Until the Magical Suit:
Anna, December 2010
The Magical Suit was the only thing Anna slept in for about four months. Every nap, every night. I don't know if it was the snuggly hood or the swaddling-without-swaddling feel. What I do know is that without the magical suit(s), I would have been sunk.
I thought it was a fluke. A funny story I could tell her potential suitors (when she's allowed to date, which is to say when she is forty. Or so.).
Then I wrote this post last week, about how Aaron was such a good baby. I knew while I was typing it that I was probably jinxing myself, but then I thought, 'Nah. A woman in her thirties doesn't believe in jinxes.'
WRONG. Let's just say that the couple of nights that followed that post were... brutal. So what did I do? I pulled out the magical suit. And...
Yup, my son is wearing a pink magical suit. I dare you to have a problem with that.
This one wasn't quite as magical for Anna. It's magically delicious for Aaron.
A woman in her thirties really shouldn't toot her own horn, but this is an exception. I am sleeping in 3-4 hour chunks at night, and by newborn definition that makes me THE SMARTEST MOTHER ALIVE. Summer, winter, fall, or spring, all babies need a magical suit. Magical suit means magical Mom. And magical Mom is... magical.