Hast thou forsaken me, irony?

Oh my god. I just re-read my last three posts and I am seriously in a weird pregnancy hormone induced delirium. What is up with all of this positivity? This optimism? This warped sense of well-being?

I have been firmly entrenched in Tallulahland, blissed out on her lovely, almost-four-year-old honeymoon phase and my own mid-pregnancy delusions of peacefulness. But no worries! Soon I'll be Waddles, the mouth-breathing breeder and Tallulah is doing her part with the initial phase of a guerilla warfare campaign against sleep. The campaign involves hallucinating "in-biz-able" bugs and demanding multiple stuffed animals (which only mommy or daddy can fetch from the shelf despite her ability to scale walls if a forbidden item is placed out of reach) only to find them unsatisfactory.

The looming sleep deprivation bodes well for ending this ghastly episode of Pollyanna-like behavior.