I love lying here in the darkness, staring at her, and watching the rise and fall of her beautiful, milk-filled breasts. Her face looks at rest, but then again, is that a flash of worry I see in that little wrinkle between her brows? Could it be that she is thinking of me and that she misses me? Now I'm worried. Maybe I should wake her up and reassure her that I am right here, should she need me? I think I should do that. She wouldn't mind, would she?

I am merely here to help, and when I see someone in need, I volunteer to rise to the occasion. My mother currently has one boob that is bigger than the other due to our last feeding session when, on a whim, I decided to have a nursing strike. Now, I must go and relieve her large boob filled with too much milk. Sometimes great sacrifices must be made.

Spill in Aisle Five! Spill in Aisle Five! Mom doesn't seem to care that her breast milk (my breast milk!) has leaked all over the bed into a horrible puddle that is slowly creeping towards my cozy (read: most of the bed) part of the bed. If there's one thing I hate, it is sleeping on or near anything moist.

It is quite possible that I am a shallow baby, but if it were me, I would be majorly turned off by this long snore-punctuated-by-a-snort thing that my mom does at night. Did my mom hide this from my other parent until she got them to agree to stay with her forever? Is my other parent here against their will? Where are the handcuffs? There must be handcuffs somewhere. Surely no one would be here of their own free will (except me, but not really, since I am dependent) if they heard the sounds coming out of her mouth when she sleeps.

This doesn't feel good. Nope. Not at all. I should probably let that lady next to me know that it is time to snap out of whatever nice dream she is having about Spring Break in Cabo (or whatever lame things that she did before she had me) and get on diaper duty. Stat.

I can't imagine you went throughout life before I came along in those threadbare pajamas with the bleach stains. Or maybe you did, but listen: I'm new here, which kind of makes me a guest in this house. Would you wear ugly pajamas like that around a house guest? I sure hope not. I mean, you do you, but if that's how you roll I have to say I'm a little upset about the family I've gotten placed into. Doesn't anyone have decency anymore?

You keep handing me this dumb book that makes little crunchy sounds when I grab it, that has dog tails hanging out of the sides (but for some reason is not a book about dogs?) and all I can think is that you have a limited understanding of child development. Lady. I'm not even 1 year old. I can't read. Why are you thinking that handing me this book at 5 a.m. is somehow going to keep me entertained for the next two hours so you can get your beauty sleep? Reality check: beauty sleep was for your 20's. You are now on my time.. So please assume cow position and commence feeding me with your udders, I man, breasts. Thanks.

Also: I see that shiny, bright thing you carry around with you every second of the day and point at me but don't let me chew on, that makes cool noises and changes colors when you touch it. Gimme that. I want that. Just give it to me and I will be quiet for another 20 minutes while you sleep I promise.

Commence freaking out! I should probably play it safe and nurse all night long. Yeah. That's probably the way to go.