Busy body

Blah blah blah sleeping six hours blah blah blah crazy easter holiday blah blah blah work is killing me blah blah blah back to pilates and working out.

That about sums up the last few days.

Jack is turning the corner on the sleeping. I think. I hope. I probably just jinxed it.

He has slept 5-6 hours overnight for five nights now. I am hoping this is a trend and not some game he is playing with my fragile psyche.

The daytime napping is good -- twice a day for two or three hours at a stretch, in his swing. Thank God for the swing. Because if this kid is not swaddled, he will have none of the putting him down in his crib.

Today, we transitioned him to his big-boy stroller. We took off the bassinette feature of the stroller and converted it to a reclined seat. He seemed to be bored in the buggy mode, and I would be too if I laid on my back and looked at the sky while some woman narrated the scenery to me.

So we took him to the grocery store in the new format and he didn't make a peep. He looked around at everything and seemed to like being able to check out his surroundings. And of course, the lights. This child is obsessed with the lights.

Unfortunately, that's all I got for ya.

I am exhausted after working all day. And I have had help with Jack almost every day for the last two weeks. But it's still a lot to wake up in the middle of the night, feed him, get him back to sleep and get myself back to sleep.

Even when Josh gets up with him, I still have to pump, so it's not like I get a real break.

Then I get up with Jack in the morning, get him ready for the day, get myself ready (if a ponytail and sweats counts as "ready"), work all day, head out to pilates two nights a week, come home, get him in the bath and to bed, shower and eat dinner. By the time I am ready to go bed, it's after 11 and I should already be asleep if I expect to function the next day.

I can't imagine working outside the house and having to get up and get myself and Jack totally ready to leave the house by 8:30 a.m. I would have a nervous breakdown.

Your reward for reading this drivel?


Mommy, come have a cocktail on the veranda with me.


Higher, Daddy, higher.


Seriously, can't I just go down by myself?