Maybe with a drill and a funnel.

Wouldya look at what we've come to around here?! I have stories of Texas for you. I have holiday stuff to show you until you can't stand it anymore. I even (might) have a video! But you are spared for now. I am busy with some work and with being delighted to be with my family, and when I'm not busy, I'm trying to figure out how to open up my ear canal, so that I can pour espresso directly into my brain.
Because, what's up with Little One?! All the moving and traveling about? A little too much loving attentiveness from the over-abundance of doting adults? The fact that spiky teeth the size of boulders are erupting out of her gums? (they are. ouch. the dreaded Molars are arriving, and they are nasty, nasty suckers).
I dunno. Some combo of these and/or other things have led Little One, such a perfect little sleeper all these long months, to believe that night time is for periodic fits of hysterical screaming and inconsolable tears. And that morning starts between 5 and 6 am. I am trying to get work done. I am loving Her up all day. I, thank heavens, have extra hands (the best possible). But I am exhausted. We all are. Was it this hard when She was a newborn? I forget! I can't remember, because my brain cells have been incinerated by the decibels!
Please send helpful advice, good luck, stronger coffee, or elephant tranquilizers. Ooh! Or all of the above. In the meantime, I am going to work on the caffeine-->brain thing, and maaaaybe take a shower. Because if you think Little One looks a bit rough up there, just be glad I didn't post a picture of myself. As we say down here in the country of Texas, it ain't pretty, ya'all.