So, obviously, I am not feeling like I am my most fabulous self this week.
The sleep deprivation leaves me short tempered, easily frustrated and less than wonder-mama like. And don’t get me started on the under eye bags and chipped mani. And you know what, if I’m being honest, I have to admit that I sometimes miss just being plain old me. The me who is a relatively good wife and a sometimes really great blogger and a supportive friend and a lover of alone time. Lack of sleep and my tiny infant tyrant have taken over my rational brain and my ability to process anything beyond basic survival. Seriously, if my kid’s schedule wasn’t in a handy app on my phone, I would most likely forget to feed him (until he purple cried, of course). 
As a side note: admitting my day to day failures/flubbs/missteps here on the blog is really a scary thing for me, but I think putting all of this out there might make some of you feel like you’re not the worst ever, so try to hang in there with me, if only to feel better about how you handled your day.
Anyway, I pride myself on really having it all together. I think self sufficiency is an extremely admirable quality and tend to be less than gracious when I feel that someone is struggling to handle their business on their own. But I reached a point yesterday where I just had to reach out to my village. 
Behold, the actual text exchange between me and our dear friend Jaime:

(Macie is our dog, and the kick was loving) 
In all honesty, G was being a real doll. 
He was smiling and giggling and kicking away on his play mat, but the previous night had taken the life out of me. We had a baby with tummy troubles, a dog with the exact opposite tummy troubles that required multiple clean ups at all hours of the night and an early morning home inspection through our relocation company (which was, of course, during “nap time”). And then Justin’s car wouldn’t start. We were exhausted, overwhelmed and stressed. We snapped at each other and at our dog and baby – all needlessly and unprovoked. I wasn’t being my best self and knew I needed to step away to clear my mind. For perhaps the first time in my life, I reached out and admitted that I needed help. 
Being a mom is slowly making me a better human. It has nothing to do with my capacity to love or my reserve of patience, but instead with my ability to humble myself and ask for help so that I can do better – be better. The moment Jaime walked in my door, I made a break for it. I took my one mama hour and went to Target. Not to wander the aisles and spend on myself but to buy dog food, baby rice cereal and dinner for my husband (and, obviously, wine for myself). I would have loved a pedicure, but settled for a red Starbucks cup and a shopping cart sans a car seat. 

Just one hour.
One hour and this photo and I was a better girl. A better me. 
Don’t get me wrong, I didn’t come home and bake brownies or steam clean my hardwoods, but I was grateful to see my baby and had a plan for dinner. 
And some days, that’s all a girl could ask for. 
P.S. My village is lead by these two, who kept me afloat while my husband was working in Europe for 8 days. 

They never ask for credit or tell me not to bring my screaming baby to them at 5:30 in the morning.
I am nominating them for grandparent sainthood.