When I first started this blog, I was going to write EVERY SINGLE DAY. I had images of myself, a serenely happy new Mama, nursing my son in my cute little nursing PJ’s, blissfully blogging one-handed, chronicling the first days, weeks and months of my little cub’s life while I sipped chamomile tea and the puppy dozed at my feet… and then little cub actually got here, and I realized the depth of my delusion. My reality goes something more like this – I sit down to nurse for the 6th time in three hours and basically have to use both arms to restrain my wiggling, shrieking son who is STARVING to death, while somehow simultaneously attaching the nipple shield, answering the phone and desperately attempting to eat a bite of the sandwich that I made to the sound of my son’s disbelief that I had been so callous as to actually PUT HIM DOWN. I have not showered in at least a day, I am wearing one of my husband’s old fire department shirts and a pair of his flannel sleep pants because all of MY things are still at least four sizes too small, the dog is banished to the back yard because she, apparently, is an attention pooper, and that sandwich? Yeah, it’s the first thing I’ve had to eat all day. My reality is messy, chaotic and utterly, completely fabulous.