Wito’s fever broke last evening and we put him down at 7:00 pm.

My 9-hour-sleep-stretch-for-weeks-on-end perfect sleeping angel proceeded to wake up at:

9:30 pm
10:30 pm
11:30 pm
12:30 am
3:30 am
4:30 am
5:20 am

It is currently 6:18 am and he’s still awake.

Completely typical that this happens the night before my mother arrives from Oklahoma. She’ll be here in 8 hours and we have a disgustingly dirty house, a baby on cocaine and absolutely no sleep.

What the fuck.

I’m down in the dumps today. Wito just isn’t himself from those damn vaccinations yesterday. He literally slept the entire day, only waking up to eat, and his eyes don’t have their usual sparkle.

I thought for certain he would be up all last night resulting from all of his sleep yesterday, but nope, he slept his normal 9-10 hours before waking up. He’s an angel baby! A complete angel baby, so here I sit, feeling downright miserable and guilty that I allowed those nasty viruses to be injected into his sweet chubby legs.

And the worst part? It’s not like he’s driving me crazy with fussy behavior or crying at ear-piercing decibels. He just looks sad. Plain sad. And I don’t know what to do about it.

WAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHH. My heart hurts.

We just returned from Wito’s 10-week checkup, where he had the immense pleasure of receiving 2 shots in each thigh. Because truly, why just one shot when you can drive another needle into the same painful locale? Brilliant!

Can you tell I’m a new parent? Bitter! Bitter, I tell you. Of course, Wito feels great. He cried for about 30 seconds and went back to blowing raspberries. I, on the other hand, pulled a total Rainman- pacing back and forth while repeating “Mama’s here, mama’s here…” on and on and INFINITELY on.

Pacing aside, our pediatrician confirmed what I already knew. Wito is huge (90th percentile for height and 70th percentile for weight). The nurse walked into the exam room and proclaimed “Now, THAT’S a healthy horse!” Uh-huh. Yeah. Big boy.

However, we can’t really figure out why. I guess D and I are both on the tall side of average, but nothing too crazy, and we both are pretty slight. It must be my impressive milk factory rack (patting my own back- take THAT, mastitis). Who knows where that buddha belly came from, but I love it. I think I might eat it with some fava beans this evening. Tasty.

Beyond the big and the happy, Wito might be under the assumption that he’s a werewolf living with his crazy werewolf mother.

Exhibit A (No, you did not eat crazy mushrooms. It’s the video):