As we adjust to the new normal at Chez Viper, our schedules are starting feel more routine. Although yesterday's attempt at a new nighttime feeding regimen blew up in our face, this morning the switch went off without a hitch.
The Little Man slept through to 6 a.m., downed his bottle with no troubles, and he was back in his cradle by 6:25. I found myself with some extra time to accomplish things before work. Running, however, was not among those things.
Instead, I chose to lock myself in the basement to play my fiddle for a half hour, then I did my Pull-ups/Push-ups/Planks (P Power!) workout, then I threw a load of laundry in the washer, then I did the dishes, then I walked the dog, then I left for work, and then I spent the next 90 minutes stuck in traffic. Stupid car wreck.
So much for my plan to do more in the morning and make it to the office on time.
It seems like it's been forever since there's been a Flashback Friday, and indeed the last one was a month and a half ago, in the heady days of late summer's pre-baby naivete, when the most important question on my mind was when could I run with my son in the stroller I bought from a coworker, when instead now the question is much simpler: When will I run again?
Wherein we revel in congratulatory messages, where commentators know photos of my son will appear sooner than I think, and life as I knew it is over.
Xenia has already targeted her next cyber stalking victim: "Don't feel the need to post photos. That kid will be posting his own selfies on the interwebs sooner than you think."
Ironman by Thirty sees Miley Cyrus as an inspiration for today's youth: "No worries on the pic. I'll just wait for the twerking video."
Nitmos, as always, is just kind of a jerk: "Congratulations, your life is over."
Happy Hour is nearly upon you, teammates! Run well and drink well. Cheers!