So I've found another blog that I am really enjoying reading (takes some of the pressure of Liv, Mom, and Linds). It's written by a mother and is only about being a mother and all the joyous, torturous, frustrating things that go with it. It's fun to read, but more importantly, her baby (The Pumkin) sounds A LOT like Abby (read her post about fidgety babies--it's Abby to a tee). A Fussy Baby. An Active Baby. An Adorable-But-Trying Baby. It just makes me feel like I'm not alone and that it IS possible to survive this whole motherhood thing. Plus, she's due with another child any time now which makes me feel like maybe someday I too will want to have another child. Maybe.
Anyway, I was reading some of her older posts this morning in order to feel better about last night's debacle (the details are unimportant, let's just say two-thirds of the family weren't sleeping well) and found this gem.
"Apparently the car seat is the most evil device ever created to torture the baby! But my boobs... They are magic!"
I feel better already.
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