I GRUNT, TURNING OVER. Through bleary eyes, I notice the time.
Three am.
Yep, time to feed the baby, change her diaper, burp her, and put her back to sleep.
Sitting up, I sigh heavily, getting up, my eyes half closed.
Running my hands through my hair, I yawn, stumbling into the kitchen, I get the formula out, making a bottle. Microwaving it, testing it, shaking it, testing it again, I zombie my way into Xena's nursery.
"—I'm sorry, my little warrior. Mommy's not doing a very job of being a Mommy, huh?"
Just like that, I'm up.
There is my wife, holding our daughter in the rocking chair, feeding her.
"Mommy loves you, though. She really does, little one. I've just been feeling down. But I'm getting better, huh?"
Xena finishes her bottle, turning her head away.
Layla wipes Xena's mo
