Yesterday, the Whole Foods deli was my downfall. I thought I was eating like a reasonable human being (no snacks when Cooper ate through the night-- a good first step for me). Then Ben and I grabbed lunch while grocery shopping, and before I knew it, I had eaten an entire chicken, apple, and Gouda panini the size of my face. And for dessert last night I had half a piece of coconut cake. WTH is wrong with me? Then I drank a delicious oatmeal stout beer and a half and went face down in a bag of pretzels. It's like I WANT to be chubby. But I don't, I swear.
I am so not even kidding you when I say the baby doesn't sleep. Last night, he went down at 6:30 like always. Up at 9:30. Up at 1:47. I mean like up, up. Like did not go back to sleep. Like used me like a pacifier and whined a lot. I gave him to Ben at 5 and slept 2 more hours because damn.
He is also making a screeching noise like a dolphin or a cat all the time, and I remember the other kids doing that, too, when they were teething or going through some other developmental mind fuck.
It blows my mind because he slept through the night at such a young age. Clearly, he was just toying with us.
I m not a sleep trainer, more of a bitch-about-the-baby's-sleep-until-it-magically-gets-better-er. Because this too shall pass, I know, and it's a small price to pay for the pleasure of having such a squishy little ball of happiness to nibble on throughout the day. But holy shit am I tired and fat.
Also my scale says I have gained 2 pounds. I blame the salty, salty pretzels before bedtime.