Right now, it’s barely sunrise. I’ve already had a cup of coffee, washed some dishes, fed the cat, and filed a writing assignment. My newborn baby is asleep a few feet away, ironically, since she kept us up most of the night.
My daughter is exactly one month today. She’s a pretty terrible sleeper, and I’m told that most babies are at this age. She seems to hate the fancy bassinet we bought for our bedroom, and spends most of the night making noises that can only be compared to what I assume a baby dragon sounds like. Naturally, I spend most of the nighttime hours checking on her, making sure she’s not choking or something equally horrific, and picking her up when her noises enter the realm of “I’m gonna start screaming if you don’t hold me, FYI.” I’m not sure how much sleep I got last night, but I’ve somehow begun to learn to function on very little. Continue reading