Charlotte Shea is two months and one week old. I don’t even know how that happened. One week she was a tiny little chicken who made me cry 24 hours a day and now she is a chubby little monkey who makes my heart so full of joy that I am certain I will spontaneously combust.  At two months our lives are still pretty much the same as they were at one month, except everything is SO. MUCH. BETTER.  She sleeps 5 hours straight for her first stretch of the night and then sleeps another 3 or so after eating, so I’m consistently getting some good sleep and not looking like Elvira the Witch Princess every day.  She doesn’t really like to nap during the day, but that’s really fine by me if it means she sleeps better at night. She enjoys her $40 bouncy seat over her $250 mamaroo right now, so she’s already learning how to waste money on shit we didn’t need. I’m hoping she starts to like it again when she gets a little bigger, but if not I’m selling that baby spaceship on eBay.  She’s starting to take a pacifier occasionally which means my boobs get to be put away for longer periods of time.  Hip hip hooray!

Oh the smiling.  The smiling KILLS ME. I can’t even take it. She is the happiest around 8 am when she wakes up for the day and everything makes her smile and coo and I just want to die. I can’t even explain how much I love it when she smiles at me. I would literally stand on my head and shoot glitter out of my ass if it made Charlotte smile.  I am one of those moms now…
She has a fussy period every night around 7 when she hates every single person on earth except for me. She screams bloody ass murder unless I’m holding her and I usually need to feed her until she calms down. This can last anywhere from 20 minutes to an hour or more, so thank God I’ve figured out how to nurse laying down.  I love that she finds comfort in me and looks for me to make her feel better, but some nights I really just want to take a shower and relax. I’m sure when she’s older and no longer has these melt downs I will miss them terribly though. 
She’s still spitting up like a vomit geyser and I still can’t eat any dairy (I accidentally ate something with butter in it and that was a nightmare) but now that I know vomit is officially a part of my life it’s easier to deal with.  I really miss cheese though. I want a grilled cheese so bad that sometimes I feel like I’m in a mirage. You know how people die of thirst in the desert and before they die they see pools of imaginary water?  That’s what I’m going through. I sit here and see pools of imaginary grilled cheese sandwiches.  And chicken parm sandwiches. And nachos. And really just sheets of melted cheese that I can lie in like a hammock.  One day we shall meet again. 
I absolutely adore my life as Charlotte’s mama. I still have two more months until I go back to work (that’s another post for another day) and I plan on enjoying every hour of every day that I spend with her.  She is really just the best little girl I could have ever asked for. Vomit queen and all. 

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