…the boy sleeps through the night.*

*Ironically, I did not. First, I got insomnia because we went to bed too late and I laid there thinking about how I should be sleeping. Then my boobs woke me up at four a.m. After I got up to see if the bun wanted to relieve my burden (which he did not) I went back to bed and writhed for a while, trying to not think about my boobs popping. When I finally fell asleep, I dreamed that I was fighting with my family about not getting enough sleep. When I woke up, it was clear that “The Girls” needed a lot of assistance, so I pumped. By this time I was completely batty, and the sun was high in the sky. Then, the husband started to snore. So I marched upstairs to catch just the tiniest bit of zzz’s on the guest bed, but there were birds and sunshine and general day-ness up there. When I finally fell back to sleep, the bun woke up fresh as a daisy to begin his day at seven a.m.

Kill me.

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