four monthsies

Ridiculous.

Four months?

Just Ridiculous.

But, no matter how hard I try, I just can't seem to stop her from growing up.

My little one is 4 months old {and one day, to be exact, because I know you were wondering}.

In addition to sleeping, pooping, and eating, she now rolls over.

Non-stop.

You can't get her to stay in one place.

And there is a chance she is teething, too.

Oh my heart might explode.

{Which I seriously can't afford right now, on top of the postpartum hair-loss that makes me feel like I need Rogaine and those last few babychubbs that I'm still working on slimming off}.

It has been a great 4 months, however.

The best of my life. 

It makes me want another baby...

Later.

Way later.

Still.

I would totally make it sooner...

Um, but could I get a side order of sleeping-through-the night and no-breastfeeding-woes?

You wouldn't even have to give me mac&cheese-out-of-the-nose-at-2am {or any morning sickness, for that matter} and poopy-blowouts-on-my-new-jeans because, hey, I've already had those, and I'm willing to give them to someone else.

Just because I'm that nice.

Oh. And if you could also skip the my-fluctuating-hormones-make-me-seem-bipolar and holy-stretch-marks-on-my-hips, I would really appreciate it.

Oh, the agony!

Let's not talk about it for another year.

Yes?

All in all, though, I 110% thrilled to give all of my attention to this little one:

Tomorrow she has to brave more shots, but I have to be at work.

That means Tyrel has to daddy-up and hold her while she screams.

Poor Daddy.

I almost feel worse for him than for her because it just punches you in the gut.

To console her, however, she will get her first taste of baby cereal that night.

Seriously?

Oh well.

It will give her some more leg-rolls to kiss on.

And I sure love me some Kemry-leg-rolls!