Sleep training is not nearly as relaxing as the name implies. In fact, it is f'ing exhausting. And our baby sleeps through the night, we just struggle with naps. I can't imagine having one that wakes up every two hours at night.
Sometimes, if I look at Eamon for too long, he starts to remind me of any one of the bald cebrities I can think of: that guy on "Lost," Telly Sevalis, Pat Morita, Howie Mandel, Mr. Clean, Sinead O'Connor, the dude from Midnight Oil...the list goes on.
I'm tempted to join a moms' group, or at least take a mom/baby class of some sort. I find that by the week's end, if I didn't get out of the house enough beyond the usual errands, I really need a break. I have friends who have babies and young kids, but most of them work at least part time so it's hard to get together. There's a class at our community center, but do I really want to pay $140 to have someone tell my baby about different types of flowers and -- yes, this is really advertised as a feature of the class -- sprinkle water on my baby's feet?
Eamon has a huge smile (see photo), and he loves to laugh. He cracks up when I change his onesie, for God's sake. So it's funny to me when he's straight faced but just looking around in his car seat at, say, the grocery store and the checkout clerk says, "What a happy baby!" Eamon and I exchange a look, like, "you don't know the half of it, lady."
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