I’ve got a 13 month old. Every morning, I get woken up with a combination of a sloppy kiss and a Krav Maga move with a “mamamamamamamama” (roughly translated as “Woman, I may have had you up half the night but it is time for my morning bottle NOW”). I’m a lucky lady; even if some days I look back at my before life, which is seeming more and more of a foggy picture, and think about the lie ins, the not needing to ask someone if I wanted to go somewhere, the random nights out and the unbroken sleep. You may be seeing a theme on the sleep thing. Read More