Army, baby, baby boy, catbook, dreams, husband, Kids, kids, killian, military, motherhood, sleeping habits, worries

I’m the mom of a 7-week old…

When did that happen? Seriously, it’s so weird how fast time goes by. I’ve been trying so hard not to blink because I know if I do, he’ll already be 18 and heading off for college (or the military if he’s like his daddy). It certainly doesn’t help that every time my husband comes home from working all weekend he tells me that Killian has gotten bigger. I’ll just invest in eye drops so I don’t have to miss anything…

I’ve been having the weirdest dreams lately. Well, I’m not sure you can even call them dreams really. About an hour after Killian’s 5 am feedings, in a half-awake state, I can’t remember putting him back in his pack-n-play to sleep. And of course, since I can’t remember, I just assume that I brought him back to bed with me. So in a panic, I try to find him somewhere between my husband and myself. Which, of course, wakes me up enough to remember slowly lowering him into his pack-n-play, shhing in his ear when he stirred, turning on his heartbeat white noise, and swaddling him in the extra blanket that I’d laid out for him. It’s absolutely crazy how often this wakes me up at night. I don’t know if this means that I have little to no faith in my parenting, or that I’m just overly protective. It’s possibly both…

I know I don’t post as much as I used to. I just hate posting if I don’t really have anything meaningful to say (even if I do post at least once a week). It’s not that my days aren’t full, but let’s face it: who really wants to hear about everything my kid does. Sure, I find his bright colored poops endearing, his coos to be the cutest thing on earth, and his wobbly attempts to hold his head up to be equal to a Strong Man competition. But seriously, there’s a pretty fine line between having a relevant momblog and being that mom that posts everything their kid does. You know the one; every (and I mean every) post is about their kid’s eating, pooping or sleeping habits. Day in, day out, it’s eat, sleep, poop. It’s almost as bad as having a Catbook and posting all day: “Miss Kitty Fantastico took a nap in a sunspot.” “Miss Kitty Fantastico hit her head on the table.”

Miss Kitty Fantastico meowed…

But all snark aside, I totally have to admit, there’s a reason I know what Catbook is. >^.^<


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