Luck of the Irish

I'm not going to lie, I'm tired. I'm not talking normal being a mom tired. I'm talking up-all-night-with-a-brand-new-baby-that-won't-sleep tired. The kind of tired that only comes when you sleep for no more than 3 hours at at time at night, but that span of three hours only happens once and the rest of the time you're definitely up more than you're asleep. Kate has not been sleeping very well at all lately since she's been so sick (we finally went to the doctor and she has Bronchilitis). Wonderful Adam let me sleep from 11-2 last night which was the most sleep that I had put together in about a week. But from 2 on I really don't know if I slept for more than an hour or so total because Kate would just not sleep no matter what I did. So after getting up, getting ready (once again, no running this morning), and eating breakfast we all come downstairs and I sit down to have some me time on the computer. I hear the phone ring, so I set Kate down, run upstairs to get it and when I get downstairs this is what I find:


Yes, in the 45 seconds that I was upstairs she had fallen asleep and hasn't even stirred since despite Cambri's best efforts to wake her up. I tried so hard last night and this morning to get her to sleep and nothing. Then I leave her alone and she's out in a second. I'd call it the luck of the Irish, but I'm not Irish so you figure it out.