Good morning, friends. Or is it afternoon? Doesn't matter. Hi! Let me just tell you that life is on permanent fast forward. I want to stop and absorb it all before I miss it -- okay, well not ALL of it, because some of it sucks, but at least the good parts -- however, I am literally just surviving each day. That would be the best way to describe life over the past three weeks (Lola is three weeks old already, do you believe that?!). Anyway, what was I saying? Oh, yeah, right...survival.
I had forgotten about a lovely newborn phase called "the witching hour". Which is not one hour, which would be tolerable. Maybe even palatable. No. It is six hours. My day looks something like this:
I'm really tired. I know that this is my new normal. Three under two is running, without a break, from morning through the night. Things will get easier once we close on the new house (which is now a full month behind schedule) and once Lola is sleep trained and we (meaning Joe and I) are actually sleeping more than two hours at a time. And I'm thankful every day for this crazy. But, holy good god, I'm really tired.
I had more that I wanted to say, but I already forgot what it was so it couldn't have been that important. Anyway, I'm alive