Not my morning…

So, Sunday’s are my day to sleep in. It’s the deal my husband and I have. I pop out of bed Saturday morning, he gets out Sunday. Seems fair enough, right.

Yeah, not so much. He gets to sleep in until 8:30 or 9. I had a baby stuck on my boob, and when he was done he was patting and talking to my face. I mean, I love waking up to that sweet boy, but really, 7:45 is hardly sleeping in.

I guess it’s more in than the 5am I get up on weekdays.

So this morning, instead of just the baby patting my face and cooing, I’m also covered in baby pee. So it’s not even like I can get up and pass him off. I have to change, I have to put my sheets in the wash. Yeah. Whatever.

Oh well. It’s all part of my mommy job, and who can resist this face?


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