for the first time in at least a week, i slept well last night. So well, in fact, huzby claimed i pushed him out of bed. While I somehow doubt this claim -- it sounds so unlike me -- if I truly did it, I feel no remorse. I take it for payback on all the nights he stole the covers in the dead of winter and I was too in love to steal them back -- him resembling a Hot Pocket of en utero comfort revisited. so now, if i splay across the bed after giving baby awesome a hearty midnight feeding, i feel it a just reward.
what a cut-throat motherhood and wifery has made of me.
the babe sleeps upstairs as I write this.
ah, the favors done me by the twilight dust muses.
(and when i say muses, i mean the pillows and the ceiling fan that BA often babbles to upon waking or being put to bed. enjoying his own mystical communications with inanimate objects for 15 to 30 mins at a time.)
i do apologize for writing almost exclusively about him and family life -- but for now that is the sum of my new experiences and my own fascination. i hope not to bore you too much.