The Wheels Have Come Off

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I could never be a single Mom.  No way.  No how.

We are lost without our rudder.  Your Dad has been in New York for work for a few days and you, Pony, have taken over.  It’s a baby coup. I’ll admit it, you run this household, that much is perfectly clear.  Who knew such a little thing, a little naked thing at the moment (you refused clothing this morning) could wield such power over me.  I am like a reed in the river without your Papa around.

You’ve discovered a new grunting sound it seems, so dainty, my love.  And a new found appreciation for 4am.

Last night for some strange reason you woke up at 4am ready to party.  You’ve never done that before.  I didn’t know what to do so I took you into our bed where after 10 minutes of ‘talking’ to me, you proceeded to projectile vomit all over the bed.  Hence, the next photo of you ‘helping’ me make the bed.

And now today, suddenly, you’ve decided that you don’t need naps anymore.  Nope. Not your thing, no matter what I do.

It’s days like this that a Hi-Ball sounds really awesome.  Not that I even know what a Hi-Ball is but I think it has whiskey and ice in it and that is all that matters.

I can see why some Mom’s get fat.  I mean, assuming they aren’t drinking during the day (which is what I’d be doing if I was still drinking so hence, why I don’t drink anymore) a sugary fatty snack makes a lot of sense.  In fact, I just ate 3 Mexican wedding cookies for lunch and it seemed perfectly reasonable to do so.  The idea of pulling out any pots and pans while I have you strapped on me, forcing you to nap, is ridiculous and we are out of anything else, so… a sugary fatty lunch it was.  And I rationalized it by saying how hard it’s been and how much I deserved it.  I get it now.  I shall no longer judge overweight moms.  I probably shouldn’t judge anyone really.  Seriously.  Not a good role model if I do.

You slept like this for almost 2 hours.  What a miracle.  And then I took us for a walk.  And judging by the looks on your face in both these pictures, I’m not sure you particularly enjoy the Bob yet.

maybe it’s a strap thing because you like to let loose in the car seat as well
but I hear most babies do that so I guess it’s okay
Being a mom is seriously the most improvisational, intensely creative, and ridiculously riddling thing I have ever done.  Nothing can prepare you for your first child. Nothing.
It’s like having to solve the game Clue with you a hundred times a day.  Your diaper is dry, you’ve been fed, it’s not your sleepy time, what the hell could it be?  Was it the spinach that I ate in the kitchen over four hours ago with the maid from Guatemala?  No.  Merde!  Try again….
Like tonight, I did the usual lack of routine we’ve gotten into a groove with and you decided to switch things up on me.  You decided that tonight, for no apparent reason, you would prefer NO rocking, bouncing, or swaying to any lullabies or sound at all.  In fact, you preferred to just be left alone to cry for about two minutes in your bassinet and then you went to sleep.  For.  An.  Hour.  Now you are asleep again, with a few minutes of rocking.  Just keeping me on my toes, I see….keeping it fresh and real.  I appreciate that Pony.  I hate getting stuck in a rut myself.  Good to break things up a bit. Keep em guessing I always say!!  And boy do you keep me guessing.
Please Pony, please, for the love of God, no raves at 4am tonight.  
Or else your Dad might come home to find me crying softly in the corner with the pacifier(that you hate) in my mouth.

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