The Muffin Man turned five months old yesterday. I honestly can't believe it, mostly because last night he had me up every hour and a half, as if he wanted to remind me just how hellish it was when he was a newborn. I feel like I've really accomplished something in that I've managed to keep the little man alive and unharmed, notwithstanding my Mothering mistakes. The months have flown by, despite the fact that each day feels like a never ending cycle of poop and exhaustion. Seeing Noah grow and change is pretty cool. He has a real personality now and he's so incredibly alert and responsive, that it's actually kind of fun hanging out with him (especially when I'm well-rested). One of the things that's so hard about Motherhood is that as soon as you think you have it figured out the baby goes through some sort of developmental milestone and you have to start over again. Just when the Muffin Man was starting to sleep through the night and I felt like a human again, he also began to roll over on to his stomach, which causes him to wake up screaming. I know in a few weeks he'll figure out how to roll from his tummy to his back and stop waking me up, but chances are this will coincide with the start of feeding him actual food, so I can only assume I have quite a few sleepless nights in my future. I'm sure someday I'll look back on this time on my life and wish that Noah was still little and sweet instead of large and smelly, but it's hard to imagine feeling nostalgic for being exhausted.
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