Mia (Me-ah, not My-ah for those wondering) lost her crusty stump today, er, yesterday I guess, and now has a big girl belly button. We will pretend that there is no chance that mommy ripped the crusty stump off prematurely during bathtime. We just ate for an hour and I think my nipple may actually fall off onto the floor and I will be forced to put it in my pocket for next time, and now we are rocking and rocking thanks to a predisposition to spit-up over the last few days that makes Mia refuse to lie down until she is fully unconscious. I pass the time by singing to her from my vast catalog of Simon and Garfunkel songs. I sing "Feelin' Groovy" a lot, because even though I haven't slept more than an hour at a stretch in two weeks and my boobs feel like they are on fire and half my wardrobe is covered in baby puke or crusty stump goo and I have set several land speed records for cramming food down my throat before the baby realizes that she is not the absolute center of attention and cries until that situation is rectified, despite all that the last line still sums up how I am feeling lately.
Life, I love you. All is groovy.