Wednesday.

I come to the end of this day and I feel like I must be crazy for staying up and surfing around the web. A few hours ago I would've given anything to speed up the bedtime shenanigans just to get a little peace and quiet and slip into a semi-coma.

But now the house is quiet, except for the heavy breathing of my fat little baby girl laying in between me and Mark. He's the smart one and he's already out. I really should gently move her into her own crib/room, but somehow I just don't really feel that push to get her to move on to that level of independence. She's so sweet and squishy and fat fat fatty. And she needs me. She is a professional spooner.

Besides, who am I kidding? I have yet to get a child of mine to sleep through the night until precisely 14 months of age when I just happen to slip to the brink of insanity because I am still nursing them on demand throughout the night...or as one pediatrician put it, "He is living his nutritional life at night. It's like an all you can eat midnight buffet." I stressed over the situation with the first 4. Now, I'm just spooning and I figure I'll stress at 13 months 3 weeks and 6 days.