Make believe.

There's one benefit to formula-feeding that I have yet to take advantage of. Passing off nighttime feedings to Daddy. The other night I was suffering from a rather bad cough and downed a tablespoonful of a medicine of the knock-you-out-till-morning variety. Tim volunteered to wake up with baby, recognizing my need for sleep and perhaps an inability to wake up. Eve was kind that night, not stirring until almost 6 a.m. but when she finally started crying for food, it was, that's right, ME, who awoke to satisfy her needs. Twenty minutes later, Tim stirred and asked me if he could take over. I responded, "You're about 20 minutes too late." (without the slightest hint of resentment in my tone, of course!)
I took the same medication the following night, fully expecting the same experience but surprisingly found my husband had beaten me to the punch. He fed her, and while he did, I tossed and turned, wishing that it was me. Sure, I like my sleep as much as the next person, and I enjoy the freedom of knowing that someone else is capable of feeding my child when necessary. But sometimes I still like to "pretend" I'm nursing. I need the excuse to hold my baby and say no to everything else for those 20 minutes. You need a lap to sit on? Too bad, I'm feeding the baby. Spilled milk? Clean it up yourself, baby needs to eat. You catch my drift...
Not to mention - she's just so edible - why would I want to get something done when I can cuddle with her to my heart's content? So as much as I don't miss the inconvenience of having someone attached to me for an entire year, I... miss the inconvenience of having someone attached to me for an entire year. So sleep away, Tim, and I'll keep pretending.