11:30 on a Friday night

Nine months and eight weeks ago, my wife and i would be spending our time at 11:30pm on a Friday partying.  now, she is seated next to me while "pumping in style" with medela.  Sammy is already in bed, and is getting ready as I'm typing to wake up in an uncontrollable fit of hunger.  And I'm torn between being supportive to my wife and staying awake with her while her eyes bulge slightly every time the pump's diaphragm contracts and going "all for one", leaving out the second part of the phrase, and passing out.

Sammy just sighed.  the hairs on the back of my neck just froze for a second.  I feel like he can sense that i'm typing about him.  maybe it's just the sleep deprivation though.

This every two hours gig used to be cute.  I'm just excited that he's almost two months, which means he's almost half-way to being legally allowed to be fed semi-solid foods, which will in turn lengthen his sleeping schedule to longer than a time period measurable in blinks.

Though it is super cute to watch him yawn.  besides smiling, yawning is probably the biggest heart melter.

in slightly other news, but still related, every time i think of Schwarzenegger all buffed out and roided up as such:

and his famously and tritely repeated phrase "Pump You Up!" i will forever imagine Arnold strapped with one of these: