Regardless of the fact that Poet sleeps really well at night, I'm still tired. If I do go out for a few hours I feel extra weary that night. It still astounds me that we live in a world where mumas are expected to get up and go, every day. I'm so thankful that I didn't feel the need to do that, wasn't inclined to race out of the house when she was oh so small. I'm still taking each day as it comes, still going with the flow. During the day she feeds, and feeds, and has a little more milk just in case. I forgot how much a newborn feeds. But gosh it feels good to know her chubby cheeks and little thigh rolls are made from the best food she'll ever have. Hooray for breastfeeding and all that milky goodness (and precious, oh-so-special bonding time).
With this warm spring sunshine that has all-of-a-sudden arrived there's the thought of mornings at the beach, lazy afternoons in the hammock and mango smoothies.
I'm tired, but I'm happy.
And, Daniel took these photos. I haven't quite worked out how to hold a camera while wearing Poet in the sling.