I get up in the morning and change and dress the baby. Eric leaves while we're engaged in this activity, giving me a quick kiss on the cheek and Sam a pinch on his. When Sam is dressed, I put him in his jumper, hanging from the bathroom doorframe, and take a quick shower.

Make the bed. Make my breakfast; nurse the baby. Play, change a diaper, nurse him to sleep. Quickly, while he naps, get the heaviest part of the day's chores out of the way: scrub the floors, or vacuum them, or reorganize that closet! He wakes, hopefully after more than half an hour has passed.

We play; I do more cleaning. If he's being fussy, we might dance to music on the radio. If he's feeling quiet, we might read some books or watch the guinea pigs. After the cleaning is done, I bundle him into his coat so we can run out and do errands. Around lunchtime, he takes a long nap, and I lie down to rest and read next to him. When he wakes, we go downstairs and I start making the bread for the day.

Now it's late in the afternoon, so I turn on the computer and check my mail. Sam enjoys lying on my lap while I do this, alternately nursing, dozing, and whapping his arm at the keyboard while I'm trying to type. When I'm finished there, it's usually time to start on dinner so that it can be ready by 6:30. Sam sits in his seat and watches me while I cook; I have to leave myself extra time to allow for fuss-filled interruptions.

Eric comes home. We eat and watch a little television. I make Eric's lunch for the next day, finishing as Sam starts to get cranky. Take him upstairs and put him in his pajamas. We all lie down together and relax as Sam nurses to sleep. I follow him soon after.

That's our life. It's not glamorous, but it seems to be working. The house is in much better shape, which lowers the level of stress I feel on a base level. Eric appreciates the nicer environment, so we argue less frequently. Sam seems less fussy, perhaps due to a more structured and predictable routine. (He does have more opportunities to protest the vacuum, though.) All is better around here...but I'm exhausted. I get the feeling that my tiredness isn't so much due to too-high levels of activity as it is to the adjustment. This is new to me, so it will take time for it to fit.

I feel comfortable putting my baby down on the carpet, at any time, without one of his blankets beneath him, though. That alone makes the work all worth it.

I went and got my hair cut over the weekend. I'd been feeling horrible since Halloween, when the woman had told me I looked thirty years old. I don't think it was precisely her comment that had me feeling low; more, it was the fact that her words confirmed the way I'd already begun to feel: old. Tired. Beaten. I hadn't had much chance to tend to myself for ages, and I was already feeling quite sub-par when that lady came along and sucker-punched my ego.

So I decided to get a haircut. I was overdue for one anyway. Eric came with me to care for Sam, and I luxuriated in the salon shampoo. My hairdresser chatted as she got ready to work, and I confided in her as to the reason for my appointment. "I don't really look that old, do I?"

Her eyes opened widely and guiltily. "Well...I thought you were thirty." I moaned inwardly as she continued, "I mean, you act older. I'm twenty-four, and I still like to party and have fun. You can't be close to my age. You know?"

Yes, Princess. I know. Just cut the hair and leave me what's left of my dignity, okay?

So I have new hair, but I feel no better about myself. I took a nice, long, candle-lit, lavender-scented bath last night, though, and I only shared the last bit of it with Sam (selfish Mama!). My shoulders thanked me for it this morning. Perhaps things are on the upswing. My ego may not recover, but I'll live.

And guys? Eric says that if I win, he'll take me out for a steak dinner. Believe me when I tell you that I could use that dinner, even if it's actually a lunch so that Sam's presence doesn't disturb the other diners. (He's a touch young for babysitting, even if he would take a bottle.) Have pity on me, and send me out to eat, please?

Well, just vote, actually. There are tons of great finalists this time around. Heather is up for the Legacy Award, and I can think of no other who deserves it more, considering the numerous projects which owe their beginnings to her. Hey, even if you don't want to vote, go take a gander at the choices! I can think of worse ways to spend an afternoon.