It's still really cold here, and it looks like they've cancelled the balmy upper-30s forecast I've been so looking forward to. Jerks.
This has been one of those days. When GH came home for lunch I was tempted to make him stay here and go do his job for the rest of the day.
The Dark Lord is supposed to be taking a nap. Instead I can hear him upstairs, body-slamming his pillow over and over and over and over and over and over again. Any day now his 36 pound self is going to crack the flimsy piece of IKEA particleboard that's under his crib mattress into two pieces. And it will SERVE HIM RIGHT. Also he keeps jumping off the couch and I'm pretty sure he's going to go through the floor boards one of these times. I
punished disciplined taught him that the consequence of such consisted of me turning off his Mickey's Once upon a Christmas show and banning him from the couch. He totally did not appear to get what was happening. "But whhhhyyyy???? I need my shooooo-ooooooow!!!!"
I managed to get in the shower today. Usually I would not bother, but we are going to visit friends tonight so I needed to not smell. And of course as soon as I get out of the shower the baby always wakes up and starts crying, which is why my hair dries funny and I walk around with flat stringy frizz on my head instead of curls. Is it really, really so impossible to wash and style one's hair? Seriously! I don't even want to do it every day, twice a week is plenty!
When the wake-up and crying started this time, though, I got creative. I set Loki up in his bouncy seat, held his bottle in my right hand and diffused my hair with my left. And for anyone who wants to have a go at me for not cuddling my baby while feeding him, I did make occasional eye contact. So shut up. Was feeling really proud of my in-a-pinch solution until I turned the blow dryer off and lifted Loki out of his seat to find that I'd thrown my neck out.
I know it's bad when it's lunch time and I find myself saying the words, "NO, I will NOT peel your orange for you, your father can do it. I am going to SIT here and eat your rejected breakfast as my lunch because I AM AN ADULT WOMAN AND I GET TO EAT MY LUNCH IF I WANT TO!!!!" (Note: No I don't.)
I suppose this is to offer some balance to the moments when The Tiny Dark Lord is being an absolute angel, like he was the other night at dinner when I served him chicken noodle soup. Instead of tasting and then rejecting it, which I fully expected him to do, he ate every last bite, even the vegetables, all the while commenting on how good it all was. "Mmmm, I love the noodles. I love the peas. I love the carrots. That's a good meal!"
That's the only reason why he's not sitting on the front porch right now. Even though I was tempted when my mom suggested it as a solution.
|I want one of these.|