decision made

I'm miserable. we're tired, picking on each other, I'm hungry and it's still winter.

so today we're making moves. it just kinda happened. no decision required, which is probably the only reason it's happening at all.

oqui started cleaning up what is supposed to be the nursery (but is really where the dogs have been sleeping) and pulled back the carpet.

I pulled it back a bit further and before we knew what hit us we were shopping for mobiles, monitors and new NURSERY carpet.

the Prof's moving out.

he's gonna sleep in his own big baby bed, in his own big baby room and oqui won't get the stink eye every time he coughs or his alarm goes off.

baby steps...but it should help.

there's no sugar-coating the fact that this is one difficult baby. noone ever signs up for that. you go into it expecting to be a little sleep deprived and have some bad days. we've been having a bad quarter.

he WILL grow out of this...until that day,though...

we're taking baby steps towards our own sanity. we need to focus just an eeensy weensy bit on ourselves, again, or we're going to end up incarcerated for hacking each other to death.

tonight - his own room.

as soon as he takes a bottle - the switch to formula.

he's been pooping green again. flipping out. screaming in pain every time he eats...

all because I had a quarter of a Nilla wafer (I'm not exaggerating) and some Italian dressing on my salad. who the hell would've thought that italian dressing had milk ingredients in it?

I can't do it anymore. driving me batty. fucking up my chi. too much pressure. not enough strength (or will power, for that matter). I can't keep poisoning my baby.

I'm making it my sole mission in life to get this kid on the bottle...

then I'm having a brownie sundae and getting really REALLY really fucked up.




PS. will post pics (possibly naked) of the drunkeness. promise.