Pretend

Sometimes I get really 'woe is me' and say things like, "Everyone gets to take care of my baby but me." And it's sort of actually true. I don't know. It's frustrating when we take her to some type of appointment (whether it be medical or "massage-ical") and we're asked how she's been doing and I have to stare at Matt to answer because I don't know.

We've started enforcing a bedtime between 7:45 and 8:00. This means that on a good day, I get to see her for two hours before the bedtime/bath routine starts, and on a bad day (like today) it's more like 45 minutes.

Whoever has watched her that day usually has glowing things to report: She was happy all day, she rolled over again, she played, she napped. And then when I get her it's like she knows she doesn't have to be good any more and just shifts into Meltdown. She didn't cry tonight while I was with her for a total of maybe 30 minutes.

I could tell she was exhausted but I didn't really want her to sleep at 6:45 when she needed to go to bed in an hour. So I distracted her with carrots (worked for ten minutes until we stopped opening our mouth despite mom's best attempt at funny noises), naked play time (worked until we rolled our face over onto our pacifier and cried like we were just stabbed in the eye with a ginsu knife), a warm bath (I actually did get a smile out of her for five seconds) and then our massage which was generally keeping us happy until Matt came in and for whatever reason that can make her upset so we screamed until finally we ate and then we fell asleep. And this all happened in less than an hour.

And so now she's in bed and it's like, I have a baby? I'm stressed out enough and exhausted enough and covered in enough baby body fluids, but it doesn't always feel like it.

We have entered a new stage where we wake up in the middle of the night to do nothing but lay awake. She does not cry for food and won't take her pacifier. I usually know she's awake only because I can hear her legs kicking the mattress, or because she has started talking. GO TO SLEEP. I'm sure better mom's than me could just let her lie awake but I feel like I have to get her back to sleep and/or that I can't sleep while she's awake. Which turns into taking her to bed with me which means she falls asleep and I don't (mainly because she wiggles around in her sleep so damn much). I'm crossing my fingers that if (HA - when) she wakes up tonight she will just go back to sleep right away.

Speaking of sleeping I suppose I should mention that we decided to move the crib up to our room. I have generally really enjoyed this move, and I'm proud of all of us for sleeping in something other than the bouncy chair.

I have tomorrow and Wednesday off so I get to pretend that I'm a stay-at-home mom. We have a follow-up appointment with GI tomorrow. I have high hopes for this appointment, and I know that I have to stay strong to insist that they do something with her dosage, because what she's taking now is not getting the job done.

She starts day care on Thursday. I'm only devoting one line to this. There, I'm done.

We went to the State Fair on Saturday and she slept through the entire thing in the Moby wrap, despite the temperature hovering around 90. Matt pushed the stroller around just in case, and according to him everyone was "disappointed" when they looked in the stroller and saw nothing but diaper bag. Because this growth on my chest is just that, a big, black, fabric growth.

While we were waiting for the bus at the park and ride, some guy was handing out popsicle sticks. As soon as I caught a glimpse at one I knew what his agenda was, and his speech only confirmed it: "If you're going to be eating food on a stick today, remember that (and here I can't remember if he chose "God" or "Jesus") was on a stick for you." Of course my husband takes one from him. Are you even serious? I hissed at him.

"What?"
"Why did you take that from him!?"
"I didn't know what is was."
"You didn't know what it was? It looks like a cross for chrissakes." (no pun intended)
"Oh." And then he throws it on the ground. I may not be of that inclination but I probably wouldn't have thrown it on the ground.

I wanted the man to offer me one, but apparently he could smell my Jew Perfume from ten feet away, because I never had a chance to turn it down.

You know, you never see Us out there trying to shove challah down people's throats. And even if we did they would probably be excited because it TASTES SO GOOD. I digress.



Just like these keys TASTE SO GOOD.