This momma is stressed. My baby girl has been sicky for about 3-4 days. Nothing serious - head cold, teething. Just means a LOT of bodily fluids for me to deal with. A lot. She has literally been leaking from every hole in her face since Sunday. She takes her elderberry syrup like a little champ, munches down her teething tablets and carries on as if nothing is wrong...until I piss her off.
Pissing her off these days is quite easy, actually. Changing her diaper. Taking a choking hazard out of her mouth. Putting her in her bouncy seat when she wants to be on the rug. When I commit any of these sins, I have a little Diana Ross on my hands - DIVA. She is quite adept at going from zero to DIVA in no time flat. Her little fists ball up and she throws her head backwards (one of these days, she's going to learn right-quick that this is not a good idea). She tenses her entire body up and has mini seizures. I swear - that is what it looks like. Simultaneously, of course, she is screaming. Like someone-is-stabbing-her screaming. The moment I correct my behavior, she is all forgiving and all smiles. But holy cow. Diana Ross.
This morning:
5:15 a.m. Call for the boob. I nurse her side-lying (wherein she sounds like a gremlin because she can't breathe through her nose) and we both fall back to sleep.
7:15 a.m. The first hair pull. This is her new (very efficient) way of waking me up. She smiles at me. I forget the hair pull and remember I love her.
7:18 a.m. I have taken as much hair-pulling as I possibly can.
7:19 a.m. I prop her up on the pillow next to my head and put on "her show" (Nick Jr. - the only time I typically let her watch television). I roll back over.
7:45 a.m. Hair pull. I smell her. This is not her typical overnight-soaked diaper. She crapped. God damn it, I can't ignore crap and let her sit in it.
7:50 a.m. Put her on her changing table, cue Diana Ross. Open her sleeper to realize this is not a quick diaper change - she literally has shit ALL over her. Covering her leg. Her foot. Up her stomach. Awesome. Zip her back up into the shit and carry her downstairs to run her tub.
8:00 a.m. (Have not yet peed, brushed my teeth or found my glasses) Diana Ross disappears and my daughter returns in her very nice tub. We play, I wash the crap off of her and she gives me kiss after kiss after kiss.
8:15 a.m. Lay her on the changing table to get her dressed. Diana is back. Great. I can't lie - I get a little mad at Diana. It's way too early and I should be the unhappy one with morning breath and blurry eyes.
8:20 a.m. She goes in her crib to play while I shower.
8:21 a.m. She thinks I have had enough alone time. Let the screaming commence. Forgive me, God, but I turn the shower water on and hop in where I can't hear her.
8:30 a.m. I am showered (if you can call it that in under 5 minutes), half-dressed and my teeth are brushed. I mean, I wouldn't chew one of those tablets that light up your mouth wherever it's disgusting, but they are brushed people. Be happy I am clean.
8:45 Take her downstairs to feed her breakfast because we usually do this BEFORE her tub but the crap got in the way. She eats bananas and then dried organic fruit. There are apples and blueberries. They are both completely dry and taste - eh. (I eat everything I give her - one of the rules I set for myself as a momma). The bag has about 99% apples and 1% blueberries. Guess what little Juliette Grace wants to eat? JUST the blueberries. I feed her bananas and pick out the dried blueberries and give her water, all while dancing to the song playing on my iPhone (she LOVES dancing).
9:00 a.m. Dance party in the kitchen. I play music, we dance, and I act as if there is nothing else I am supposed to do.
9:05 a.m. Sallie Mae calls. Reality check. Shit - that's right. Momma can't pay ALL her student loans every month and she needs to end this dance party and start working so she can at least continue to pay SOME of them.
The next hour and forty-five minutes is quite boring here. I log into work and try to get as much done while entertaining her on the floor next to me with about three gazillion toys (some are wooden and organic and are supposed to help her use her imagination, others light up and beep and make more noise than a damn jazz band). But she only likes to play with my foot. So I sit on the couch and work with my hands and entertain her with my feet. I wish I was kidding.
10:45 a.m. Diaper change. Diana Ross to the EXTREME because now she's tired and hungry. (Sallie Mae calls AGAIN. They are becoming more insistent. Guess I should log on and see how much money I canNOT pay them and then call and explain that to them. Again.)
10:50 a.m. I give her the boob until she is literally boob drunk.
11:00 a.m. Carry her to bed (I am super, super, ridiculously jealous).
11:02 a.m. Make tea that I will never drink (until it's ice cold and disgusting) and get to WORK.
That has been my morning. I am stressed today. I don't know why some days of this don't get to me but other days make me really, really tired. I should be contemplating all of this while working and not blogging though. Hopefully she sleeps for her typical 2 - 3 hour nap so I can regain my sanity and make some money :)
Love,
Momeo and Juliette (aka Diana Ross, Queen DIVA)
XOXO
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