Homeless

Some nights feel like battle zones. Last night wasn't one of them, my little one let her bright eyes get some much-needed sleep. But two nights ago?? Hooooboy! It was a bit of a doozy.

When sunshine fills my bedroom after those long fight-filled nights and the babe grunts and gives out the periodic lone Waaa! (but only one. It's like she's saying "Hey! I'm getting a little peckish!") I look over the side of her bassinet and see a baby that looks completely homeless.

Crusty milk is dried not only around her mouth, but down her neck and in her eyebrows. Her left eye-- which has been crusty since the first day out of the womb--is sporting three of the largest, greenest eye boogers known to man. And the Karo syrup that held on yesterday's bow didn't get washed off completely so a sticky smear graces the top of her head. Evidence of nighttime's war.

I have to laugh as I ask her "Where is your mama?!