I love being at home.
Home with my peeps. With my babes. It’s my comfort, my place, my safe spot.
I mean, Hello!
I can't stand when people take their babies out all the time after hours for their own enjoyment; "Oh, they can sleep anywhere". Ever wonder why your child is a crabby brat and doesn’t want to wake up in the morning?! On the other hand, occasionally people need to do what works for THEM and change the schedule to suit their own family's needs. I also get that.
It's a delicate balance.
On all this balance stuff, I've been thinking of going on a trip. One that requires a plane ride. With my baby. Is that crazy? Or will it be good to get out and do things and enjoy my time, while still having my little girl by my side? The truth is, I'm not as concerned about shit-losing on Paisley's side as much as I am about mama experiencing some shit-losing. Following me? Right. I even have a wonderful friend who wants to fly together (what?) and help me out. I know. Deal of a lifetime. We'll see what
my mental state is happens.