Tired. So very tired. All of us. Even Miles. But he doesn't want to sleep at night. We do. He doesn't. He wants to be held. We want to sleep on our sides or stomachs, not our backs because he is on our chests. He wants to eat. He just ate. Literally just ate. I just finished feeding him 15 minutes ago. He is not hungry. He thinks he is hungry. He is not hungry.
Adorable. So very adorable. In the 20 days he has been in our family, he has grown so much. He almost fits into all of his "newborn" clothes. Almost.
Fat. So very fat. The scale doesn't show how big I really feel. Haven't seen the gym since November. Flabby. And pale. When can I take him to the pool? Tanned fat looks better than pale fat. None of my pre-pregnancy pants fit me. Yet. Need to go shopping. How much can I get done in Miles' 45 minute feeding break? Target?
Happy. So very happy. All of us.