...I am opening the front door in my robe at 1pm. Because I have an INFANT. Hold the judgement please.
For the past week or so, our darling little one has let us know that her ideal sleep schedule is between 3am and 11am. While we foolishly thought we could put her down when we went to bed at 10, she let us know in no uncertain terms that 10 pm is time for her to be walked, bounced and entertained. So we are trying to roll with that.
The weather has been cold and windy, not ideal for going out with her. But I'm getting a little sick of the apt. Yesterday I left her with Chris while I ran errands. I was gone maybe an hour, and I knew she was safe, but I did not like being away from her one bit. The whole time I imagined her hungry and crying and I felt super selfish for leaving. By the time I got home I was shaking with anxiety. She, of course, was asleep and happy as could be in daddy's arms. He, then, had to calm ME down. It's a process. I'll will get better at it. I'm so in love with this little miracle. How could I not be?
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