That is all.
Tuesday, March 31, 2009
Sunday, March 29, 2009
Mommy's Little Helper and Her New Bestie... Plus Crafty, Injured Momma, all in One Post...Plus More. Long Title, huh? Haha.
(LOVE that crazy hair, right?)
Friday, March 27, 2009
On a semi-related note, I almost had a heart attack while I was doing my make-up this morning. Imagine being home alone with your baby, when all of a sudden during mascara, an eerie voice is speaking from the hallway. My first thought was "INTRUDER" and yes, just like that. All caps. When I ran out to the hallway (carrying my curling iron like a club), I found Babe on the floor with my phone, chatting with someone (I have no idea who) on speaker phone. I didn't even know I had speaker phone! The woman hung up before I could explain, but hopefully she had children, and no explanation was needed.
Tenth month, week three. Be careful when handing your child a non-toy. You may never see it again.
*Well, on the 'glass half full' end, you may find out something you didn't know before. Speaker phone? Really?
ETA: I can't find my phone.
Wednesday, March 25, 2009
Tuesday, March 24, 2009
The inability to open the laundry room door doesn't force me to do laundry. I would just push and shove and pile forever if it were possible. But there is one event that always occurs right around the 12 load mark (I'm not kidding) and it's something that I just can't deny.
I need to go to the laundromat within 14 days, 20 if I buy a six pack of cotton unders from Wally World...
I promise, I'll go tomorrow... or maybe Thursday. Definitely Friday, if not before. Promise.
Monday, March 23, 2009
Sunday, March 22, 2009
Saturday, March 21, 2009
You do. But seriously, keep them off the Compaq. Kthx:)
Friday, March 20, 2009
Madelynn. Darling. Sweet-Baby-Cakers... you annoyed the shit out of me today. You... ugh.
It's not that she doesn't have her moments, yes the days of constant whining and leg pulling get to me, but by the time I get behind the computer to blog about the day, I've forgotten those moments and only remember the smiles and happy times. It has to be some kind of Mommy programming or something. But today. Oh good lord.
No Madelynn, you do not shit rainbows and sunshine every day. I know this blog shows otherwise, but it's true, you have picked up the most annoying habit that I have ever experienced, and it makes me suicidal every time I hear it. You gag yourself, Kid. ALL DAY. All frickin' day long, your fingers are down your throat. Like, are you baby bulimic or something?? I mean seriously. You did it once or twice the past couple days, but today, Oh.Em.GEE today, ALL DAY I was ripping your hand out of your frickin' mouth! I pull it out, she puts it back in. I pull it out, she puts it back in, gag.gag.gag!!
I don't know what it is about the gagging sound, but when I hear it, my whole body stiffens and I just want to scream. No, not scream, SHRIEK. I want to growl, high-pitched and animalistic. You know how people talk about "grating my nerves" or whatever the saying is? It's just like that, like a frickin' cheese grater is being scraped over my nervous system, causing temporary paralysis and headache. It makes me wince/cringe/shrivel/whatever and it actually hurts. I'm being serious. I want to scream because it literally hurts my brain.
But I don't let it out even though I really need to. Why? Because I wouldn't want the neighbors to call me "the screaming lady" for the rest of our stay here. It's not because I don't want to scare you Mads, that logic and reasoning flew out the window by 3pm today (five hours after your ONLY nap of the day). Yup, I would totally shriek right in the living room, right in front of you, if only we didn't have such thin walls. Lucky you.
I try to reason with myself, she's only a baby, she's just learning cause and effect, she isn't doing it just to bug me... Are you sure she isn't doing it just to bug me? It sure feels that way. She IS bugging me.
At 8pm, one whole hour after bedtime, while I was listening to Madelynn gag right in my frickin' ear (and cry when I pulled her fingers out for the millionth time), I threw my hands up in the air and thought "I can't do this. I cannot do this for seventeen years and two months. I cannot be a Mommy forever. I can't do it without screaming". And then I felt like the worst mother ever because a day of gagging was all it took to push me to that point.
Someone PLEASE tell me this gagging thing is a phase that will end like, tomorrow. Two days, I can handle two days, but no more than that. I'm in mental distress here. I'm selling you on the black market if you don't stop gagging yourself in two days, Kiddo. I'm not kidding, beautiful babies are easy to sell. DON'T TEST ME.
You know who else I'm selling? The neighbors frickin' dog. That stupid mutt has been barking non-stop all day. I don't mean "nonstop" as in, 30 minutes straight, or once or twice every hour, I mean NON-STOP since 8am. As in, BARKING THE WHOLE TIME. Between the gagging and the barking, omigosh I'm serious, I'm about to have a breakdown. I need a whole pack of cigarettes. Why would I ever quit smoking? Why would anyone quit smoking??
I do feel better. This was a good vent. I don't need to be committed or anything, but I may kill the neighbors dog. I'm gonna post that sucker to their door with a screwdriver Secret Window style. Okay, no. I wouldn't do that. But geez, the dog obviously needs something. Maybe he/she has to pee, did they ever think that maybe the dog would need to frickin' pee once in a day? A dog should not be locked in a bathroom to bark for ten hours straight. I mean, that can't be healthy. That poor, frickin' annoying dog.
In my dream house, there's a sound-proof room where I can hide away and yell profanities until my lungs hurt. Oh to dream.
Thursday, March 19, 2009
I used to dream about this car seat, no lie. I wanted one, I needed one, and when I finally opened it, I was not disappointed. I love that seat. Real, true love. It's soft, it's comfy, and it will keep my baby rear-facing so long that all of her friends will make fun of her. ::sigh::Madelynn? She doesn't know the difference between a Marathon and a Nautilus, nor would she care. But damn, I'm a happy Momma, and a happy Momma makes a happy baby. She looks pretty darn happy, right? It could possibly just be gas, but I'm thinking it's the car seat.