In this corner, weighing 8 pounds and some change, is the Billyburg Brawler, the Nighttime Crawler, Sir Fuss-a-lot, Mister Sleep Not. . .Miles Thomas!
(insert wild cheers)
And in this corner, weighing in at a 6 weeks post-delivery diet of stale pretzels, Halloween candies of yore, and sympathy meals from friends and family alike, the Sleepwalker, the Lactating Loonie, the Sleep Deprived Diva, the Zombie Mama Express. . .Anna Thomas.
(insert polite applause)
I don't think the odds are in my favor.
Miles doesn't want to sleep, ever. I am two blinks away from a blackout. His new found energy is exciting, but he's like a home entertainment center with no volume control or off switch. Moderation is not in the infant vocabulary. Duh!
“Sleep is like the unicorn - it is rumored to exist, but I doubt I will see any."
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