PJ

Sometimes I look at my baby, and, even in his fussiest state, feel pretty darn lucky he's mine. I know I'm totally bias, but I really think I have the cutest kid around.

I'm pretty sure the words, "I just love him" leave my mouth at least a hundred times a day, along with, "he's just SO cute." For some reason, I'm still in shock at how cute my baby is. Who knew John and I were capable of creating such a handsome little man?

Sleep training is behind us, somewhat. It's still in the works kind of, but for the most part, we've eliminated the sleep/wake cycle that was driving me up the wall, and it feels like quite the accomplishment. We've also eliminated the bouncing around the room, squats, and plies, just to keep him happy, which is a nice relief to be done with, I was starting to get tired. But, thanks to him, I now have a firm bum and toned thighs, so, perhaps his fussiness hasn't been all that bad. Three months of continuos squats, numerous times a day, is the trick people. And let's face it, there could be worse things to complain about than a fussy baby who, in return, gives me some welcomed definition.