Tired

I "love" how my son can pass out in my arms but when I put him down somewhere to sleep he's a screaming mess. Love is loosely used here, cause it's a bittersweet feeling. One half of me is happy he's so attached to me and the other is pissed off that I'll never get any sleep and my house will always be a pigsty.

Some nights Davin sleeps till 4am, others he won't quit crying for the life of him. I don't think I'll miss this stage of life, not by a long shot.