Just very, very tired. Deliriously tired. And hungry. This is what happens when a very demanding bébé leaves you just enough free time to make gut wrenching decisions like “should I sleep for 20 minutes or eat lunch?” or “should I risk moving my nearly blood-drained arm and wake the baby? or just suck it up because who needs a left arm anyway?”
The good news is that I have found a few minutes here and there to drink several glasses of wine and eat about 2 tons of stinky cheese. And there’s champagne chilling in the fridge. I’m hoping that next week I’ll be able to gradually reintroduce blogging into my schedule, because I really can’t wait to tell you about L’Accouchement: Part Deux, all the crazy comments we get from friendly French strangers, the pediatrician named Dr. Lovejoy, trying to speak French when you don’t even know what day it is and a very special something called a nipple crevasse.
Ok. Maybe I’ll spare you the details of that last one. But plenty of good blog material is piling up here, and I vow to write about it. Someday. Soon. I hope. Zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz
In the meantime, I wanted to share this amazing essay that pretty much sums up beautifully what’s going on over here chez nous. Enjoy and à bientot!