Thursday, October 29, 2009

My mom is better than your mom

...this is something I am tempted to taunt all you readers with. Along with the obligatory :::neener neener neeeener:::

Jake is one incredibly awesome kid, and that's not just because I'm biased, swearsies. He has a great personality, loves to play, and only fusses to let you know his diaper needs changing or he's hungry. The only issue we really have is sleeping. He's an INCREDIBLE sleeper....but that's only when he sleeps on you. He loves when Gary and I recline and let him rest on our chest. Ya know that nook right there where your neck & shoulders meet? Jake loves it.

The thing is, I wouldn't be able to accomplish anything else while he slept on me (I do have a sling on its way...day late and a dollar short..). As easy as it is for people to say about someone else's house, ignoring the things that needs to be done inside your home is easier said than done. Ignore the laundry? OK, sure....I'll erect another crib from the pile of clothes.

Well, because of my mom's incredible tips last night, my little man slept in his crib for the first time last night! Previously, he had been sleeping in the pack n play downstairs because he seemed to slightly despise his crib. Oh, and before that, he took a TWO HOUR NAP in his pack n play; he'd usually only sleep about 30 minutes when he's not on us. These are HUGE for us...and my sanity. It is beyond flattering that he wouldn't want to sleep long because he wanted to cuddle with us, but that flattery can only take you so far.

It feels like Christmas morning in this house. How hard it was to not be able to do anything, including showering & eating, was amplified by the fact that I'm physically alone right now with Gary at stupid Fort Knox. I CANNOT WAIT to tell him that his son has been in his crib for an hour and a half, that I can hear him coo a few times but that he puts himself back to sleep.

Those who know our dogs will appreciate this correlation between them & Jake: Thank sweet baby Jesus we got Oreo first.

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