Six thirty: I begged my husband to take her and let me keep sleeping. And they gave me two more blissful hours. During that time he: changed a poopy diaper, did a mountain of dishes, fed the baby and got her down for her first nap.
Three thirty: I went to the store by myself. I talked to my mom without tiny hands reaching for the phone. And without a not-so-tiny voice vying for my attention.
Seven thirty: My husband put the baby to bed.
Today, I'm purely decorative.
1 comment:
Sounds like a blissful reprieve. And what a cute picture!
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