Irony isn't just someone who is being ironed.....

Ah irony. The sweet voice of fate giving you the finger. Kinsey is learning how to be ironic at a very young age. Too young, I think.

Take this week. My first week back at work. I was hoping to not be achingly tired. So Kinsey decides on Sunday night to have possibly the worst night. She was up 3 times, and then up at 5:30. I thought I would bring her into the bed and nurse her. But "Chomps" made it very uncomfortable for me. Those huge top teeth are digging into me in a very tender area. It's about as comfortable as an "au natural" c-section. So I ended the nursing session. To which she let out an ear piercing screech that signalled our sleep was officially over. Before 6 a.m. Ditto Tuesday, except she only woke up once in the night (which you might think would mean more sleep for me). I drove to work on Tuesday half asleep, and decided part way through the day, as I tried desperately to keep my eyes open, that I was not going to work on Wednesday. I've been at work for 2 days and already called in sick. I'm SUCH a trooper, huh?

Kinsey was basically a crankpot all Tuesday evening, and nursing was turning into an experiment in pain tolerance. I was pretty convinced that our nursing relationship was officially over. I refused to nurse her to sleep and gave her a bottle instead. I spent a good part of the evening mourning the end of nursing. I was prepared for a terrible night. But here's where the irony comes in. Little Monkey May slept all the way through the night (7:30 - 6:45). But on the day when I DON'T have to go to work. I think she's trying to drive me crazy!! And nursing was fine when she woke up.

I think children are innately designed to make their mothers mental. You've gotta love them.