My daily grind.

We've gotten into a routine.

A sleep-deprived, difficult routine. I feel like a professional wrestler, but without (a) the cool leotard; (b) the sleek, toned, oiled body; (c) the fatty fat cash; and (d) the screaming fans. I feel like a wrestler because every night, I come home, and Big Man (so tired I originally typed his real name! gasp!) tags me in as he tags out of baby duty.

He heads upstairs for some sleep, and I'm immediately "on" and in charge of all things domestic and maternal. Before any of you think this is even slightly unfair, it is, and it certainly is, in my favor. I sleep in my bed all night, with only one disturbance from the wee one, while Big Man keeps the streets safe in Schenectady. He comes home after a night of dealing with crack ho's and wife beaters, washes off the bad guy germs and is immediately in charge of a baby due to wake up for the day at any moment. At this time, mommy heads off to work. Big Man, still with no sleep, spends the day nurturing our child, and then prepares dinner, so that it is ready the moment I walk in the door so we can have a meal together before he sleeps. (And, at times I actually am enough of a bitch on wheels to resent that we are eating so early!) He makes sure I have a hot dinner every night, even though that means he gives up another hour of sleep. After dinner, he tags me in and generally sleeps for few hours, and then it's back to the ho's. By the way, in case you were wondering, he says there is no actual such thing as a hooker with a heart of gold. They are, in fact, addicts. (but I digress) And, they don't look like Julia Roberts, either.

So, tomorrow begins the first day of help--Dawn is coming at 10am so Big Man can sleep. A nanny that comes highly recommended, we will be paying her to chill with Dani (and teach her some shizzle, and cut her nails because I'm scared to and the filing is getting harder to do as the baby gets stronger and resists, and well, what good is a care giver if she won't file the baby's nais???) One day per week, Big Man will get to sleep for an undisturbed 5 or 6 hours, which should help with the whole sleep deprivation thing.

I asked him tonight, over the dinner he cooked, whether, if we had unlimited funds, he would pay someone to come to the house every day. He said he thought it was his job, and he was happy to raise his own kid. He flippin' rules. (If we were rich, I'd be all about the nannies....and the personal massage therapists, and pool boys and shiz.)

Dani seems to definitely be teeting. Can't get her to care about the teething rings I bought. Gave her some kiddie tylenol tonight when she was particularly screamy--she had no idea what it was and the grapey goodness was drooled completly out. So, I kept scooping it off her chin and feeding it to her on her finger and she finally figured out that the sugary concoction was tasty, and she ate it and chewed on my finger with her poor little gums.

Anyway, some photos.

(because none of you really care about anything I have to say, just want to ogle or blog-stalk as my friend JHey says, my kid)

Dani, wearing the hat I had as a baby/toddler (which some grandma shrunk in the dryer [wool]):Dani, smiling for Daddy today:

Dani, sitting up like a big girl in her new Bumbo chair (part of the haul from BJs last weekend):

That's all I've got for now.