Oh, my heart was broken last week.  Broken by the sight of those dogs.

I don’t know if you went to that website, or if you looked at the series of photos titled Discarded, but I did.

Allan was a little frustrated with me, I think.  Why do you look at those things?

I guess it’s kind of like a fear.  You have to conquer a fear to get over it, right?  In a way, I think I needed to look at those images to stop being so afraid of it, to stop being so affected by it.

I need to accept that this happens.  It happens and it shouldn’t.  It happens and it’s terribly sad.  It happens and there are people out there doing their very best to make it stop, but it still happens.  And it’s out of my control.

Looking at the images of those dogs being euthanized hurt me down to the bottom of my soul – I swear – but it’s the thing I’m most afraid of as far as my love of animals is concerned.  And I saw it.  I looked at it.  I cried and I cried, but I also hope that, in a way, I made my skin a little thicker.

I stumbled across these and, all morning, have been sneaking into the bathroom to cry.

This is my state.  These are the animals in my state.

Whoever reads this, if you want a dog, please, please, please rescue.  Please.

My heart is physically hurting.

It’s been a bad day.  For a myriad of reasons, it’s been a bad day.

I keep repeating this to myself:

God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change,
The courage to change the things I can,
And wisdom to know the difference.

Charlotte used to be the best Sleeper of all the Sleepers in the Land of the Sleepy Sleepers.

But not so much anymore.

She’s still a rock star – goes to bed promptly at 7:30 without a peep (well, she peeps a lot on the way to bed because she’s. so. tired.) and wakes up with gigantic, toothless smiles plastered across her sweet face.

It’s the in-between we’re struggling with.  Not even struggling, really.  We’re having some annoyances.  Some minor issues.

We recently transitioned her from her Rock n Play sleeper – which is basically the best thing EVER in the world of baby gear – and into her crib.

The RNP is inverted.  It creates a sort of cocoon-like space for her.  She loved it.  We loved it.  Yay!

Except she can’t stay in there forever.  She’ll outgrow it, number one.  And number two, she’ll outgrow it.

So we transitioned her to her crib.  Her big, wide-open, FLAT crib.

She used to go to sleep at 7:30, sleep 9-11 hours, eat, then go back to sleep.  We’d get ourselves ready in the morning, then wake her up (gummy smiles!) and shuffle off to work/daycare.

Now she sleeps about five hours, eats, goes back to sleep for about four hours, eats, goes back to sleep for about two or three hours, wakes up with smiles… while we’re trying to get ready for work.

You guys, the twice-per-night feedings are hard.  They suck.  Pre-crib, we hadn’t been up twice a night since she was about six weeks old.  She’s just not used to the crib yet.  I keep telling myself that the twice-nightly feedings will end, and she’ll go back to her dreamland marathons.  It hasn’t even been two full weeks since the transition.

But I’m not patient.  I want it to happen NOW.

And in case you’re wondering about the logistics of all this – no, I’m not the only one who gets up with her.  Allan does, too.  We alternate weeks.  The passing of the monitor is a big event in our house.  Big, happy event for some.  Big, dreaded event for others.