Helloooo 30!

My child, she has a schedule and she sticks to it. She will go to sleep for you (most of the time) between 8 and 9pm, but you’d better believe she’s getting you up between 7 and 8am for her morning feeding. And believe me, I feel incredibly lucky that we have reached this point of sleeping through the night without too much trouble at all. But sometimes? Sometimes I think I still have a problem grasping the concept of being responsible for someone else’s every need. Late nights (or early mornings, I guess) were all fine and dandy when I could sleep in on Sunday and spend the entire day napping between laundry loads. They’re a little tougher to justify when there’s not a chance in hell that you will sleep much past 7:30am, and the laundry loads need to be coordinated around someone else’s (basically non-existent) nap schedule, and an almost five month old is looking at you with eyes that say ‘damn it woman, you need to be entertaining for me when I am awake!’

Luckily, I am naturally entertaining. Especially when your idea of entertainment involves lying on the floor and playing with your feet. And when you think I’m so cool that if I’m not holding you, the sound of my voice causes you to whip your head around, looking for the source.







Basically, this is all a longish way of saying that Saturday night, I said good-bye to my 20s in style, although, I’ll admit I’m using the term ‘style’ very, very loosely here. Any night that starts out at a rooftop bar, includes a trip to an Atlanta institution, evokes memories of a scene in Animal House, and ends with a 2am trip to Krystal is all right in my book, even if it means getting by on only four hours of sleep the next day. It’s actually kind of nice to know I can still pull it off sometimes.

Even if sometimes is only once a year now.