I'm zombier today. I cleaned the house yesterday, but that must have been a different house. I'm in quicksand right now. Every move I make seems to make our house dirtier. I got chocolate coated rice crackers on the couch. Not my idea, but as hard as I try to clean it all up, other messes seem to multiply.
Our kitchen looks like an after kegger. It was fine this morning, but again, each of my movements seems to add another stroke of filth. And the baby must have found where I keep my stash of meth. I try to put dishes away but The Koala whines and points to her pee parts and I've been rushing to sit her on the toilet. As soon as I do, she giggles and wants off and then pees on the floor when I'm not looking.
My kid just took off all of her clothes and is prancing around in pee soaked socks.
I miss yesterday.
Update: I realized much later that the Koala had gotten into the chocolate rice crackers. I got nothing done today. I spent a good amount of time lying in bed just letting the Koala jump on me to burn off the sugar high.
Thursday, March 31, 2016
Searching
I have been trying to find my sunglasses, but every time I try to peer under the couch, the Koala attempts the same move by squeezing herself between me and the couch. And she turns her head to me like the masterful spelunker to confirm her findings with her big bright eyes. Da!
Work it Out
M does yoga daily after waking up and then right before bed. In we-have-a-toddler terms, that means M stretches as best as she can for about five minutes and spends about 10 untwisting herself from the Koala and begging for just one more pose to herself.
I already don't love working out and I especially dislike burpees, but my new Toddler fitness trainer shows me I must really want to stay fit if I can keep doing it under her guidance.
When I do pushups, I have to set up her shapes in the holes puzzle such that I can get a good 90 seconds to do 25 pushups before she figures it all out and bolts underneath me, lays flat on her belly and starts workout grunting. Sometimes she's faster which means I pushup around her. Sometimes she kicks my nuts, but I keep going anyway.
She pushes me through abwork by sitting on my belly while I do leg lifts or crunches. A lot of the times, she mashes her feet into my face while I do it. It intensifies the core work.
She's not strong enough to grab and hold onto my legs while I do pullups, but she tries and it sucks. Mostly though, it's a lot of crying until I lift her up to the bar and let her do a couple reps.
Jumping jacks just plain blow. She insists that I carry her while we do 100 jumping jacks, but I have to do it in a way that allows her arms to be free but doesn't bang her head into mine. My calves. They feel the burn.
It's an unbelievably complex dimension added to my workouts. I don't even remember what other exercises I do. It's all just a big blur with a baby on top.
I already don't love working out and I especially dislike burpees, but my new Toddler fitness trainer shows me I must really want to stay fit if I can keep doing it under her guidance.
When I do pushups, I have to set up her shapes in the holes puzzle such that I can get a good 90 seconds to do 25 pushups before she figures it all out and bolts underneath me, lays flat on her belly and starts workout grunting. Sometimes she's faster which means I pushup around her. Sometimes she kicks my nuts, but I keep going anyway.
She pushes me through abwork by sitting on my belly while I do leg lifts or crunches. A lot of the times, she mashes her feet into my face while I do it. It intensifies the core work.
She's not strong enough to grab and hold onto my legs while I do pullups, but she tries and it sucks. Mostly though, it's a lot of crying until I lift her up to the bar and let her do a couple reps.
Jumping jacks just plain blow. She insists that I carry her while we do 100 jumping jacks, but I have to do it in a way that allows her arms to be free but doesn't bang her head into mine. My calves. They feel the burn.
It's an unbelievably complex dimension added to my workouts. I don't even remember what other exercises I do. It's all just a big blur with a baby on top.
Wednesday, March 30, 2016
Grey's Another Day
M said this to me today: I would love to watch Grey's, but I don't see it happening so I'm going down.
We're on Grey's Anatomy Season 12. We just got done watching Avery divorce dumbhead. And the episodes before that in which Meredith almost dies again and tries to outsmart work mandated therapy one more time. If we're lucky, we can squeeze in 30 minutes before the Koala stirs and wakes to realize that we've been sucked up by a black hole. M usually puts her back down. If we're lucky, we can unpause after about 10 minutes. Most of the time though it's Grey's interruptus.
We don't go out to dinner any more because it's right in the red zone. Breakfast is tricky. We went skating for 90 minutes three weeks ago without kid and dog and it felt dangerously luxurious. Sneaking Grey's is what little we have left.
M took another one for the team today.
We're on Grey's Anatomy Season 12. We just got done watching Avery divorce dumbhead. And the episodes before that in which Meredith almost dies again and tries to outsmart work mandated therapy one more time. If we're lucky, we can squeeze in 30 minutes before the Koala stirs and wakes to realize that we've been sucked up by a black hole. M usually puts her back down. If we're lucky, we can unpause after about 10 minutes. Most of the time though it's Grey's interruptus.
We don't go out to dinner any more because it's right in the red zone. Breakfast is tricky. We went skating for 90 minutes three weeks ago without kid and dog and it felt dangerously luxurious. Sneaking Grey's is what little we have left.
M took another one for the team today.
Yesterday
The plan the night before was pretty simple.
I wake up at 6, get dressed, go for a run with The Cos. Come back, take a shower get ready. M wakes up at 7, gets dressed, goes for a run with The Cos. I take over baby, dog and house duties and M works on her paper until 11 am and then I go to work.
*****
What really happened.
M woke me up a little before 7. I must have slept through my alarm or turned it off or ANDROID! The baby woke up shortly after, M went back to put her down, M fell asleep. I fell asleep. Next thing I know, it's 7:40, no run for me. Exhausted. I tried to take a shower, but couldn't stand, so bath. Tried not to fall asleep in the tub.
Got dressed and took the dog out. The dog was disgusted at me for not taking her out to pee sooner. I got back and the women were awake. I took over baby duty. M did yoga. We all had breakfast at the table together.
M sequestered herself. The Koala and I cleaned the house. M had taught the Koala how to participate in housework and she is rather lovely about it: loading and unloading the washing machine and dishwasher; wiping surfaces; putting things away; finding things she thinks you need, such as stray almonds. She is an excellent buddy this way.
I got ready for work, then M took over. It was hard to leave all of them. The Koala does this thing now when waving goodbye of popeye side smiling and partial winking, doesn't say a word. It's heartbreaking.
Work is now less work than home and it's actually relaxing because I can simply communicate directly and I do what I need to do without fuss instead of constantly navigating around the tiniest and most intrepid explorer and all of the things she finds and releases into the house. And not a single one of my students periodically begs me to carry them.
On my way home, I ran into our downstairs neighbors. The wife seems to relish in pointing out how tired I always look.
M had made dinner, but I had already eaten on the train, so she was disappointed. They were just finishing up as I arrived.
There was a bottle of Fritz cola on the counter and I turned around and it was empty. I asked M if she was able to drink it that fast, she said, "no, I just now watched you drink it."
We let the Koala run wild and free for a bit and then bath time.
M went for a run with the Cos. I put the baby to bed then we both spaced out for a while. I took the Cos out again for a 5k. It was supposed to be 30 minutes, but I ran out of steam midway and had a hard time walking back, the entire time thinking about food. It took more than an hour to get back and by then it was really late. Our dog was happy.
I made some kind of hybrid mashup of M's pasta and hot dogs. I crashed at 1 am. Woke up today at 6.
I wake up at 6, get dressed, go for a run with The Cos. Come back, take a shower get ready. M wakes up at 7, gets dressed, goes for a run with The Cos. I take over baby, dog and house duties and M works on her paper until 11 am and then I go to work.
*****
What really happened.
M woke me up a little before 7. I must have slept through my alarm or turned it off or ANDROID! The baby woke up shortly after, M went back to put her down, M fell asleep. I fell asleep. Next thing I know, it's 7:40, no run for me. Exhausted. I tried to take a shower, but couldn't stand, so bath. Tried not to fall asleep in the tub.
Got dressed and took the dog out. The dog was disgusted at me for not taking her out to pee sooner. I got back and the women were awake. I took over baby duty. M did yoga. We all had breakfast at the table together.
M sequestered herself. The Koala and I cleaned the house. M had taught the Koala how to participate in housework and she is rather lovely about it: loading and unloading the washing machine and dishwasher; wiping surfaces; putting things away; finding things she thinks you need, such as stray almonds. She is an excellent buddy this way.
I got ready for work, then M took over. It was hard to leave all of them. The Koala does this thing now when waving goodbye of popeye side smiling and partial winking, doesn't say a word. It's heartbreaking.
Work is now less work than home and it's actually relaxing because I can simply communicate directly and I do what I need to do without fuss instead of constantly navigating around the tiniest and most intrepid explorer and all of the things she finds and releases into the house. And not a single one of my students periodically begs me to carry them.
On my way home, I ran into our downstairs neighbors. The wife seems to relish in pointing out how tired I always look.
M had made dinner, but I had already eaten on the train, so she was disappointed. They were just finishing up as I arrived.
There was a bottle of Fritz cola on the counter and I turned around and it was empty. I asked M if she was able to drink it that fast, she said, "no, I just now watched you drink it."
M went for a run with the Cos. I put the baby to bed then we both spaced out for a while. I took the Cos out again for a 5k. It was supposed to be 30 minutes, but I ran out of steam midway and had a hard time walking back, the entire time thinking about food. It took more than an hour to get back and by then it was really late. Our dog was happy.
I made some kind of hybrid mashup of M's pasta and hot dogs. I crashed at 1 am. Woke up today at 6.
Tuesday, March 29, 2016
Pee Butt
I hadn't realized until now that I wrote the entire previous blog post sitting on a big pee spot on our couch.
Sleepwaker
I don't have a pipe or a den or a thing about whiskey. I've got no energy left for nordic walking. I also don't have a muscle car on blocks that I'm working on out back. I live in Europe, so my choices are go to a cafe and smoke or put on deodorant. The two are mutually exclusive here. I do neither. So that means when my wife and I aren't rearing a child, I spend my free time on the computer pretty much spacing out.
I came home at lunch today and made a rest of the day plan with M. It was pretty simple: baby is exhausted, M puts the baby to sleep, I sit at the computer, M takes The Cos to a cafe to write a paper, I stay sitting at the computer. Sounds good, right?
First thing that happened, The Koala pressed buttons on the super advanced electronic washer/dryer which locked our wet clothes in the machine until they rot. M and I both screamed and started pushing other buttons in an effort to unlock the secret moves. Didn't work. The Koala stood there silently hitting herself in the head.
After other time sucking activities related to chasing the baby and putting diapers on, M went into the bedroom to put her down. After about five or so minutes of trying to read an excruciatingly long email with separate postscript from my very good friend Justine Klineman, M opened the door and as always, I held my breath to see if she was walking out alone. She was alone! And then I heard the tell tale pitter patter on the floor with giggling right behind her.
I got myself bundled up, put the baby in the sling, bundled up the baby, played hello/goodbye with her mother and we went out for the fall asleep walk. It wasn't easy because our neighborhood is Kandahar in the daytime, starring angry retirees in loud cars battling each other for the right to be indignant, beeping and banging delivery trucks and early bird construction crews. She went down after 10 minutes of bounce walking. I returned while M stood by to breastfeed in case the final put down from sling to bed imploded. I crept quietly into the room, I whispered the dog into the other room, I was smoother than a cat burglar. I delicately unwrapped her without disturbance, knelt on the bed and ever so gently, soooo gently put her down. She stirred and opened her eyes, but I communicated via my mind alone, you don't see me, you are sleeping. And she went down to sleep. Silent touchdown dance.
Maxi took the dog and left. Seven minutes later, I heard wailing. Motherfucker. Seven minutes?
Okay okay okay. I took a deep breath, love love love love and kindness emanating from all of my nerves. Picked up the baby, laid with the baby, rocked the baby. The baby screamed like she was being sacrificed by that Bible 1.0 dude Abraham whom God told, bro, do me a favor and show your devotion, kill your favorite son Isaac for me. So back in the sling. Back in the warm sleepy vest. Walk the fuck around the house, shutting all the windows, setting up a protective sleepy force field. Baby is nigh nigh after 15 long minutes of stirring, checking, escaping, wriggling, worming, crying and reaching.
And once again, I quietly put her down like a reverse thief in the night, smooth ninja cat burglar, yodda yodda. She woke up, but I blasted her again with the mind messages and then she drifted back to sleep. No touchdown dance.
10 minutes later. I saw the shadows of her little scurrying feet under the door. My heart stopped and I froze, sending more mental sleepy messages. The little feet stood still and then WAAAAAAAAAAAAH.
Breathing. Centering. Punching hole in wall.
I opened the door. Only this time, all the love was gone. I was just robot dad set to firm, but gentle. I put her back in the sling, back in the vest. Walked around the house. Even with the TRIPLE GLAZED windows closed, Kandahar is loud, even louder because school had just let out. I was dealing with extreme baby ambivalence. She was exhausted, but she just couldn't sleep, so more fighting, more arms, more legs, more of everything and I just stayed robot dad, bouncing in the sling and sleepy vest for about 10 long minutes until I cracked and let out an AAAAGHHH! It got silent. Arms went slowly back in the sling and I felt terrible. I stood in one of the darkest spot of our house swaying and bouncing for another 15 minutes.
Of course our baby can't sleep all the time, our house is loud. We have a corner house across a very narrow one lane, bidirectional road from a grocery store that receives deliveries all day. Not to mention the entitled customers who battle it out over the three parking spots in front. Our house is also positioned at a deliberate bottleneck that gets bunged up all the time with infuriated drivers. Thankfully, we're moving in a month.
All the police would have to do, after they cleaned up all the blood and bodies would be to look at this blog. They'd see and know. And we'd have talk shows about how to prevent mass slaughters by foreigners.
She finally fell asleep. By that point, at least two hours had passed since M left and it was just a blur of bouncing and shushing. The afternoon was winding down into dinner and I felt like a monster for losing my patience.
M and the dog came home a short time later. M has been drained for a good 16 months and we both folded on the couch together. It was time to make dinner and just as I was getting ready, the baby started screaming. It was just as well because she loves to hang on me to help me cook.
I came home at lunch today and made a rest of the day plan with M. It was pretty simple: baby is exhausted, M puts the baby to sleep, I sit at the computer, M takes The Cos to a cafe to write a paper, I stay sitting at the computer. Sounds good, right?
First thing that happened, The Koala pressed buttons on the super advanced electronic washer/dryer which locked our wet clothes in the machine until they rot. M and I both screamed and started pushing other buttons in an effort to unlock the secret moves. Didn't work. The Koala stood there silently hitting herself in the head.
After other time sucking activities related to chasing the baby and putting diapers on, M went into the bedroom to put her down. After about five or so minutes of trying to read an excruciatingly long email with separate postscript from my very good friend Justine Klineman, M opened the door and as always, I held my breath to see if she was walking out alone. She was alone! And then I heard the tell tale pitter patter on the floor with giggling right behind her.
I got myself bundled up, put the baby in the sling, bundled up the baby, played hello/goodbye with her mother and we went out for the fall asleep walk. It wasn't easy because our neighborhood is Kandahar in the daytime, starring angry retirees in loud cars battling each other for the right to be indignant, beeping and banging delivery trucks and early bird construction crews. She went down after 10 minutes of bounce walking. I returned while M stood by to breastfeed in case the final put down from sling to bed imploded. I crept quietly into the room, I whispered the dog into the other room, I was smoother than a cat burglar. I delicately unwrapped her without disturbance, knelt on the bed and ever so gently, soooo gently put her down. She stirred and opened her eyes, but I communicated via my mind alone, you don't see me, you are sleeping. And she went down to sleep. Silent touchdown dance.
Maxi took the dog and left. Seven minutes later, I heard wailing. Motherfucker. Seven minutes?
Okay okay okay. I took a deep breath, love love love love and kindness emanating from all of my nerves. Picked up the baby, laid with the baby, rocked the baby. The baby screamed like she was being sacrificed by that Bible 1.0 dude Abraham whom God told, bro, do me a favor and show your devotion, kill your favorite son Isaac for me. So back in the sling. Back in the warm sleepy vest. Walk the fuck around the house, shutting all the windows, setting up a protective sleepy force field. Baby is nigh nigh after 15 long minutes of stirring, checking, escaping, wriggling, worming, crying and reaching.
And once again, I quietly put her down like a reverse thief in the night, smooth ninja cat burglar, yodda yodda. She woke up, but I blasted her again with the mind messages and then she drifted back to sleep. No touchdown dance.
10 minutes later. I saw the shadows of her little scurrying feet under the door. My heart stopped and I froze, sending more mental sleepy messages. The little feet stood still and then WAAAAAAAAAAAAH.
Breathing. Centering. Punching hole in wall.
I opened the door. Only this time, all the love was gone. I was just robot dad set to firm, but gentle. I put her back in the sling, back in the vest. Walked around the house. Even with the TRIPLE GLAZED windows closed, Kandahar is loud, even louder because school had just let out. I was dealing with extreme baby ambivalence. She was exhausted, but she just couldn't sleep, so more fighting, more arms, more legs, more of everything and I just stayed robot dad, bouncing in the sling and sleepy vest for about 10 long minutes until I cracked and let out an AAAAGHHH! It got silent. Arms went slowly back in the sling and I felt terrible. I stood in one of the darkest spot of our house swaying and bouncing for another 15 minutes.
Of course our baby can't sleep all the time, our house is loud. We have a corner house across a very narrow one lane, bidirectional road from a grocery store that receives deliveries all day. Not to mention the entitled customers who battle it out over the three parking spots in front. Our house is also positioned at a deliberate bottleneck that gets bunged up all the time with infuriated drivers. Thankfully, we're moving in a month.
All the police would have to do, after they cleaned up all the blood and bodies would be to look at this blog. They'd see and know. And we'd have talk shows about how to prevent mass slaughters by foreigners.
She finally fell asleep. By that point, at least two hours had passed since M left and it was just a blur of bouncing and shushing. The afternoon was winding down into dinner and I felt like a monster for losing my patience.
M and the dog came home a short time later. M has been drained for a good 16 months and we both folded on the couch together. It was time to make dinner and just as I was getting ready, the baby started screaming. It was just as well because she loves to hang on me to help me cook.
Easter Monday
I opened my eyes two minutes before the Koala, just enough to take a deep breath before she stirred and eventually made her way to sit on my head. The sun beamed through our house, the first such sun we've seen since halloween.
M did yoga and I took the Koala through her morning routine: undress, get out of soggy diapers, protest about the toilet, wriggle all over the place, take a bird bath in the sink, run around the house without pants, get dressed for the day. This could take anywhere from 30 to 90 minutes, depending on when the poo is involved.
If the poo is already in the diaper, we scrape the poo into the toilet, rinse and wring out the diapers, toss them into the diaper hamper. Sucks, but number two is done. Movin' on.
If the Koala and her colon are feeling cooperative, we sit in tandem on the toilet, she does her business, we thank all the gods, sacrifice goats and do touchdown dances for about an hour.
If she doesn't poo, we play a long long long game of Russian Poolette. We hate changing poopy diapers in the wild, so we wait. And we wait.
And we just keep fucking waiting, but this is the sad, same-ending game we've been playing and losing for the last six weeks or so.
Today, we were lucky, the poo came about an hour into the morning, but it was not so robust which meant we'd see more later. But we had to leave.
This my life now. My thoughts are primarily centered around when the baby and the dog last pooed and updating a mental register of the quality and quantity, in addition to my own personal movement register.
Mine was wipeless this morning.
Mine was wipeless this morning.
We went to brunch at the Koala's godparents', a 20 minute walk from our house. M and I had the luxury of eating with both of our hands freed for the purpose of feeding only ourselves. We also didn't have to defer eating to entertain the Koala with an endless game of up the stairs and down the stairs. The godparents took care of it. We could just simply eat like the normies and there were moments when M and I hugged just because we could.
She pood there. It was incredibly ripe.
Her godparents gave her a rocking dinosaur for Easter. She ate lox and goat cheese. Busied herself with her godparents. We had adult conversations and drank liters of coffee. She harassed M for breast, but not like a crackhead. She fell asleep in the stroller on the way home. She stayed asleep after I put her in bed and went back to sleep after a brief freakout about being alone in the universe. M and I actually had quality alone time and we were even able to watch Grey's.
The Koala woke up during Grey's traumatized by her solitude in space/time, but she let us finish watching anyway, as if to say, this one's on me. We changed her, got ourselves bundled up and went for a walk along the river. The Koala and The Cos played ball.
The adults had rice and vegetables for dinner. The Koala had canned tuna and clumps of rice then hounded M for some breasty. We had almost no food on the floor. We all cleaned together. She helped M load and start the dishwasher then ran to help me vacuum. She loves feeling purposeful. The dog kept her distance.
I gave her her bath and second dinner in the bath. We don't know how it happened, but it's incredibly practical. No messy clothes or floor. No fighting for control of the spoon. Just eating in the tub.
After M put her to bed, I went for a quick 5k with The Cos in the pitch dark. It was a excellent night to run and The Cos was free to dog out. The wind picked up as she and I finished up. A golden retriever bolted out of the darkness to play with her, sniff the stuff, but play quickly turned to hey baby, why don't you show me all eight of your titties, to which The Cos replied with some stern condemnation.
Nonetheless the sexual harassment continued and The Cos' condemnation quickly escalated to growling and face biting. I picked her up and started home, but the retriever wouldn't relent and stayed on The Cos' money maker. We were already away from the river and headed home, then in the very dark distance, I heard a whistle in the wind. I walked toward it into the wind to return the retriever to its owner, The Cos in my arms growling, retriever jumping up at us to get a better look at the merch. It seemed like we walked a long way before we made contact with the owner.
The friendly man took his dog as I told him, "I think that my dog is just now in heat."
Monday, March 28, 2016
Anti Roomba
I'd had three cups of coffee and I felt as though I'd just taken an Ambien. Every inch of our house suggests a cat lady might live here, only the cats are imaginary and neither M nor I have the mental energy to clean this house. We had it all once. Clean house. Clean car. Coffee dates. We vacuum at least twice a day, but seem to have fallen into a Sisyphean valley of always vacuuming, but never being clean.
I was lying face down on the fatboy and all I could hear was the sound of our personal Anti-Roomba dropping blocks, tossing the cordless phone willy nilly and scattering the recycling in a whirl of thub thub thubbing throughout the house, while M tried to make some semblance of order in the kitchen. Occasionally, the baby would climb on my back and bounce on me then resume her magical journey through space making sure to redistribute and reposition everything in her grasp.
I laid there a bit taking in the sounds of thunder fairies dropping hard, possibly smartphone like devices on the wood floors. Eventually, too soon and despite any powers of mine or prayers to the universe, her quacking, squealing and giggling will be gradually replaced by an inner dialogue of doubt and her toys will be replaced by her own internal pieces to pick up.
I prayed for the strength, just for five or ten minutes to get up and it was just enough to pick up her toys and put everything away.
I was lying face down on the fatboy and all I could hear was the sound of our personal Anti-Roomba dropping blocks, tossing the cordless phone willy nilly and scattering the recycling in a whirl of thub thub thubbing throughout the house, while M tried to make some semblance of order in the kitchen. Occasionally, the baby would climb on my back and bounce on me then resume her magical journey through space making sure to redistribute and reposition everything in her grasp.
I laid there a bit taking in the sounds of thunder fairies dropping hard, possibly smartphone like devices on the wood floors. Eventually, too soon and despite any powers of mine or prayers to the universe, her quacking, squealing and giggling will be gradually replaced by an inner dialogue of doubt and her toys will be replaced by her own internal pieces to pick up.
I prayed for the strength, just for five or ten minutes to get up and it was just enough to pick up her toys and put everything away.
Sunday, March 27, 2016
Young Faithful
The Koala heard me flush after I got done peeing, dropped her toys, thundered her way to the bathroom and busted the door open with an expectant grin. I had just zipped up my fly and she stared at my crotch excited then looked into the toilet on the verge of laughter, but quickly became disappointed that she had missed seeing me pee.
It thrills her to no end to watch me pee. I was against it at first, but as with most things for the last 16 months, I've given up and given over. I'll leave it up to her to figure out it's creepy.
Saturday, March 26, 2016
Reaching out to a Friend
Hello S,
How you be? You got a kid about the same age as mine right? Still? Yours looks pretty cute, but really, let's talk about a few things. We're looking into selling ours on the black market.
See, my little Koala is a wunderkind and she is as adorable as she is annoying. She must be going through something lately because she's a million times clingier and demanding. Today, she woke up with a heartbroken look on her face that nearly killed me. So we cuddled with her, then she got the love and energy in her and promptly peed on M's yoga mat.
We went to breakfast today. It was good for about three minutes, or until the coffee arrived. Then it was on the chair, off the chair, on the chair, off the chair, cheese, no, cheese!, no, bread, no, water, no, hi people, run into kitchen, hi everybody! crayons, no, CRAYONS, is that hot coffee, coffee, coffeeeeeeee, COFFFFFEEEEEEEE! We had the dog with us as well and she made sure to lay her ass down exactly where the servers walked. Last time we went out to dinner was a month ago. Things were going well until the first course arrived and then nosedived to the point that I had to pay before we got our mains and I stood at the table with baby in hand, scarfing down the food, drinking water straight from the big bottle while M waited outside with the dog.
It's like bringing your pet woodpecker to the symphony. Seems like a totally normal thing to do until you do it. And then the looks from the others come stabbing you in the neck.
M took her and the dog upstairs to the apartment with my keys so she could put her down to sleep this afternoon. I came back from doing groceries across the street for just under 10 minutes. I had to ring the doorbell, but I knew because I am a dad now, that that doorbell would be our misery. I had already muted it a few months ago, but it still causes the dog to bark each time, although we have been training her to treat the doorbell like just another bird in a tree. We carry on like it's not there.
The dog barked. Why does this have to be the Book of Job? I came in to see M deflated, smiling baby in hand. I put the baby in the sling, she fought me until she realized that it's cozy in the sling and fell asleep the second we walked out the door. I set a timer on my watch to be back in bed in 5 minutes, and as soon as I got to the bedroom, she woke up like, hey! What the fuck is going on here? Whatchu tryin to pull over on me! Get me the fuck out of hereeeeeeee!
I hate most parenting blogs. I think I might start my own. If I could get some time at the computer without being harassed.
I chose you to write because you have a baby. Maybe your baby is the kind I have read about. Oh no, totally pleasant all the time. Sleeps through the night, wipes his own ass, totally fine. If that is the case, I raise a glass of turpentine to you.
Love,
Tiny
How you be? You got a kid about the same age as mine right? Still? Yours looks pretty cute, but really, let's talk about a few things. We're looking into selling ours on the black market.
See, my little Koala is a wunderkind and she is as adorable as she is annoying. She must be going through something lately because she's a million times clingier and demanding. Today, she woke up with a heartbroken look on her face that nearly killed me. So we cuddled with her, then she got the love and energy in her and promptly peed on M's yoga mat.
We went to breakfast today. It was good for about three minutes, or until the coffee arrived. Then it was on the chair, off the chair, on the chair, off the chair, cheese, no, cheese!, no, bread, no, water, no, hi people, run into kitchen, hi everybody! crayons, no, CRAYONS, is that hot coffee, coffee, coffeeeeeeee, COFFFFFEEEEEEEE! We had the dog with us as well and she made sure to lay her ass down exactly where the servers walked. Last time we went out to dinner was a month ago. Things were going well until the first course arrived and then nosedived to the point that I had to pay before we got our mains and I stood at the table with baby in hand, scarfing down the food, drinking water straight from the big bottle while M waited outside with the dog.
It's like bringing your pet woodpecker to the symphony. Seems like a totally normal thing to do until you do it. And then the looks from the others come stabbing you in the neck.
M took her and the dog upstairs to the apartment with my keys so she could put her down to sleep this afternoon. I came back from doing groceries across the street for just under 10 minutes. I had to ring the doorbell, but I knew because I am a dad now, that that doorbell would be our misery. I had already muted it a few months ago, but it still causes the dog to bark each time, although we have been training her to treat the doorbell like just another bird in a tree. We carry on like it's not there.
The dog barked. Why does this have to be the Book of Job? I came in to see M deflated, smiling baby in hand. I put the baby in the sling, she fought me until she realized that it's cozy in the sling and fell asleep the second we walked out the door. I set a timer on my watch to be back in bed in 5 minutes, and as soon as I got to the bedroom, she woke up like, hey! What the fuck is going on here? Whatchu tryin to pull over on me! Get me the fuck out of hereeeeeeee!
I hate most parenting blogs. I think I might start my own. If I could get some time at the computer without being harassed.
I chose you to write because you have a baby. Maybe your baby is the kind I have read about. Oh no, totally pleasant all the time. Sleeps through the night, wipes his own ass, totally fine. If that is the case, I raise a glass of turpentine to you.
Love,
Tiny
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