Well, I'm back from Chicago, and it's good to be home. Today, a full week after arriving, it's like I never left. Whew.
Little Mister has decided that the twilight hours are specifically reserved for the All Night Buffet. I can only sleep on my left side or he wakes up, crying and whining, pulling my hair for me to turn over and face him, then he promptly begins drinking again. Fun times. Oh well. They're only little for a small amount of time. Just watch the Carter's commercials ("If they could just stay little 'till their Carters wear out...").
My new Medela Swing Pump worked like crap, in case you're wondering. Maybe a first-time mom would have better luck with it. Me? I would pump for two hours and wind up with 3 1/2 ounces. Let's just say I was more happy to see Logan than he was to see me, if that's possible. He ate until he puked. Whew.
Anyway, back on the ranch, my husband kept up very nicely. Still, he didn't get everything done he had hoped. Welcome to Parenthood.
It's freezing in New York this week. In spite of my miserly self, I have set the heat at 72 degrees. Yes, it's that cold.
As we always do at this time of year, my husband and I toyed with the idea of moving to a warmer climate. I'm always open to relocating, at least in theory. Chicago? Not so much. Miami? California? Virginia? Just say the word. Unfortunately, we are kind of stuck here, since we have Princess. And that's fine.
After all, we have a wonderful life here. Just a cold one.
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