Of all the crazy things I’ve tried to do in my life, blogging every day this month while my six-month-old teethes is right up there.
I can barely form a sentence with my mouthparts, never mind write things down and have them make sense to a person who’s used to getting more than two hours of sleep at a stretch.
On the other hand, I can really use the outlet. I’ve been promising myself that I’ll spend more time with real people and less time online, but I tend to make that promise when the baby accidentally forgets to wake me up every 45 minutes all night long. In reality, talking to internet friends is about as much as I can expect from myself, given that it’s actually dangerous for me to operate heavy machinery at this point. I’m not sure it’s wise for me to drive to a friend’s house to see them in person.
Last night, Baboo woke up every 45 minutes unless she was sleeping on me. Ordinarily, I might try to catch a guilty nap in the chair while holding her, but she was committed to lying with her head hanging waaay out over the armrest, and I just didn’t dare. So I really have no idea if I’m writing actual human words at this point. Apologies if it’s just a keyboard smash and a loop of sobbing (mine).