I haven’t died. There is an ie credibly adorable little girl snuggling on my chest or in my arms. She makes it difficult to do things. Things like type or cook food or fold laundry. We have not made it into the blessed land of routines yet. We are simply in the can’t spoil a baby and can’t force a routine stage. As much as I would like to sit her down and clean for a few hours? I know I’m going to miss the snugglebunny, falling asleep on my chest phase. She’s perfect and growing and angelic and I’m going to try and enjoy her as much as possible.
Where I’ve been