Let me begin by admitting that I am not the easiest person to live with. I am fairly obsessive when it comes to cleanliness (house and personal), extremely ornery with a love of practical jokes (an unnerving combination in itself), and annoyed to a boiling point by things such as chewing too loudly, sneezing, TV too loud, etc.
One Sunday afternoon I was feeling very playful while my husband and I were watching a football game on TV. We saw The Blind Side a few weeks ago and I decided that Michael Oher is the best NFL player of all time. Every time a black man made a tackle I asked if that person was Michael Oher. (The first time I was serious but then I was just trying to drive him crazy.) It was too much fun. Finally, I asked if Tom Brady was Michael Oher and I was responded to with "Seriously?... no, that is not Michael Oher! He doesn't even play for either of these teams!" HAHAHAHAHA! It takes a lot of persistence to annoy my husband (he teaches middle school).
Now every time he puts a football game on I ask him where Michael Oher is and he immediately changes the channel.
Then there was the time he peed with the door open. I walked in, turned off the light, shut the door, and the proceeded to pile baby toys in front of the door. The look on his face was priceless!
I once started eating carrots right next to him on the couch. After about three bites I got a dirty look. hehehehehe... fuel to the fire! I began crunching as loudly as possible. After about three minutes he took the remaining carrot from me and ate it himself. I guess it is a good way to get him to eat vegetables! I then turned my attention to the Capri Sun package I was drinking. I quickly finished the remaining juice and began slurping as loudly as I could.
SLURP...SLURP...SLURP...dirty look...SLURP...SLURP... "I am going to shove that up your &^% if you don't stop"... SLURP...
and now we are wrestling on the floor. I am howling with laughter and my husband is fiercely determined to find a place for the Capri Sun wrapper in my butt crack. I am not embarrassed to admit that he found a spot. I am also not embarrassed to admit that once I removed the wrapper from my crack I found another spot for it: my husband's face. I proceeded to rub his face with the wrapper until he was on his knees laughing.
Oh... good times!
Sunday, January 10, 2010
Friday, December 18, 2009
Walmart: Why Does Everyone Have to Know about it?
I think everyone can agree that Walmart is the best. The store has everything at the best prices. Even the smaller Walmart stores have everything you need for daily life. I don't know how Walmart's Purchasing department knows that I will need apples, oranges, Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone on Blu Ray, an orange traffic cone, an i-tunes card, my blood pressure taken, craft glue, a new car battery, and peanut butter in the same trip, but somehow they anticipate it.
But in all Walmart's glory, I have to say that I absolutely hate going there! Why? I hate about 90 percent of Walmart customers! Let's examine what I believe are the categories for Walmart customers:
1. The White-Trash Mom - She can be identified by wearing pajamas, crazy hair, and dirty, unruly, inappropriately dressed children. At some point during her trip she will spank one of her kids while yelling "No, you shut up" in a raspy, hick-accented voice. She is usually found in the processed foods section or (if it is a holiday) at the deli buying fried chicken. During check-out she reads all the tabloid magazines and laughs while her children terrorize the other people in line. She usually channels your automatic instinct to roll your eyes and makes you recall the number to Child Protective Services. She also makes you rethink your stand on government interference regarding who should be allowed to have children.
2. The Unmannerly Old Lady - She can be identified by cutting people off without saying "excuse me". Instead she just acts like she didn't see you (yeah right granny! I saw you and I would have cart crashed you if I thought your fragile, little bones could take a hit!) She is also identifiable by interrupting you at the Customer Service desk to ask a question or take a pen. (She usually just gets right in front of you while you are in the middle of your return or whatever). She is usually at the pharmacy arguing about her Medicare or at Customer Service trying to return something that is 10 years old. During check-out she is arguing with the cashier about the cost of EVERYTHING and still thinks she needs to write her checks. She also waits to start writing her check until everything is totaled, bagged, in her cart, and triple-checked to ensure she didn't forget anything. Then she asks for the total 3 times. She is usually in the 20 Items or Less aisle with 48 cans of cat food and 12 cases of Ensure. Although I have no supporting evidence, I believe at one time the Unmannerly Old Lady was the White-Trash Mom. She usually channels the "choke-slam, if you don't move your &^%, I am going to end your life, you mean, gross old woman" reaction.
3. The small town high school students - These kids can be identified by their yelling and running through the store, lettermen jackets, and acne. They are usually way too excited to be at Walmart and believe that it is a hang-out spot instead of a place to shop. They are usually in the Toy section and believe they are the only people who ever thought of riding the tri-cycles throughout the store for amusement. They are also quite fond of any swords. During check-out they.... oh wait... they don't buy anything! They usually invoke the instinct to beat them over the head with their toy swords and then run them over with the tri-cycles they have been playing with.
4. The Scooter-Scooter-Space-Intruder-Lard Ass (sssila) - This person can be identified by the dull hum of an overworked scooter motor right in front of you and the excess fat rolls hanging from each side. He/She is usually right in your way and going at a snail's pace. Like the unmannerly old lady, the sssila will cut you off with no remorse and not let you pass. If you find a way to pass, he/she will scoff at you as if you are rude and unsympathetic to the fact that obesity is a disease and he/she cannot help that McDonald's puts so much fat in its food. This person can always be found directly in front of the item you need when you are in a hurry. If you are not in a hurry, you can most definitely find this person at the in-store restaurant or by following the food crumb and wrapper trail. During check-out this person is pretty ok. Sometimes he/she may need help loading items on the conveyor belt but he/she never has too much and usually pays with cash. And since you are a nice person, you are happy to help someone who has a slight disability. (oh yes... bring on the warm fuzzies.) After check-out this person will cause you to blow a blood vessel in your neck when you see him/her get out of the scooter, leave it in the middle of the exit walkway, and walk to the car with his/her groceries.
5. The Lacrezia Sapphire Shafreeka (aka scary black lady) - This woman can be identified by wearing size 8 shorts and a medium top on her size 22 frame regardless of the time of year. She is also always in your way, but this chick is SCARY and you don't dare do anything to make her mad! She looks mean enough to papercut you with her welfare check or at least scream some unintelligible Ebonics at you and cause a huge embarrassing scene. She can usually be found in the Ethnic Cosmetics section screaming something about "When Shafreeka Jr.'s baby daddy pays me for that kid, I be at the beauty shop gettin' my hair and nails did great. Um hum.. that's right... you heard me." Her children are almost always left in the car regardless of age and quantity. (One more time with the Child Protective Services number... seriously, Walmart should have that number posted at the end of every aisle.) During check-out she is almost always in the Self Check-Out aisle screaming at the machine. She usually has to have an employee fix whatever she screwed up while she yells at the employee for making the check-out instructions too difficult. (Yeah, the employee did it.) She usually causes an increase in blood pressure and an instinct to get your mace ready.
6. The Normal Person - This person goes to Walmart in normal clothes that fit appropriately, walks the entire time, does not scream at or hit anyone, and follows general guidelines for politeness. This person usually ends up with a disturbed look on his/her face by the second aisle and has usually uttered a swear word by aisle four. By aisle 6 he/she has usually leaned over the cart and bashed his/her head off it a few times to keep from acquiescing to the urges brought on by the high schools kids. By the time check-out hits this person usually has given him/herself a small bald spot from pulling at hair, a bruised forehead, high blood pressure, a high cell phone bill, no fingernails left, and a lot of forgiveness to ask for upon arriving home.
Walmart could be a perfect place if only they made guidelines for who could enter. Oh well, I can dream can't I?
But in all Walmart's glory, I have to say that I absolutely hate going there! Why? I hate about 90 percent of Walmart customers! Let's examine what I believe are the categories for Walmart customers:
1. The White-Trash Mom - She can be identified by wearing pajamas, crazy hair, and dirty, unruly, inappropriately dressed children. At some point during her trip she will spank one of her kids while yelling "No, you shut up" in a raspy, hick-accented voice. She is usually found in the processed foods section or (if it is a holiday) at the deli buying fried chicken. During check-out she reads all the tabloid magazines and laughs while her children terrorize the other people in line. She usually channels your automatic instinct to roll your eyes and makes you recall the number to Child Protective Services. She also makes you rethink your stand on government interference regarding who should be allowed to have children.
2. The Unmannerly Old Lady - She can be identified by cutting people off without saying "excuse me". Instead she just acts like she didn't see you (yeah right granny! I saw you and I would have cart crashed you if I thought your fragile, little bones could take a hit!) She is also identifiable by interrupting you at the Customer Service desk to ask a question or take a pen. (She usually just gets right in front of you while you are in the middle of your return or whatever). She is usually at the pharmacy arguing about her Medicare or at Customer Service trying to return something that is 10 years old. During check-out she is arguing with the cashier about the cost of EVERYTHING and still thinks she needs to write her checks. She also waits to start writing her check until everything is totaled, bagged, in her cart, and triple-checked to ensure she didn't forget anything. Then she asks for the total 3 times. She is usually in the 20 Items or Less aisle with 48 cans of cat food and 12 cases of Ensure. Although I have no supporting evidence, I believe at one time the Unmannerly Old Lady was the White-Trash Mom. She usually channels the "choke-slam, if you don't move your &^%, I am going to end your life, you mean, gross old woman" reaction.
3. The small town high school students - These kids can be identified by their yelling and running through the store, lettermen jackets, and acne. They are usually way too excited to be at Walmart and believe that it is a hang-out spot instead of a place to shop. They are usually in the Toy section and believe they are the only people who ever thought of riding the tri-cycles throughout the store for amusement. They are also quite fond of any swords. During check-out they.... oh wait... they don't buy anything! They usually invoke the instinct to beat them over the head with their toy swords and then run them over with the tri-cycles they have been playing with.
4. The Scooter-Scooter-Space-Intruder-Lard Ass (sssila) - This person can be identified by the dull hum of an overworked scooter motor right in front of you and the excess fat rolls hanging from each side. He/She is usually right in your way and going at a snail's pace. Like the unmannerly old lady, the sssila will cut you off with no remorse and not let you pass. If you find a way to pass, he/she will scoff at you as if you are rude and unsympathetic to the fact that obesity is a disease and he/she cannot help that McDonald's puts so much fat in its food. This person can always be found directly in front of the item you need when you are in a hurry. If you are not in a hurry, you can most definitely find this person at the in-store restaurant or by following the food crumb and wrapper trail. During check-out this person is pretty ok. Sometimes he/she may need help loading items on the conveyor belt but he/she never has too much and usually pays with cash. And since you are a nice person, you are happy to help someone who has a slight disability. (oh yes... bring on the warm fuzzies.) After check-out this person will cause you to blow a blood vessel in your neck when you see him/her get out of the scooter, leave it in the middle of the exit walkway, and walk to the car with his/her groceries.
5. The Lacrezia Sapphire Shafreeka (aka scary black lady) - This woman can be identified by wearing size 8 shorts and a medium top on her size 22 frame regardless of the time of year. She is also always in your way, but this chick is SCARY and you don't dare do anything to make her mad! She looks mean enough to papercut you with her welfare check or at least scream some unintelligible Ebonics at you and cause a huge embarrassing scene. She can usually be found in the Ethnic Cosmetics section screaming something about "When Shafreeka Jr.'s baby daddy pays me for that kid, I be at the beauty shop gettin' my hair and nails did great. Um hum.. that's right... you heard me." Her children are almost always left in the car regardless of age and quantity. (One more time with the Child Protective Services number... seriously, Walmart should have that number posted at the end of every aisle.) During check-out she is almost always in the Self Check-Out aisle screaming at the machine. She usually has to have an employee fix whatever she screwed up while she yells at the employee for making the check-out instructions too difficult. (Yeah, the employee did it.) She usually causes an increase in blood pressure and an instinct to get your mace ready.
6. The Normal Person - This person goes to Walmart in normal clothes that fit appropriately, walks the entire time, does not scream at or hit anyone, and follows general guidelines for politeness. This person usually ends up with a disturbed look on his/her face by the second aisle and has usually uttered a swear word by aisle four. By aisle 6 he/she has usually leaned over the cart and bashed his/her head off it a few times to keep from acquiescing to the urges brought on by the high schools kids. By the time check-out hits this person usually has given him/herself a small bald spot from pulling at hair, a bruised forehead, high blood pressure, a high cell phone bill, no fingernails left, and a lot of forgiveness to ask for upon arriving home.
Walmart could be a perfect place if only they made guidelines for who could enter. Oh well, I can dream can't I?
Sunday, December 6, 2009
Scardy Cats Unite: Why We Should Never be Left Home Alone
About two weeks ago, the baby and I were at the house alone. Ryan just left for football practice and would not be home for a few hours. I started feeding The Queen (the baby) when I heard what sounded like a a duffel bag unzipping quickly. Noodle immediately confirmed that I was not hearing things when she bolted from her spot on the couch to the origin of the sound. She ran in the bedroom and began barking and running in circles. About the fourth circle she almost crashed into the wall. If she can't scare off an intruder... I don't know what would.
In all seriousness, at this point I was fairly freaked out. I calmly placed the baby in a safe place by the front door and tiptoed into the bedroom. I looked around and saw nothing. Noodle looked at me with a look resignation and returned to the couch. At this point I thought "Must have been some moron neighbor doing something loud and stupid." (Not unusual for my neighborhood.)
I continued feeding the baby when I heard scratching. I looked at Noodle who was sound asleep and oblivious to the noise this time. From her snoring I translated "Hey, I barked. I don't know what else you want from me. It's not like anyone would try to kill me anyway".
Once again I got up and looked around. This noise sounded like it was coming from the back door or somewhere in the kitchen. I looked out the back window, nothing. Looked throughout the kitchen, nothing. Peaked in the bedroom again, still nothing. I sighed and gave up.
Upon returning to the rocking chair with the baby, I heard the scratching intensify. At this point, I was pretty convinced something was trying to kill me. I was pretty freaked out. I threw a blanket over the baby's head and we walked outside. I walked to my neighbors' houses on both sides hoping to see one of them doing something ridiculous that I could yell at them for. Someone needed to pay for me getting scared. I HATE feeling scared and it immediately turns to anger once I find the source of the fear. To my surprise there was no one outside. Not a single kid, animal, adult, no one! Holy crap!!!!!
I took a deep breath and walked back in the house. There had to be an explanation for the noises. HAD TO BE! Now, let me state this: I do not believe in ghosts, but I have a very vivid imagination and I had just watched Paranormal Activity. So you can imagine I was ready to pee in my pants when I heard another round of scratching start!
"That is it! We are out of here," I announced to the baby and Noodle. They both stared at me blankly. "Good! You both remain calm. Freaking out will only worsen the situation," I said in response.
At this point I am shaking. Something wants to eat me and I have to protect my baby! I just knew the creature was salivating somewhere in the walls and waiting for me to turn my back so it could attack me!
I grabbed the car seat, my keys and phone. I did everything I could to stay calm and think of a plan. I had just placed the baby in the car seat when I heard something directly to my right. I looked over and to my horror, the garage door is now shaking. SHAKING!!!!!!
Ok... deep breath.... I slowly walked to the door (only about three steps) to lock it. I quietly turned the lock and half expected the door to blow open in some mass explosion where I am blown 10 feet in the air and knocked through the opposite wall. (Seriously, I have to stop with the scary movies.)
Immediately upon the lock clicking into place, I hear THE SOUND. The sound that made everything become clear. The sound that justified all my fears. I was not crazy. There was something in my house. The villain that had been terrorizing me for the last hour was the neighbor's cat. It was trapped in my garage.
I am so glad I decided to wait to call the police until after I "escaped".
In all seriousness, at this point I was fairly freaked out. I calmly placed the baby in a safe place by the front door and tiptoed into the bedroom. I looked around and saw nothing. Noodle looked at me with a look resignation and returned to the couch. At this point I thought "Must have been some moron neighbor doing something loud and stupid." (Not unusual for my neighborhood.)
I continued feeding the baby when I heard scratching. I looked at Noodle who was sound asleep and oblivious to the noise this time. From her snoring I translated "Hey, I barked. I don't know what else you want from me. It's not like anyone would try to kill me anyway".
Once again I got up and looked around. This noise sounded like it was coming from the back door or somewhere in the kitchen. I looked out the back window, nothing. Looked throughout the kitchen, nothing. Peaked in the bedroom again, still nothing. I sighed and gave up.
Upon returning to the rocking chair with the baby, I heard the scratching intensify. At this point, I was pretty convinced something was trying to kill me. I was pretty freaked out. I threw a blanket over the baby's head and we walked outside. I walked to my neighbors' houses on both sides hoping to see one of them doing something ridiculous that I could yell at them for. Someone needed to pay for me getting scared. I HATE feeling scared and it immediately turns to anger once I find the source of the fear. To my surprise there was no one outside. Not a single kid, animal, adult, no one! Holy crap!!!!!
I took a deep breath and walked back in the house. There had to be an explanation for the noises. HAD TO BE! Now, let me state this: I do not believe in ghosts, but I have a very vivid imagination and I had just watched Paranormal Activity. So you can imagine I was ready to pee in my pants when I heard another round of scratching start!
"That is it! We are out of here," I announced to the baby and Noodle. They both stared at me blankly. "Good! You both remain calm. Freaking out will only worsen the situation," I said in response.
At this point I am shaking. Something wants to eat me and I have to protect my baby! I just knew the creature was salivating somewhere in the walls and waiting for me to turn my back so it could attack me!
I grabbed the car seat, my keys and phone. I did everything I could to stay calm and think of a plan. I had just placed the baby in the car seat when I heard something directly to my right. I looked over and to my horror, the garage door is now shaking. SHAKING!!!!!!
Ok... deep breath.... I slowly walked to the door (only about three steps) to lock it. I quietly turned the lock and half expected the door to blow open in some mass explosion where I am blown 10 feet in the air and knocked through the opposite wall. (Seriously, I have to stop with the scary movies.)
Immediately upon the lock clicking into place, I hear THE SOUND. The sound that made everything become clear. The sound that justified all my fears. I was not crazy. There was something in my house. The villain that had been terrorizing me for the last hour was the neighbor's cat. It was trapped in my garage.
I am so glad I decided to wait to call the police until after I "escaped".
Tuesday, November 10, 2009
Touch My Baby One More Time and Watch Me Rearrange Your Face
Today's blog is more of a rant than a story. As most everyone knows, I am the proud mommy of a wonderful 6-week-old baby girl. Since the day she was born, my already protective nature was kicked into overdrive. I make everyone wash or sanitize hands before touching her, I chase my poor husband around with Lysol because he is a school teacher (ok, so I did this before), I make us late to church and literally run for the door when it is over so no one tries to touch her, and there is only a select few people I allow to hold her.
Before my little one joined the world, I didn't give much thought to strangers or people outside our social circle wanting to see and touch her. That perspective has pulled a 360!
Why do people think it is appropriate to touch someone's infant? It is not! Especially when you do not know the person very well or do not know them at all! Would you walk up and start touching someone's 10-year-old? NO! Would you walk up and start putting your hands on a grown man? Hopefully not!
Here is my point... An infant is a human being. Not a toy, not a doll, not a pet, not an object for show and tell. So, keep your hands to yourself and show a little respect for personal space!
Before my little one joined the world, I didn't give much thought to strangers or people outside our social circle wanting to see and touch her. That perspective has pulled a 360!
Why do people think it is appropriate to touch someone's infant? It is not! Especially when you do not know the person very well or do not know them at all! Would you walk up and start touching someone's 10-year-old? NO! Would you walk up and start putting your hands on a grown man? Hopefully not!
Here is my point... An infant is a human being. Not a toy, not a doll, not a pet, not an object for show and tell. So, keep your hands to yourself and show a little respect for personal space!
Saturday, October 31, 2009
Noodle Green You Are So Clean: A Tale of the World's Most Waterphobic Dog
Noodle Green is possibly the world's silliest dog. She is a lovable blend of a dachshund and a beagle. Somehow she managed to get the best traits of each breed. She is smart like a beagle but sweet and affable like a dachshund. The only real issue Noodle has is a true phobia of water and soap.
We are not sure where this phobia stems from. My husband and I adopted Noodle when she was 8 weeks old and unless Ryan tried to drown her once and failed to mention it to me, the aquatic anxiety remains a mystery to me. The mere sound of the bathroom water coming on sends Noodle into a sprint in the opposite direction that dead ends with Ryan or me (or both) pulling her out from underneath the bed or any other hiding spots. Although it is always a battle, Noodle is an inside dog and must be bathed regularly.... do you see my dilemma?
The worst time was when the Noodle was about 5 months old. We just bought our house and it was the first bath in the new bathtub. Because of the height of the new bathtub and the fact that Noodle was still a puppy and fairly small and extremely clumsy, I thought once I put her in the bathtub she would not be able to get out. WRONG!
Once I was able to locate the Noodle (hiding in the back of the closet under Ryan's clothes), I scooped her up and we headed toward the bathroom. The second I shut the bathroom door, she started wiggling up my torso in an effort to escape. Did I mention how silly this dog is? I begin peeling her off my shoulder and neck where she has somehow managed to wrap her front legs around me. (Still not sure if she was holding on for dear life or trying to utilize a sleeper hold.) Oh well...
I finally pry her away from my neck and place the squirming little dog in the 4 inches of warm terror. She immediately pees all over her tail which is now tucked tightly between her legs and practically glued to the underside of her torso. GRRRRRRR! I drain the bathtub water and start over.
I get the bathtub refilled and get the preliminary rinse completed despite the fact that Noodle is sprinting from end to end of the bathtub. I just filled up my cup and doused her as she ran by. A few back and forths and she was thoroughly drenched. Now the soap.
I grab the wiggling and now slippery Noodle and begin applying soap. At this point water is everywhere! I get Noodle lathered up and ready for the final rinse when "oh crap, where is my cup". It is gone.
I panic and let Noodle go. Oh crap! My wet, soapy dog figured out how to jump out of the bathtub and bring six gallons of water and soap with her. When did she learn how to do that? I mentioned she is smart! Within seconds Noodle and I are having a showdown in the tiny, flooded bathroom. She is in one corner and I am in the other. I dart one way, she goes the other. We make a few circles, fall a few times, and finally I capture her.
I had to hold her under the faucet to get her rinsed. I am pretty sure she thought it was the end of her life. I get Noodle wrapped in a towel and dried to the best of my ability. I release her into the wild (aka the backyard) to let her shake. I watch as she shakes and runs laps in the backyard. Suddenly she dives head first into a dirt pile. NO! She begins rolling in it. NO! NO! NO! I watch as all my hard work comes undone. SERIOUSLY! Noodle then comes and sits at the back door ready to come inside.
Seriously?! Here we go again!
We are not sure where this phobia stems from. My husband and I adopted Noodle when she was 8 weeks old and unless Ryan tried to drown her once and failed to mention it to me, the aquatic anxiety remains a mystery to me. The mere sound of the bathroom water coming on sends Noodle into a sprint in the opposite direction that dead ends with Ryan or me (or both) pulling her out from underneath the bed or any other hiding spots. Although it is always a battle, Noodle is an inside dog and must be bathed regularly.... do you see my dilemma?
The worst time was when the Noodle was about 5 months old. We just bought our house and it was the first bath in the new bathtub. Because of the height of the new bathtub and the fact that Noodle was still a puppy and fairly small and extremely clumsy, I thought once I put her in the bathtub she would not be able to get out. WRONG!
Once I was able to locate the Noodle (hiding in the back of the closet under Ryan's clothes), I scooped her up and we headed toward the bathroom. The second I shut the bathroom door, she started wiggling up my torso in an effort to escape. Did I mention how silly this dog is? I begin peeling her off my shoulder and neck where she has somehow managed to wrap her front legs around me. (Still not sure if she was holding on for dear life or trying to utilize a sleeper hold.) Oh well...
I finally pry her away from my neck and place the squirming little dog in the 4 inches of warm terror. She immediately pees all over her tail which is now tucked tightly between her legs and practically glued to the underside of her torso. GRRRRRRR! I drain the bathtub water and start over.
I get the bathtub refilled and get the preliminary rinse completed despite the fact that Noodle is sprinting from end to end of the bathtub. I just filled up my cup and doused her as she ran by. A few back and forths and she was thoroughly drenched. Now the soap.
I grab the wiggling and now slippery Noodle and begin applying soap. At this point water is everywhere! I get Noodle lathered up and ready for the final rinse when "oh crap, where is my cup". It is gone.
I panic and let Noodle go. Oh crap! My wet, soapy dog figured out how to jump out of the bathtub and bring six gallons of water and soap with her. When did she learn how to do that? I mentioned she is smart! Within seconds Noodle and I are having a showdown in the tiny, flooded bathroom. She is in one corner and I am in the other. I dart one way, she goes the other. We make a few circles, fall a few times, and finally I capture her.
I had to hold her under the faucet to get her rinsed. I am pretty sure she thought it was the end of her life. I get Noodle wrapped in a towel and dried to the best of my ability. I release her into the wild (aka the backyard) to let her shake. I watch as she shakes and runs laps in the backyard. Suddenly she dives head first into a dirt pile. NO! She begins rolling in it. NO! NO! NO! I watch as all my hard work comes undone. SERIOUSLY! Noodle then comes and sits at the back door ready to come inside.
Seriously?! Here we go again!
Do Infants Have a Sixth Sense for Knowing when Their Parents are Almost Asleep
My one-month-old daughter woke me up this morning at 5:30 a.m. After I feed her, I put her back in bed as usual, but this morning instead of falling back asleep, she wanted her pacifier. I gave it to her, got back in bed, and just as the wonderful sleepy haze came over me and I hear "Whaaaa" (baby code for "Mom, my pacifier! It's gone! I think the teddy bear took it! Help!!!"). As I grab my robe and make my journey across the house I think "Oh my poor baby lost her pacifier! Mommy is coming!"
I place the pacifier back in her mouth, she wiggles with contentment, and quickly begins sucking the life out of it. I wait a few minutes to ensure the pacifier is securely in her mouth and then I return to bed thinking about how good it makes me feel to do the little things for my baby girl. I then begin to envision the stage on which I will accept my Mom of the Year award.
As I lie down and once again begin to fall into a pleasant sleep (no doubt dreaming about my future Mom of the Year award), I hear "Whaaaa, Whaaaa, Whaaaa". Ok, here we go again. Once more, I am up. I am slightly irritated, but I repeat the above steps, and once more my baby girl is happy and Mom of the Year is closer.
Once more I lie down and begin to settle into a deep sleep when "Whaaaa! Whaaaa! Freaking Whaaa!"Ok, this should be the last time I have to give her back the pacifier. After this time, she will fall asleep. Right? Wrong!!!!!
Baby and I repeat the pacifier battle for an hour. I stick it in her mouth and she pretends that she is going to suck on it until she falls asleep and then spits it out as soon as she senses I am asleep. I was so optimistic for sleep this morning and I swear, right before I finally acquiesced to the almighty powers of Sporadically Crying Baby, she let out a little mischeiveous giggle. It sounded something like "Whaaaaa! Whaaaaa! Hehehehehe! Whaaaa! Whaaaa! Hahahaha!" I think she and the teddy bear were conspiring against me.
I place the pacifier back in her mouth, she wiggles with contentment, and quickly begins sucking the life out of it. I wait a few minutes to ensure the pacifier is securely in her mouth and then I return to bed thinking about how good it makes me feel to do the little things for my baby girl. I then begin to envision the stage on which I will accept my Mom of the Year award.
As I lie down and once again begin to fall into a pleasant sleep (no doubt dreaming about my future Mom of the Year award), I hear "Whaaaa, Whaaaa, Whaaaa". Ok, here we go again. Once more, I am up. I am slightly irritated, but I repeat the above steps, and once more my baby girl is happy and Mom of the Year is closer.
Once more I lie down and begin to settle into a deep sleep when "Whaaaa! Whaaaa! Freaking Whaaa!"Ok, this should be the last time I have to give her back the pacifier. After this time, she will fall asleep. Right? Wrong!!!!!
Baby and I repeat the pacifier battle for an hour. I stick it in her mouth and she pretends that she is going to suck on it until she falls asleep and then spits it out as soon as she senses I am asleep. I was so optimistic for sleep this morning and I swear, right before I finally acquiesced to the almighty powers of Sporadically Crying Baby, she let out a little mischeiveous giggle. It sounded something like "Whaaaaa! Whaaaaa! Hehehehehe! Whaaaa! Whaaaa! Hahahaha!" I think she and the teddy bear were conspiring against me.
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