How can I feed a baby out here, fishing? That doesn't seem sanitary. All I have is worms and granola bars.
Wake up. Its time to feed Abby. Joe. Wake. Up.
Ohhhh yeah. We have a baby. No longer a hospital baby. A asleep in the next room baby. Right? Isn't there a baby? Pretty sure theres a baby. Wake up.
Shes only been home a week and I'm really tired.
Mary is handling the lack of sleep better than I am. I'm surprised by this as I've always been the night owl and Mary has always needed 14 hours of sleep a night. I assume some mom gene activated in her after Abigail was born allowing her to go without sleep. That or there was some voodoo ceremony while I slept wherein my sleep needs were swapped with hers. Like the movie Vice Versa, except just sleep switching and no Judge Reinhold.
On Saturday I went to sleep at 8pm. I shuffled upstairs, told Mary I couldn't do it anymore and went to bed. She looked me in the eyes, saw a defeated, desperate man and let me sleep through the night. The baby broke me in less than a week, a fact I'm not proud of.
I got her bottle ready and changed her. I'm on autopilot, the only thing in me that's awake at all is my irrational resentment of my now soundly sleeping wife.
We sit down for her bottle and I start to wake up. She's completely awake and alert, looking around and making noises.I assume she's threatening me in baby talk. "The minute you close you eyes imma cut your achilles tendon".
She latches onto the bottle and looks up at me as she eats.
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| I own you |
This isn't so bad.
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I love this blog!
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