Oh My Gosh, the Hair!

Little lady is now 17 weeks old, or three months and four weeks, turning four months on the 31st of this month. I can hardly believe that time has flown by so quickly. She has been my most challenging baby, making it difficult to keep my sanity. She doesn’t have colic or anything of that caliber, fortunately; she just embraces the “Fourth Trimester,” meaning that she refuses to sleep by herself or be put down. I remember my other two being some-what like this and it makes sense, but they would at least give me a few minutes before throwing themselves into an emotional downpour of tears.

I enjoy night time as she has always been amazing during the nighttime period, with the exception of the first week or two where she was up constantly and uncomfortable. We go to bed and she will have a solid 4 or 5 hour sleep, wake up, eat, and go right back to sleep. Like a little angel 🙂


Airplane! Wweeee. Those are my knees… don't worry.

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Little miss is closing in on 15 lbs, has discovered that her hands make great chew toys, and is able to stand upright when we hold her belly. She can roll from her back to her stomach, though she prefers not to. She coos happily, mostly at her dad and older sister. She has recently started making higher pitched noises; not quite squeals.

Since she was a few weeks old, she has had a witching hour(s) in the evening which is still prominent. It goes anywhere from 7pm until 10 or 11pm.

I am still trying to figure out keeping this house kempt while making dinner, groceries, etc.. I’m feeling very outnumbered by the kids and find myself a little resentful that our parenting time with the older kids did not work out for the summer break as I had hoped all year long — that the kids would all be on the same week-on, week-off schedule with their respective parents so that baby and I could get a much needed break from planning every little detail of household management and work on other paper work and things that I should have done.

Instead, my stepson is on some very weird schedule that I am not happy about in the least: Saturday morning or afternoon through Wednesday morning with his mom, home Wednesday until Saturday. That’s 6-8 extra family meals per month I’m left planning, 6-8 extra days of ensuring other people feed themselves while I neglect my own nutritional needs. 6-8 extra days of taxi servicing. 6-8 extra days of household supplies I have to maintain. 6-8 extra days of worrying about another individual… -_- which doesn’t seem like a lot, but when you’re doing all the driving around, shopping, and prepping with a high-needs baby (who, might I add, hates baby carriers) in tow, it is mentally exhausting. Being with a hard working man is amazing and wonderful, but then you realize that they have little left to give by the time they walk through the doors in the evening, physically whittled away and ready for bed.

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