I made it back downstairs for the kid’s next feeding, and Steve was on the phone with his mother. The conversation went something like this…
Steve: (semi-joking, I think) I’d love to go downstairs and play Call of Duty, but I don’t know if Tara will let me.
Steve’s mom: Something, something, something, you each need to have time for your hobbies (obviously, she was on the phone, and I couldn’t hear exactly what was said, but I assume it was something like that).
Steve: Tara, we both need to have a chance to enjoy our hobbies.
Me: I don’t have time for hobbies anymore.
Steve: But I’ve had the baby all morning.
Me: LAUNDRY DOES NOT COUNT AS A HOBBY!!!!!
And I walked off muttering obscenities under my breath.
Kidding! Actually, since I am a fantastic wife (and since I’d left Steve the day before for several hours while I went to a Notre Dame women’s lunch), I took the baby, and he got to go play his game. And everyone was happy. Except for the people he beat on Call of Duty. But they don’t really count.
On a baby related note, since that’s what this is all supposed to be about, Brigid went down last night around 9:15 and didn’t get up until around 7:30 this morning. Woo! I just hope she’s not lulling us into a false sense of security, only to turn on us when we’re least expecting it. I hear kids are sneaky like that. Anyway, we’ve been trying to transition her to an earlier bedtime (she has been going to bed around 10:30 or 11) by moving her from 4 ½ ounce bottles six times a day to almost 6 ounce bottles five times a day. Her final feeding is now earlier in the evening, leading into the earlier bedtime. Last night was our first attempt, so we’ll see if this holds up over time. I’m so used to putting her down and then going straight to bed myself that I don’t know what I’ll do with some baby-free time in the evenings.
Maybe this will give me a chance to re-develop a hobby or two outside of laundry...
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