PheMOMena

It is 4:30 AM. I have been awake for two hours, after a two hour cat nap with my daughter. She is now sleeping and here I sit, watching Forensic Files, waiting for Mr. Sandman to come visit me again. The house is quiet, with the exception of the TV and the deep, slightly labored breathing of hubs, Baby K and the animals as they sleep. In the last two hours I have cuddled a crying baby, rocked her, fed her and changed a very full diaper... only to have her fill up another diaper within 5 minutes. I may never get back to sleep. As I turn to my left and look at her little sleeping face in the light of the computer and TV screens, I have no real complaints. I mean, everyone would like more sleep (and trust me, after three weeks, a solid nap would be the best present EVER) but that little familiar face makes it totally worth it. I can smell the baby lotion that I rubbed on her before she went to sleep (the first time). I can see her silhouette in the darkened bedroom-- from the nose down, s...

This probably should have been my very first post, so y'all would know exactly HOW I got suckered into this thing called pregnancy. But, truthfully, I am a little backwards sometimes, so the fact that it ISN'T my first post on this blog is kind of apropos. I find that since this pregnancy hasn't been all sugar and spice, I am... a complainer. Plus, I have ALWAYS said in the past (and my friends have reminded me) that I really wasn't the kind of person to have children. I don't really like kids. Well, ok-- I like being the cool older person/babysitter/auntie figure... and then I like leaving and going back to my home, which is lazy and silent (besides the dogs barking and the infrequent meows from the cat). So what made me want to give up my fantastic house silence for the hustle and bustle of having a kid?? The truth? I was plied with alcohol. Seriously. Picture it: Spring, 2014. I got a text message from one of my college buds-- she wanted to meet up for drinks a...