Nap Crap

There's no schedule around this house. Madelynn eats when she's hungry, sleeps when she's tired, and pretty much chews on whatever she wants, whenever she wants. It just works for us. Most of the time.

Today, we had a pretty busy morning, I was doing laundry and Mads was helping me chew on fold clothes. With all that busy work, putting her to sleep for her first nap was a breeze. I rocked maybe three times and she was out, so out I was able to deposit her in her crib with no problem. I chose this nap time to do some cleaning, thinking I would use the next one to shower and get ready for work. So play, play, play, and fast forward to three hours later. This baby is just now starting to show signs of being sleepy, so I take to the glider and rock, rock, rock. Nope. She just wasn't ready. Back to the floor, I throw a couple toys at her head, and thirty seconds later she's ready to sleep. To the rocking chair. I'm rocking and rocking and her eyes are just fluttering and fluttering. Twenty minutes later. Half hour later. I keep doing clock checks and I realize I'm running out of time.

It's times like these when I hate am totally jealous of the mothers on Babycenter that are always writing about how they can just throw their kid in the crib, walk away, and the baby will just go to sleep on their own and stay that way for two hours. Yeah right. These women are either full of shit, or they're sedating their child five minutes before nap time.

So anyways, I'm getting a little flustered when finally Mads' eyes close and it appears that they're going to stay that way. Stop rock. Flutter. Rock! Rocking, rocking, asleep. Stop rock. Still asleep. Stand. Oh shit. Grunt, fuss, flail. I'm just a little perturbed by now and I'm ready to try something new. Plus, the glider cushion has permanently indented to show just how big my ass is after this pregnancy, and I don't want that proof just sitting in my living room. I had just read this morning about the "pat method" and I was willing to try it so that I could go to work without an offending odor. So I take Madelynn to her crib, lay her on her stomach, and start pounding her on the back at one second intervals. The instructions said to pat hard enough for her little head to bobble, so I up the pounds and watch her head jiggle. This is the dumbest thing ever. But wait, it's working! Mady's eyes close and I slow the pat. PAT..PAT..PAT..PAt..Pat..pat..pat..pat................

My arm is tired, it's another twenty minutes later, but this baby is finally asleep. I do a little happy dance by her crib before I silently tip-toe out of the room. I haven't even made it to the bathroom before I hear !!BANG!! The guy downstairs has just shot a rocket launcher from his living room to his kitchen and now pots and pans are flying through the air and pounding off his ceiling! Actually, I don't know what the hell he was doing, but the thud was loud enough to shake my whole apartment. I had just long enough to hope that he lost both arms in the explosion when I hear, "wah..wah..WAHHHH!!"

So here I sit, unshowered, with Madelynn hoovered to my chest, fast asleep. I can't yank her off because it wakes her up and then the grunts start. I'm probably going to have to buy a new glider cushion.

I hate all of my neighbors.

It's a Don't

Yet another 'hair don't' brought to you courtesy of Nap Time Photography:

Only Mads could make something so bad, look so damn good.

In Case You Were Wondering...

It costs exactly $222 to pee in a bush. Cleaner than a public potty, but definitely a detriment to the size of your wallet.

Please, I beg you, just find a bathroom.

---

Me: Mum, I have to tell you something. Friday night while Jeffrey and I were out, I peed in a bush.

Mum: [giggle]

Me: Mum, wait, there's more, don't laugh yet. I got a citation.

Mum: HAHAHAHAH!!!! Now that's really funny!! Wait 'til I tell your father!

Me: Thanks, Mum.

---

A couple people at work have been calling me "The Pee-er." Oh the glamour.

Rant

I live on the top floor, and right next door to me there are about seventeen teenagers living in a three bedroom apartment. They're loud, they throw cigarette butts on my doormat, they stomp up and down those damn wooden stairs like they're trying to stomp the fuck out of a colony of cockroaches or something. They throw parties on Monday nights, have vomit gatherings in their master bathroom (which is a small ass bathroom by the way), and scream at their gigundous barking dog 22 hours a day. I can live with all of this. Hey, I'm not like old or anything! What really, really bothers me, is their use of the parking lot. You only get one main space at these apartments, you get one permit for one car to park right in front of the building, and any other car has to park a mere 20 feet away in visitor parking. Really, it's not that far. I have to park there, so I should know. Those little ass-shats have all seven of their rusty old jalopies with the big "systems" and chopped off mufflers lined right in front of the building. Without permits!! This doesn't really bother me either, as visitor parking is only right across from the building. I honestly don't mind parking there. What really, really bothers me, is when their trashy alcoholic mommies come to visit three times a day, smoking their Virginia Slims and dragging around the latest K-Mart special hand bag, parking in my visitor parking spot! There's a street light that I park under every single effing day. That's my street light. Instead of swinging my car into my special spot, I have to back the whole way down the parking lot and find a spot in front of the other building. I'm not lazy, it's a long walk and this baby is heavy! I already know which mommy is always parking under my light. She's the same one that tried to pat my baby's head with a cigarette in her hand, I almost totally spazzed, freaked, pulling the baby away and yelling "No smoke! No smoke!" like I'm new to the English language and I haven't yet learned how to form complete sentences. No smoke!

Anyways, I've been waiting for karma to destroy this bitch and all of her offspring (since the second hand smoke didn't do that yet), so I could start to rely on my parking space again, but karma does not like to be rushed and who knows how long it will be before they all get hit by a bus? So you know what I did about it?

I wrote this blog. Hey, I'm a pussy and I have a baby to think about. The woman's a little sick looking, but I'm sure she could kick my ass, especially if I threatened any of her spawn. But I'd like to do something really mean to my inconsiderate neighbors.

It's not just a parking space. It's the principle of the thing.

Baby Bling

I love accessories. I'm a bling whore, from headbands to keychains, rings and necklaces, as long as it's shiny, I love it. Madelynn is all girl (or all diva, whichever you choose), and she also loves anything that shines, sparkles, and glints in the light. So I had to buy my little princess a bracelet, but I just could not fathom paying fifty to a hundred bucks for a three inch sterling silver, swarovski crystal, whatever else they put on it, bracelet. It's only going to fit her for like two months! I entertained the idea of just making my own, but the plastic nursing necklace was about the extent of my bling making skills, and I just couldn't make her wear something so, so preschool.

So I bought one.

Look how little!

This whole bracelet thing just oozes cute, so much cute that I would gag if it weren't my own baby looking so cute.

So if you're looking for a baby bracelet, but you can't afford to spend a weeks worth of tip money on it (or your boyfriend is too cheap), go here and you'll find a billion different bracelets by Trendy Tatters. It's all sterling silver and she even makes custom designs.

I love etsy.com. I can't believe I had never heard of it before, but this is like the third thing I've bought from that damn site. I even bookmarked the necklace that I wanted for my birthday so all Jeffrey had to do was put in his card number (romantic, I know), and I absolutely love my "Madelynn" necklace.

Alright, I'm done plugging.

Chilly Daymares

When I walked to my car today, I felt my fingers instantly freeze. There were all these little sleet ball things smacking my nose. When did it get so damn cold? I despise Pennsylvania every time this season pounds me in the face. Why was fall so short? What I can't seem to figure out this year, is exactly how you leave the house with a baby. We have snuggly suits, and of course lots of layers, but what about Mady's little nose? Will it freeze off the second we walk outside? I have daymares about it. *I let the car warm up for half hour. I take the baby outside, thinking that by making a mad dash down all those stairs, I can keep that tiny nose attached to her face. I just have to run fast, straight to the warm car. I get to the car and slam the carseat in the back. I'm trying to remove the twenty-five blankets covering Mads, but when I get to the last blanket, I find that there's a huge gaping hole where her nose used to be. And we can't find it. I think if I can find her nose, they can sew it back on. But it's gone. I'm panicked! Did she eat it? She doesn't have enough teeth! It must have melted. Oh shit, it melted away.* Horror.

What about snow? How the hell do I keep snow from pummeling her forehead and removing all the heat from her body, leaving her a baby popsicle minus one nose?

Ice patches! Crossing an ice patch with a 20lb. baby and a 20lb. carseat in the same arm? I would fall flat on my ass, losing grip of the carseat, unable to stop it as it slides across the ice straight into oncoming traffic, her little arms waving while she cries, "stop me Mommy, stop me!" The wind wants to tear our balcony off. It probably wants my baby too. No way. No effing way.

A little morbid? Unwholesomely gloomy? I can't help it.

We won't be leaving the house this winter. Christmas, Thanksgiving, and the New Year will just have to come to us. Screw this weather, and screw you too, Pennsylvania.

(Unwholesomely is in fact a word.)

Now That's Just Gross

I was feeding Madelynn and she started choking a little. I assumed the milk had just gone down the wrong tube, so I sat her up and gave her a couple good pounds on the back before I put her back to eat. My shirt was getting all wet so I looked down and oh holy hell. There is a massive amount of breast milk shooting from this baby's nose. I'm not talking like a couple drops, I'm talking more like a couple ounces. I sat her up and it was just streaming from her nose all over her clothes, the floor, and me. I ran to the kitchen to get a paper towel carrying Mads like a football, her nose dripping a milk trail the whole way there. She was smiling through the whole process.

Babies are gross.

New Toys and Birthday Mayhem

I felt really guilty about leaving Mads with my Mum for five hours straight, so before Jeffrey and I went out for the evening, I bought her a whole bunch of bright, fun toys for her to play with. Of course she was asleep before my Mum even got to our house, but I figured she would get to play with them the next day. So today, we're sitting on the floor and I have all these new toys scattered around her, just begging her to play with them. Eff you Mommy, and eff your birthday toys. She's been chewing on that little red CD for almost an hour. I can't get her to let go of it.

And as for my birthday, this is me...

about twenty minutes before I received a citation for disorderly conduct. No. I'm not kidding. It is illegal to pee in the bushes, even if it's in a dark alley with a "lookout". Do yourselves a favor, and just find a fucking bathroom.

I knew I shouldn't have worn my bright red and white polka-dot panties. So much for camouflage.

Fuck.

She's a Lady

Bug!

We're getting Mads' Halloween pictures tomorrow, but I just couldn't resist trying her costume on her. And then because I have no willpower, I had to take about a million pictures. Too bad she was being a little diva and making sure I knew the grass was ten times more important than whatever I wanted her to do. I tried everything.

Madelynn! Look over here Madelynn. Hey Mady. Look Mady. Baby. Baby. Baby. Hey Baby!! Hey kid. Kid! Yo kid. LOOK!! Dammit kid.

I now have about 167 pictures of her head down. She's such a punk.

I got these by rubbing two leaves together. Brilliant!

Oops. Being the bad Mommy that I am, I had to take a picture even though she fell over. She didn't fall hard, I swear.

Pony Up

She may be too young to ride this bucking bronco, but my little cowgirl is just tall enough to chew on him.

Crappy Mommy Awards

I did a crappy thing this morning.

Mads is sitting on the floor, playing with the toys in her toy basket, picking one up and chewing on it, throwing it down to pick another to slobber all over. I wanted a picture of her chewing on her basket, but my camera was on the kitchen counter. I assessed the situation, I could either knock her down and get the camera at a leisurely pace, or I could leave her to sit two feet away while I made a mad dash to the counter. She's been sitting unassisted for up to twenty minutes at a time, but I've always been right there. I'm like lightening, so I chose to let her sit while I went the two feet to the counter. Bad choice, Mommy. Bad choice. I hadn't even gotten the whole way off the floor, I'm in that 'one knee still down' stage of standing when I hear, THUD. It was like slow motion from there. By the time I could turn my head there was "WAaaHaaaH". My baby is face down, her nose smooshed into that stupid little CD player, and she's screaming. I scooped her up and gave her hugs, kissed her nose, her cheeks, her teeth, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, so sorry sorry sorry. Her screams turned into a whimper, the whimper into a smile, and the smile into a baby kiss. She wasn't mad, but I was on the verge of having a panic attack.

Just to rub some salt in my gaping guilt wound, when she wanted picked up after sitting just fine for a good 12 minutes (of course now she can do it), I tried to grab the comb that she had been chewing on and elbowed her right in the forehead. Shit. In my defense, I'm used to her head being on the floor, not hovering right around elbow level. My poor kid is just getting her ass kicked today and it's not even noon.

Edit: It's 11:58 so I have one more to add before noon. She just bashed her face off the turtle on her Exersaucer. I'm not sure how I could have prevented that one, but it makes me feel guilty just the same. I think I'm going to take us both to bed and put the covers over our heads until Jeffrey gets home. It has to be much safer compared to the thousands of dangers in this damn living room.

I just don't know what's going on today. It's very "Dr. Seuss Wacky Wednesday." There will probably be a shoe on the ceiling before too long. What an off day.

The pictures that started it all:

Real Hugs

I walked in the house after my morning shift, Mady was sitting in the bumbo playing with a toy. As soon as she saw me, she started crying. I grabbed her as soon as I got my tie off and she wrapped both chubby arms around my neck and gave me a real baby hug. I'm not talking one of those, yank on my shirt and pull my hair jobbers, it was a full on hug complete with cheek to cheek slobbers and lots of smiles.

It was the best hug I've ever received.

DIY

I'm not real "crafty". I'm more of a, 'why make it when you can just buy it', kind of girl. But now that I'm happily living the poor life, I've found that buying isn't really an option. I set out today to buy supplies to make that nursing necklace, and left with enough stuff to not only make five or six ugly necklaces, but also a whole crap load of scrapbooking supplies (and paint, primer, sandpaper, and pully knob things, but that's a different blog). I don't scrapbook. I actually like those ready-made baby books that you just tape your pictures to. Even though pre-made baby books are enough for me, they're not enough for my perfect baby. Every baby should have a scrap book, a book to marvel over when they're 20, a book that shows how much work and love their Mommy put into documenting their childhood. I was hoping my own Mommy would make Madelynn's, since I'm lazy like that, but it just wouldn't be the same.

I decided to start small, a practice scrapbook I guess, so I bought all matchy-matchy things and a "Scrapbooks Made Easy" guide to get me through the first couple pages. I figured I could finish three or four pages before bed. Well, I'm a scrapbooking idiot. I'm sitting on the floor with 50 sheets of paper, a million buttons, stickers, and ribbon, and not a clue. I almost "scrapped" (haha) the whole idea to watch some T.V. instead, but I forced myself to be Super Mommy and make my first page.

The page is all crinkly because I used the wrong kind of glue, I fought with the bow for fifteen minutes before I yelled "Fuck It!" out loud and just glued the damn thing on, the whole page is a little crooked, and I somehow managed to make it too big for the book sleeves because I had to cut off a good quarter inch strip to make it fit. Three or four pages before bed? That shit took me almost forty-five minutes.

As much as I'd like to hire someone to finish the stupid book for me, I have this overwhelming urge to hang my cover page on the refrigerator.

At this rate, Mady's practice scrapbook will be done by her first day of kindergarten. Go me!

Nursing Necklace

It's damn near impossible to feed Madelynn. She's all waving arms and kicking legs, pulling my hair, yanking on my cheek, pinching my free nipple, and just all around making the nursing experience slightly less enjoyable for the nurser. And that's if I can get her to pay attention, usually she's craning her neck to find the cat, coming back, craning, ugh. I searched the internet for the solution and found all these wonderful nursing necklaces. They are supposed to keep your child from getting distracted, giving them something to play with while they booby suck. Brilliant! $29.95? Are you fucking crazy? These necklaces look like they were made by preschoolers in summer camp and they want thirty bucks from me? I think not. I'm way too practical for that, so I made my own.

I'm not sure if it works yet, Mady is sleeping and won't get to try it out until tomorrow. But even if she hates it, I'm going to wear it anyways because it's super cool.

Please?

I'm afraid that Mads will never crawl. She seems content to use rolling as her number one means of transportation, even though I've tried to enforce more tummy time. I lay her on her belly, she rolls over, I flip her back, she rolls. I tried holding her there, but she screams like I'm beating her with a stick or something. I've asked nicely, "Please try to crawl, please? Pretty pretty please? Dammit Mady, I said please." but she just doesn't want to talk about it. I've even tried demonstrating the correct crawling pose, going from my belly to balancing on all fours, waving my butt to show her how unsteady she would be at first. She watched very closely and then smiled at me. Such a beautiful smile, yet I'd like to flick her in the forehead sometimes. I'm not saying that she should be crawling by now, she still has a huge window to start that, but I'm just afraid she might skip it. I read this study saying that children that skipped crawling and went straight to standing/walking tend to have lower English scores. Doctors have disputed it, saying it's just an old wives' tale and that there's no evidence to connect dumb high school kids with crawling vs. walking. I hope they're right.

After I stood her up and she grabbed on to the rail, I had this insane urge to knock her down for the sake of winning a spelling bee. I decided to just take pictures instead.

I'm not giving up on crawling. I honestly believe that she could do it now if she wanted to. I just have to make her want to. Somehow...

Dinner For Three

Before Poops McGee, Jeffrey and I used to go out to dinner about four or five times a week. When Mads graced us with her presence, that number plummeted to about five times in six months. It's understandable, babies are so unpredictable, they never sleep when you want them to, and always manage to need a booby right when your entree is served. Madelynn has done fairly well in restaurants the few times we've chanced it, as long as I don't mind eating without any hands.

Tonight we went to dinner, and when the hostess brought over the carseat-slingy-thingy, I asked her for a highchair. "Oh, a highchair?" Yes, a fucking highchair. I figured since Madelynn has become Little Miss Sitting Machine these past couple days, it wouldn't hurt to try. What a difference! Mady sat in her highchair the entire time, playing with toys that I scattered over the little tray, and I ate a completely hot meal. I only had to bend down to pick up all those toys fifty times, and only used half a pack of sani-wipes trying to keep them clean, but it was totally worth it to have a semi-hands-free dining experience.

The planets have aligned.

Funny Bone

:)

You See Me Rollin'

Now this video isn't that great. I had to hide behind the crib to get it, because she won't go anywhere if I'm watching. Anyways, she has this little purple CD player that her G-Ma Pitcher bought her and that toy was her ultimate goal. One mystery down.

Doesn't she just have the cutest, most perfect feetsies? Yes, yes she does.

O-Zone

There's a new favorite song around this house. It's not just me, Jeffrey has been singing it for days also. Even Mady gets 'kicky leg syndrome' when I play it over and over. Here's the live version, the dance moves are fabulous.

I Just Want a Fuckin Latte

Today Mum came over to watch Mady for a couple hours. Before Jeffrey and I had to leave, she asked us if we were still planning to go out for my birthday, and wanted to know what day we were going to do it. Jeffrey and I debated back and forth for almost an hour about whether we wanted to go out the weekend of my birthday, or the next week for Halloween. A whole hour spent discussing the 24th vs. the 31st, like there's really that big of a difference, but this was like debating healthcare policies or something. Uber-important.

Two years ago, we went out for my birthday and for Halloween, plus five of the seven nights in between. And we didn't need to consult my Mother about it either. When did these things become so hard?

I can't help but look back and miss the freedom we had. I love Madelynn and I could never picture my life without her now, but life was so convenient fifteen months ago. I don't necessarily mean all that partying and drinking, it was time for that crazy shit to stop anyways, but all the little things that used to be so easy are now a huge process. I took so many things for granted.

Let's take coffee as an example. If I wanted a cup of coffee, ya know the good kind, double shot espresso with caramel and steamed milk (biatch!), I would hop in my car, have it started before I even shut my door, run in-grab coffee-pay-home. Now if I want a cup of coffee (which this lactating mother can't drink anyway), I have to wait until Mady's in a good mood, make sure she's dressed weather appropriate, fight her into her carseat, run around looking for bunny lovey, drag her and 20lb. carseat down two flights of stairs, and then fight my two door car to fit that stupid carseat in. And that's just getting to the car. At the store: fight baby and 20lb. carseat out of two door car, lug her into store, talk to every single person that passes, get coffee while trying to keep her entertained, and pay while telling cashier her height, weight, age, favorite toy etc. Whew. Now "put your thang down flip it and reverse it", and that's coffee. Voila! Although I should say, those two flights of stairs are so much harder going up. Carrying baby, purse, and coffee that I am now too exhausted to even drink makes me want to buy 'Elevators for Dummies' and install the damn thing myself using nail clippers and bobby pins. Why the hell doesn't this place have an elevator?

I really want a latte, but God I love that baby.

Next time, I'll tell you what it's like to vacuum. You're probably tinkling yourself with excitement.

Shots Still Hurt

Shot today. Two actually, and both of them in the same chubby thigh. She screamed for less than thirty seconds, and then 30 seconds more when I ripped the band-aid off during a diaper change, but now she's been crying on and off all day. It's not the grumpy cry, feed me cry, or the 'I should have been asleep 20 minutes ago' cry. It's more like, 'something hurts dammit, and if you don't make it stop I'm going to rip your face off' cry. She's in pain, and she's pissed about it. Cuddles and walks around the room lead to Jeffrey's lips being pulled and stretched to their ripping point. My hair has been in a pony-tail since 9:30am, yet she manages to find that stray clump with her waving fists and yanks it out with a hiccuping grunt.

My poor baby. I just want to hug her, but she won't let me do that and still keep my eyeballs. As I've said before, shots hurt.

I Love My Box

Madelynn has many, many toys. Soft toys, hard toys, big, small, furry, chewy, and annoying toys. But her favorite things to play with can't be found in a toy box. From magazines to oatmeal canisters to paper towel tubes, she can turn anything into a fun new toy. Her latest favorite...

Allow me to introduce this year's number one must-have gift for this holiday season. It's the Au Gratin Potato Box! With it's sleek design and easy to hold corners, your little one will enjoy hours of fun with The Au Gratin Potato Box. This wonderful toy can be yours for only $29.95 plus a small shipping fee. Call now to order, and to learn more about our huge variety of children's toys including the ever popular Nutri-grain Bar Wrapper! All orders are subject to 6% sales tax. Thank you.

Cat Baby

Madelynn loves our cat. She's completely amazed by all the super fabulous things that Wicca does. So what does Wicca do that is so incredible? Nothing. She walks around, lays down on the floor, and then walks around some more. Occasionally she'll sit instead of doing a full-out sprawl-out, which is enough to make Mady shake with excitement. Wicca has accepted the fact that a very small person has been added to our little family, but she refuses to acknowledge her presence. She skitters away from Mady's grabby hands, careful to keep her tail from falling into the clutches of that small human monster that only wants to chew on her.

I have to give the cat a little credit. She tried to make friends when Mady first came home, but Jeffrey and I were quick to "pssst" her away for fear that she would scratch our baby blob. But Wicca was persistent and tried again after the SoftPaws fiasco, like she knew her new fake nails granted her permission to terrorize all the humans in this house, including the 'too small to defend' breed. Mady was sitting on the floor with me when Wicca sauntered over in that way that only cats can, and gave Mady's nose a little sniff. At first I thought Madelynn was frozen in fear, but then both of her little arms shot out and grabbed hold of Wicca, intending to bite her face off. Wicca jumped and high-tailed it to the safety of the kitchen. Mady was left holding two fistfuls of hair while Wicca was left a little less fuzzy.

So now, Madelynn has to admire her furry friend from afar, because Wicca won't go within three feet of her. Our fuzzy baby sticks to high places and the corners of the room trying to avoid our not so fuzzy baby. I feel sorry for both of them, Mady because she gets so happy when she sees the cat but can't touch her, and Wicca because she had to alienate herself from the household for fear of losing her tail.

I wonder if Wicca knows Mady will be able to crawl soon? Poor Wicca.

Pooped

In two ways!

We had a poop-tastrophe so extreme this afternoon I even found some in her hair. I'm not really sure how it happened, but it was the kind of disaster that a whole box of wipes wouldn't mend, so Poops had a nice afternoon bath. And afterwards...

She was so excited about bath time taking place at a different time of day that she played extra hard when it was over and ended up "pooping out" right where she lay. She was pooped. :)

"Such a Good Baby"

I had a lot to do today in a small amount of time. There was this silly server meeting at 9am that I didn't even know about until eight o'clock last night. My cousin's baby shower was at noon, in Howard no less, and I hadn't even bought a gift yet. I had to somehow figure out how to go to the meeting, go somewhere to buy a gift, wrap the gift, and get Mady and I dressed and to the shower an hour away. Solution? Strap the baby in her car seat and drag her all over Centre County within three hours.

I was a little nervous about the server meeting. What was the poor girl going to do for an hour and a half? Not sleep. I'm incredibly lucky if I can get her to nap any time before eleven, and since she overslept a little this morning while I was getting ready, I knew that nap was near impossible. She did great, banging her toys on the table, throwing them and getting happy when someone picked them up for her, "talking" any time there was a lull in whatever the hell the speakers were talking about. We started to hit a rough patch at about 10:15, but after I stood up, she was giving kisses to Linda and giggling at Mark. Before we left, Becky says, "I can't believe how good your baby is!". Hey! Me neither! I don't think I absorbed any of the information being spouted during the meeting, but hey, what do I care? I only work two days a week. She was such a good baby.

So then we're off to Walmart. Mady slept in the car, and when I was picking out a cart, I deliberately picked one that had a gimpy wheel so it would rattle the whole way around the store. She slept through the whole trip until one of those stupid cashiers woke her up to talk baby talk. Why would anyone feel like it's a good idea to wake up a sleeping baby? I'll never know. Mady smiled and chatted and tried to touch the woman's face. "What a good baby you have!" So I've heard. I ended up spending a crap load of tip money on baby clothes because I felt guilty for not buying a stupid gift ahead of time and then had to wrap the whole thing in the parking lot. Where's Mady? Playing with the butterfly thing that hangs from her carseat and giggling. She was such a good baby.

Now we drive the hour trip to the baby shower. I'm late, as I always am to family functions, and Mady has decided in the driveway that she just can't take it anymore. I feed her first thing and then let everyone fawn over her while she gives sloppy kisses, does cute things like take her sock off and chew on it, and babbles to anyone who wants to talk to her. What do all these people have to say? "She's such a good baby!", "What a happy baby you have!", "I wish my son were like this as a baby! He was a screamer!", "She's so sweet and so good!". She was such a good baby.

And she is. I have an exceptionally good baby and she proves it to me every day. I always think there's going to be a disaster, but there never is.

So I have to ask, why do I get so annoyed with her that hour before bed time? Why can one hour out of 24 make me forget all the good things she's done throughout the day? Why do I always set our days up for failure, expecting the worse and never remembering that it's always the best?

I don't want to be that kind of Mommy. I don't want to harp on the little negative things, whether it be crayon on the walls or a failed math test. I don't ever want to yell, or make her feel like she's a bad girl. I know she can tell when I'm aggravated with her. I don't have to say anything, she can just feel it. Why though? Why don't I give her any credit for being the perfect little person, for making shopping trips easier than I ever thought they could be and car rides fun and fancy free?

I don't know. Maybe I thought parenting would be harder than this and I'm just waiting for it to start. Maybe that grumpy hour only grates my nerves because I haven't figured out how to fix it all for her. All I know is that today is the day that I stop the madness. No more annoyed rocking of the grumpy baby. No more being surprised when things go exactly as planned without a hitch. No more mean Mommy, grunting and sighing and rolling my eyes, at 8:06 on the dot.

My perfect baby deserves to be rewarded after a long day of being good. And if that means grumpy hour with a smile, I'm going to clench my teeth and force that smile until my cheeks hurt. Maybe it will just come naturally after a little practice. I have such a good baby.

Beautiful Day

Madelynn, Jeffrey, and I decided to take advantage of this beautiful day by taking some family pictures. I packed up my tripod and camera, and we were off.

As much as I love those pictures, my favorites are the ones that happened by accident.

She's trying to rip his lips off. My favorite.