Grouch-fest

I think someone in the neighbor's house just saw by boob. Or at least part of it. But it's okay because these - things - on my chest can hardly be considered boobs anymore. Much less 'tits' or 'fun bags'. I don't know what they are, or how long the plan to just...hang around, but I'll be glad when they can fit back into my old clothes.

So it's barely past noon, and I've already gone through several onesies because Sebastien keeps yaking milk all over himself. He's been up and grumpy since 4:30 this morning and shows no signs of cheering up for the next ten years. At least his cuteness makes up for his less-than-appetizing bedside manner. But the cuteness is cancelled out by the realization that there are still 12 more hours left in the day.

Ooo he's sleeping. No, he's just blinking for a really long time.