Let me paint a picture for you.

Baby is tired. Baby is fighting sleep off like if it's a chupacabra wielding mace and brussel sprouts.  She is probably also hungry, but is too tired to eat. I hold her in my arms. She squirms and kicks and cries. She needs to sleep. But she refuses.

Finally, after an hour and a half of fussiness.... finally, she can no longer resist... and she nods off. Yesss! Victory! Chupacabra with mace and brussel sprouts has won!

I carry her to my room to lay her in my bed, where she is most likely to stay asleep. Crap. There is a ton of clean laundry on my bed. I have to move the clothes and pull the covers back while holding the sleeping baby.

With my leg, I try to kick the laundry off the bed. I overextend, and land halfway on the bed in an awkward splits position, one leg still sort of on the ground and one leg across the bed. Ok, that hurts. Baby check. Whew, she's still asleep. Now how do I get up?

Squirm. Wiggle wiggle. Shift. Slide. I am up again. Laundry is mostly out of the way now. Time to pull the covers back. I semi-crouch, still cradling baby. Using the hand that is cradling her upper half, I desperately grasp the comforter with two fingers and slowly manage to pull it back. A bead of sweat forms on my brow. Dang it, I just showered this morning!

I lay baby down on my bed, pause with my arms still around her to let her settle, and then slowly withdraw. She has stayed asleep through all my awkwardness.

My trials and tribulations are over for the next hour at least. Thank God it's Friday, because tomorrow is Saturday, and mama gets a break!


  1. You crack me up! I saw you... fighting with the clothes, the comforter, your legs AND trying to keep the baby in one piece and in the same position. hahahaha!!!!

  2. AMEN! Momma gets a BREAK! :) You should have titled this Mom Ninja.


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