8:30 in the morning, I was awoken by the baby’s crying. I tried everything to get her to go back to sleep, including heating a bottle for the first time. The problem with that is that it takes so long, and the baby eventually falls back asleep, hungry and malnourished.

Musette wasn’t having any of it though. I was reawoken to a mighty wailing as she furiously smacked the baby’s back, trying to beat the demon out of the situation. Seeing that I was back awake, she deposited the baby back into my arms and fell back asleep.

I was so mad. I’m the one who’s going back to work. My six weeks off are coming to a close. My one hope though is that Musette and I will stop fighting so much once I’m not home so often. But the baby can take a bottle now, so who knows what might happen. Maybe Musette will want to go back to work. She’s the one who we spent all that money on to go to culinary school. She’s the reason we moved to New York.

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Posted in Lit

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