The Morning

Anyone who has breastfed and pumped knows the ending to the phrase "there's no crying over spilled milk."

This morning I woke up to make Silas's bottles for while I was at school, and opened the fridge door to see a cascade of milk dripping from the top shelf of the fridge. Turns out the bag of frozen milk I had thawing had somehow gotten a hole. Not sure how.

Thankfully, it was only four ounces. Even more thankfully, despite the initial impression, it barely made a mess in the fridge, choosing to pool under some of our leftovers containers rather than actually dripping onto food on the lower shelves.

And I didn't cry, exactly. I just threw up my hands in frustration. Of course the milk would spill on the morning that I was running late(r than usual)! I try to remind myself of positives every day, and the morning's positive thought was that Silas snuck in a sleep session from about 11pm to 3am last night, which I'm hoping will trend to better sleeping habits. (The two nights before then, he woke up every. hour.)

So I'm tired and exasperated, but I know that I can do anything as long as it's not forever, and Silas will have to start sleeping somewhat better some day.

Here's to half a year with my favorite baby!