Sleep is overrated

The first night we brought Mason home from the hospital, we set alarms to wake us up every two or three hours so I could feed him. We figured he'd be sound asleep and if we didn't wake him up, he'd starve.

We never had a chance to hear that first alarm go off... and I don't think I've slept for longer than two hours at a time since the night before he was born. Some nights, it's not too bad. He'll wake up, eat for ten or fifteen minutes, and go back to sleep without more than a few little grunts. Then there are the nights that I dread.. the ones where he eats for hours and refuses to go back to sleep no matter what I try. After an hour or two, I'll get him to fall asleep in my arms, but the second his little back touches his bassinet he's screaming again as if putting him in his own bed was the worst thing I could have ever done to him. Usually I'll just hold him and try to sleep sitting up. Sometimes we'll just stay up and cry together.

I remember when waking up for class at eight (or even work at eleven!) was almost impossible... and I miss my sleep. A lot. But I don't miss life without Mason. Yeah, he keeps me up all night and sometimes he pees on me when I take off his diaper, but I feel like the luckiest girl in the world.

Who needs sleep, anyways?

Yeah, being pregnant was easy.

When I was pregnant, I couldn't find anything to wear that fit, so it took an hour to get ready to go anywhere. Now, our morning routine can take three hours or more. This is how our morning went yesterday.. and we were only getting ready to go to Target with my mom:

• I shower, after dragging the bassinet into the bathroom and praying that he'll stay asleep.
• Halfway through my shower, he wakes up. I get out, hair soapy, and hold him 'til he goes back to sleep.
• Finish shower in record time.
• Change diaper.
• Feed Mason.
• Change diaper.
• Inhale a bowl of soggy cereal.
• Give Mason his bath.
• Wrap Mason in towel and leave the bathroom. Lay him on the bed and turn and sprint to grab a diaper.
• Too late. Back to the bathroom to clean him off.
• Change peed on sheets.
• Get him dressed.
• Somehow get myself dressed.
• Feed him again.
• Change diaper.
• Change my shirt and Mason's outfit after both of us are sprinkled with pee.
• Pack diaper bag.
• Buckle him into his car seat.
• Smell something funny.
• Cry a little.
• Take him out of his car seat.
• Change diaper.
• Feed him.
• Back in the car seat.
• Consider calling my mom and cancelling our plans... but by that time she was already in the parking lot.
• Finally make it out the door (did I brush my teeth? I'm still not sure).

And that's nothing compared to the adventures we had at Target.

He's just lucky he's so cute.

Introduction

That was me, 28 days ago, just about the time I had really started to believe I was going to give birth to either a ten-year-old or a litter of puppies. Honestly, I was huge and I was exhausted... and I didn't care what was in there, I just wanted it out. Being pregnant was awful. I know, I know.. it's a beautiful thing: the joy of being a woman, the privledge of being able to bring a new life into this world... and I hated every second of it. From the moment sperm and egg joined forces, I counted down the days until my baby would finally arrive, when the aches and pains would end and when I could finally stop carrying around the extra 63 pounds of baby, placenta, and McDonald's double cheeseburgers.

I'm Megan, and this blog will chronical my life with Mason, who, on May 25th, 2008, came into my world and changed everything.