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Let’s hear it for oatmeal, yo. (Also: peas and sweet potatoes. Oh! And prunes. Let us not forget the prunes.)

Hello, hello, Internets! Hope these past, erm, let’s-call-them “many’ months have found you well, and that 2013 is going splendidly for everybody.

Wow. I’m going to have to congratulate myself this time, for though I have taken breaks from blogging here and there in the past, I’ve never treated myself to a whopping four-plus months off. Then again, I didn’t ever before have a blog and a newborn at the same time, and I’m here to tell you that it’s not a combination I recommend.

To be fair, if you get yourselves one of those newborns who actually sleeps, then a blog is probably a fine idea. Actually, I read a few blogs where the mothers are beautifully balancing life and baby, so I know it’s possible and I also know I need to get my hands on their vitamins, stat. I triple know that it would help to have a husband who can get home from work earlier than 7:00 p.m., parents who live nearby, siblings to beg for babysitting, or, heck, an extended family larger than three people. But I knew all this going in, too, so it is what it is and I’ll make Jax support me from a young age in my stunningly lavish retirement for years so there. (Quick preview: Reallly expensive cabana boys who like to make chocolate-chip cookies often and from scratch.)

Things in the no-sleep department have finally begun to improve, mainly due to the Magic That is Baby Oatmeal and Various Purees, but it was bad there for a while.

first time in high chair

Actually, it was good, because there was a lot of this:

bowling with infants

To put a fine point on it, it was wonderful and cuddly and rolly-thighish and sibling-bondingish, but it wasn’t fun. From late July on, it was night after night of at least six or seven wake-ups and nursing an average of 10-12 times per 24-hour period.

But! Good news! I have not walked into a wall (much) in three weeks and I no longer am putting the dirty clothes into the dryer and the wet clothes back into the washer. I do keep putting on my right blinker instead of my left, but I maintain that this is a vast improvement, though the parking scuffle in the Target parking lot the other day would say different. (Related: NEVER trust the elderly.)

Anyway, I’m back. I miss blogging and I miss writing and I miss most everything besides spit-up. I miss you guys. No more of this disappearing thing. I mean, just LOOK at what it’s doing to the baby.

baby bald spot

Shh. Don’t tell him. He’s exactly the kind of kid who will stay up all night over a bald spot.

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