has eaten his body weight in natural peanut butter and blueberries. He is obviously tired but still fights a nap in his own bed. He also needs a diaper change. I trip on Shorty.
1:00- Boil is complete. I am upstairs, rocking Rhys, hoping he will finally go down this time.
1:05- Rhys does not go down. I set him down in the living room. He chases me with books. I try not to spill magma-hot wort on him when he dives under me putting the pot in the ice bath.
1:30- Rhys inexplicably needs another diaper change. Wort is at 140 degrees F.
2:00- Wort is at 135 degrees F.
2:30- I change the ice water carefully, probably contaminating the wort. Wort is at 120 degrees F.
3:00- Wort is at 80 degrees F. Rhys spills coffee on himself; it was coffee I made that morning, so while it was full, it was also ice cold.
3:30- Wort is at 78 degrees F.
3:35- Wort is at 77 degrees F.
3:40- Wort is at 76 degrees F. I call it good and pour it into the fermenting bucket and pitch the yeast.
3:50- Rhys makes a daring move to drink the vodka from the airlock. He swats it out of my hand in frustration and I have to refill it.
4:00- I realize that there is almost nowhere in the house to put the bucket where Rhys cannot access it. I spend equal amounts of time defending the bucket as thinking of where to put it.
4:15- Rhys trips and falls on the dog out of exhausted discoordination (aka "drunk baby"). I seize the opportunity to place the bucket while he whines for me to pick him up.
4:20- YouTube dance party until Rhys stops crying.
4:50- Carrie comes home. Rhys is all smiles. Shorty acts as if he has been tortured all day.