A photo and a train of thought

(photo) Read the shirt, dammit!

The phrase "you are not the boss of me" no longer applies in this household.
My day develops around his schedule, and my activities are subject to his whims. To this I say "whee". The newest development is the screaming (with the red face and forgetting to breathe) before falling into a comatose-like slumber. I've taken this as further evidence that he is his father's son; as Aaron once said to me " If I didn't have to sleep, I wouldn't".
Not me, dude.
I love sleep. I'd sleep for 10 hours a night if you'd let me. I sleep now whenever the opportunity arises, and it's not nearly as delicious as sleeping in one giant chunk. Love the sleep. I believe that the work day should start at 10am so that nobody has to get out of bed before 8, if they don't want to. Mmm, sleep.
Napping with the little man is touch-and-go. If he awakens to find me sleeping, I get an earful of his outrage. So now, not only am I sleeping less, I'm sleeping lighter--the tiniest sounds of stirring from him and I am awake! and on the job!
These are the "joys" of motherhood that everyone mentions but you don't fully understand 'em until you're here. Feeling like a mom is synonymous with being exhausted, in dire need of a shower, and eating foods that can be prepared and consumed one-handed.
Here is where I publicly applaud all single mothers. (applause)
I don't know how you do it.