No sleep till Brooklyn

How can I be so tired? I nursed Millie last night lying down and we both fell asleep at 8:30. She only got up to eat at 11 and 2 and then started stirring at 3:30 and we both kind of drifted from then until 6:30. I held her for a while to calm her tummy, but slept, actually slept, to the point of dreaming for a good 5 hours combined. I dreamed that I was in a hotel carrying baggage, trying to find my room, to no avail. I passed a wedding reception, people eating fruit salad that I thought looked tasty, elevators that I couldn't get to work. I finally found my room and it still had someone else's dirty towels and sheets. Freud, I'd like a reading on that one. God, did I spell Freud right? It does not look even close to correct.

We went to downtown Manchester's holiday celebration today with some friends and their kids. It was nice to talk to other adults, besides each other, of course. Millie, in her brilliance, slept through the opportunity to sit on Santa's lap. She's her mama's kid. The santa wasn't the creepy mall-Santa pedophile I anticipated, but we still didn't feel like waking her up, taking her out of the Bjorn and plunking a 2.5 month old down on a stranger's lap. Me, who has a fit when random strangers feel the need to touch her without permission. No, thanks. Maybe some other time. Or not. Tomorrow we go tree shopping in southeastern Connecticut with Iain's sister and her son, boyfriend and his daughter. I love Christmas.