So I keep meaning to write here and I keep not doing it. This is pretty much the only record I have of his childhood, since I never got around to getting a baby book and I take tons of photos but never print them.
He is sooooo frickin' cute. He says way more words now (happy, choo choo, toes, shoes, cheese, bye bye, car) and is walking up a storm. We're trying to teach him to go into the crib and while it is getting a little easier, he's still not really having it. Which is fine with me. Co-sleeping is not convenient, but when he woke up from his crib the other night and I brought him into bed with me, we snuggled for hours. I woke up before he did and just looked at his sweet sleeping face, and I swear to God it was the happiest I have ever been in my whole fucking life. So can you blame me for not wanting to give it up just yet?
The flip side is that he is starting to get willful and throw little mini-tantrums. And sleep is still hard. Yesterday I broke down and cried. We'd both been awakened the night before at 4:15 by two feral fucking cats going at it. (Feral cats? Really? I swear to God if I still lived in Texas I'd have grabbed a gun and shot them, that's how angry I was.) I couldn't get him back to sleep until 6:30, then we both overslept. I went to work, had meetings all over Manhattan, and left earlier than usual because I felt like I had jet lag. I still had work to do but I figured I'd do it at home after we went to bed. And then he just REALLY didn't want to go to bed. I let my husband try to put him in the crib while I made dinner, but he was screaming so hard I had to take over. It took 40 minutes to get him in the crib, then I finally got to eat dinner while logging in and finishing my work. I collapsed at 10:00 p.m. He woke up in the crib at that time so I just brought him to bed with me. We finally got a little sleep, although another cat woke us up at 4:00. This time we both fell back to sleep, fortunately.
So yeah. This mommy business is amazing, and hard.
He is sooooo frickin' cute. He says way more words now (happy, choo choo, toes, shoes, cheese, bye bye, car) and is walking up a storm. We're trying to teach him to go into the crib and while it is getting a little easier, he's still not really having it. Which is fine with me. Co-sleeping is not convenient, but when he woke up from his crib the other night and I brought him into bed with me, we snuggled for hours. I woke up before he did and just looked at his sweet sleeping face, and I swear to God it was the happiest I have ever been in my whole fucking life. So can you blame me for not wanting to give it up just yet?
The flip side is that he is starting to get willful and throw little mini-tantrums. And sleep is still hard. Yesterday I broke down and cried. We'd both been awakened the night before at 4:15 by two feral fucking cats going at it. (Feral cats? Really? I swear to God if I still lived in Texas I'd have grabbed a gun and shot them, that's how angry I was.) I couldn't get him back to sleep until 6:30, then we both overslept. I went to work, had meetings all over Manhattan, and left earlier than usual because I felt like I had jet lag. I still had work to do but I figured I'd do it at home after we went to bed. And then he just REALLY didn't want to go to bed. I let my husband try to put him in the crib while I made dinner, but he was screaming so hard I had to take over. It took 40 minutes to get him in the crib, then I finally got to eat dinner while logging in and finishing my work. I collapsed at 10:00 p.m. He woke up in the crib at that time so I just brought him to bed with me. We finally got a little sleep, although another cat woke us up at 4:00. This time we both fell back to sleep, fortunately.
So yeah. This mommy business is amazing, and hard.
