The end of Superstar as we know Her

These last six weeks have been busy to say the least.

My beautiful baby is a monster between the hours of 3 am and daylight. His longest stretch of sleep is 2 hours but from 3-7 am he's been waking up hourly. Its enough to break the strongest of wills, which means MMA and I are crumbling like cornbread.

Seriously, sleep fragmentation is our Kryptonite.

I'm ready to give him cereal to "hold him over." But the studies say that it doesn't really help them sleep longer. It has to do with neurological development. What do you parents out there think? Should I spike the milk with a little sumpin-sumpin? I'm desperate. The bags under my eyes are the real thing.

In other news, my beloved Jeep is in the dog house. I loved it, but I'm ready to leave it. A few months ago, it still looked good to me, but with a new baby in the picture, I see it in a whole new light. I don't have time to deal with the kinks and rumbles of an aging car. On Friday I had to pile car seats and babies into a two door sports car because I didn't like the noise the Jeep was making. I'm done with it.

We spent Saturday car shopping. Yuck!

Superstar was not ready to admit that the practicality of a mini van supersedes her self image as a woman with a cooler ride. "BUT, from the inside of a minivan, looking out, they are sweet!" she keeps telling herself.

I'm probably going to be driving a minivan soon. I can't wrap my mind around that. My mojo just went out the window of Caravan, or an Odyssey. Or a Town and Country.