Back in the day, when I did the same general sort of work for eight or ten hours at a time, I thought I was the type of person who needed a lot of sleep. Eight-and-a-half hours a night was my ideal for functioning at full capacity. Lately I have discovered I can function quite well on six hours' sleep, managing to be sociable, productive, and at least somewhat intelligent. Now I think the old tiredness was due largely to boredom, not the fact that I had slept for only (*gasp*) seven hours the night before. Because now there just isn't time to get bored.
Another mom in my postpartum yoga class shared this decidedly parent-unfriendly bit of trivia: A hearing study determined that it takes exactly 1.5 seconds for a baby's cry to cause some level of auditory damage. It's a miracle I'm not deaf by the time I'm done showering in the morning. (Ghoulie hates shower time. Six inches from the tub, strapped into a bouncy seat, is a long, long way away from Mommy.)
I wish that it was socially acceptable to say to people, "Please do not give us any more baby gifts. The changing table and the toy box are already overflowing, and it just means that I have to write another thank-you note." Of course that statement does not apply to anyone who reads this blog. Unless you're waiting for a thank-you note.
I'm considering learning needle-point so that I can stitch on Ghoulie's sling, YES THERE REALLY IS A BABY IN HERE. But that would mean learning needle-point.
And lastly, a baby sleeping across your lap as you amuse yourself with your blog is an adorable sight:
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