My List

So, as it turns out, people weren’t lying to me, and four months was the major turning point when my baby became not just a baby, but pure magic. I’ll admit it, folks, I didn’t believe you. Sorry about that, but it’s hard to, when NO ONE YOU KNOW has had a kid who screamed like yours did, and you end up assuming that exactly how it is RIGHT NOW is how it’s going to be forever, even though logically that makes no sense, no sense at all. I mean, I don’t know many 15-year-olds who wander the halls of high school screaming incoherently, then pass out cold on the floor while swaddled in a Kiddopotamus product.

Anyway, it wasn’t forever, and now, she is so much fun I almost can’t wait for the day to begin. The laughing! The roly-poly thighs that demand to be eaten! The giggling while she’s being kissed! She loves it when her daddy talks business, and there’s nothing funnier than watching her giggle wildly while he recounts a meeting at work in a Very Serious Tone. The second he starts to pay attention to her and talk to her in Baby Voice, she loses interest and gets frustrated. The kid’s going to be a sucker for the Very Long Board Meeting, I can tell.

Of course, all this joy means that I want another baby now now now. Is now good for you? Okay then. NOW. And thank Jesus for things like LOGIC and ADAM and oh yes, BREASTFEEDING IMPEDING MY FERTILITY, because I realize that another baby right, um, now, is pretty much the stupidest idea in the world. This is why I tend to put on weight, my friends. One cupcake is never enough. I need the whole DOZEN in order to be satisfied, and even then, I’ll go on a cupcake BENDER and make cupcakes every day until I never want to see another cupcake again. Something tells me it’s a bad idea to repeat this pattern with children. Not that I’m giving up on more, because oh no, there will be more. Just not, you know, six dozen.

Onward! Things could not be less thrilling over here, what with the constant baby-wrangling and playgroup-attending and I am embarrassed at the mundane nature of my life right now, but boy howdy, am I ever happy. I’ve made comments before about how little of my old life I miss, and that I don’t sit around wistfully thinking of Things I Should Have Appreciated, but there ARE a few things I think about occasionally that I’d almost forgotten about, but will surely recapture some day:

- Reading. I haven’t read more than five pages of a non-baby-related book in months. The last book I read cover to cover was the No-Cry Sleep Solution by Elizabeth Pantley, and while informative, it wasn’t exactly thrilling, unless you count learning more about your child’s sleep habits to be up there with Sookie Stackhouse.

- Cooking. I’ve made eggs. And re-heated things. Oh, and made tuna salad for sandwiches. Miss miss miss cooking, like a whole lot. Also miss eating non-reheated things desperately.

- Cleaning. No, really. My standards have dropped, and though I still clean the toilets, I cannot believe how FAST I clean them, which leaves me wondering if I’m getting all the important bits, or if we continue to sit on Lingering Pee Molecules. See also: showering. Also, fun fact: my kid likes me less when I’m showered. Apparently I smell more mom-like when I’m at my dirtiest.

- A Caribbean and/or Mediterranean vacation. I’ve had a vacation fund going for a while now, and normally it’s the kind of thing I’d be all excited about, because we could finally get back to turquoise water-lounging, napping and beach reading. Excuse me while I go laugh until I pee myself. Because riiiiight. I’m thinking that’s a more appropriate goal for, say, 2035.

- Writing. God bless you for reading this and/or anything I cobble together, because my skillz are RUSTY. Not to mention I don’t have time to edit for shit, so I’ve sent more illiterate e-mails than not lately. The novel I started? HA HA. So on hold right now.

Oddly, sleep is not on this list. Why? Because, and I don’t even want to say this out loud, but co-sleeping has, for the moment, solved all of my problems. I’m not WELL RESTED, per se, but I am functional enough to be happy, and here’s a dirty little first-kid joy I’ll tell you about: for her morning nap, I have started to simply bring her back to bed with me, where we sleep together for a good two hours and sometimes, as a result, we don’t get up for the day until 10:30. She would NEVER sleep that long on her own, but frankly — and this is where people tell me I’m screwing up — I DO NOT CARE. I’m still in guerrilla mode, where I obtain sleep by any means necessary and besides, it’s SO snuggly and nice.

People warned me not to do a lot of things that have already worked themselves out with a little help from mama, and I know sleeping will, too. Yes, yes, it will be hard, and yes, she’ll probably sleep in our bed longer than most people would like, but you know, in the blink of an eye, she’s going to be sixteen and telling me she hates me just before slamming the door in my face because I wouldn’t buy her the sweatpants that say “Juicy” on the ass. And since I only have one kid and can get away with making such grievous errors, as no one else is clamoring for my attention, I’m going to go ahead and do so with pleasure.

I mean, if this was your kid, wouldn’t you?

Yes, yes, she’s losing her hair. Yes, it’s sad. But also kind of a little bit funny, as she rocks her half-bald look.

Happy Wednesday!

*The Killers.

33 comments July 7th, 2009