My Life: Seussisized

Here is a day, a day in the life
a day in the life
of this mother and wife.

Daddy leaves early in the day,
off to earn some workish pay.
Leaving mom and babe to play, play, play.

Mom hears her baby cry and cry,
calm her, calm her, she does try.
With toys and games, she does ply.

Mommy says: Come on Baby, stop, stop, stop.
Stop and eat some delicious schlopp.
Delicious schlopp with squished fruit on top.

Baby's food she loves to drop.
Schloppy mess cleaned with a mop.
Drop food, drop food, plop, plop, plop.

Sleepy baby, whiny baby, snorey snore snore.
Nap time, nap time, close the door.
Caffeine, caffeine, mom needs some more.

Diaper blow out, it's everywhere,
khaki goop in baby's hair.
Mommy gags it's just not fair.

Daddy comes home, he's ready for fun.
But he wonders what his wife has done.
Supper? Clean house? he finds not one.

Baby, baby, she wants to play,
a bath, a meal, some songs mom say
sleepy time, sleepy time, so down she lay.

After this day Mommy's about to pop.
On the couch she needs to flop.
hop, drop, plop, mop, flop, pop, stop!

Wah Wah Wahwahwahwah

I realized today that in my house I've become that teacher in the Charlie Brown cartoons. You know, the one that talks all the time and says nothing except "wah wah wahwahwahwah."

I tell my baby not to rip the cover off my computer/scream blue murder/lick mommy's flip flops. wah wah wahwahwahwah.

I tell my cat to move his skinny ass out of the way of hurricane Brynn. wah wah wahwahwahwah.

I tell my husband what happened that day while he was at work. wah wah wahwahwahwah.

I can only hope that this is just a phase because I really don't wah wah wahwahwahwah.

Wah

Livin' the Dream

Back in the days before I got pregnant, I had this mental image of how things were going to be once we had a baby.

Firstly, I was going to come out of the hospital looking like a frigging supermodel, or at the very least like my normal, pre-pregnancy self. (snort!) And secondly, I was going to have plenty of time and energy: clean house, gourmet meals, immaculately groomed mother and child, etc. (confession: this never happened even before I got pregnant so I realize it was ridiculously unlikely but whatever...a girl can dream.)

Since I don't have a lot of time and/or energy, the whole June Cleaver gig went by the wayside rather quickly. I don't have floors you can eat off of. You don't want to drop your toothbrush in my toilet, shrug your shoulders and brush your teeth anyway and you most certainly aren't going to be blown away by my culinary prowess. I'm happy when I manage a lasagna because my little angel is high maintenance. As for the supermodel/pre-pregnancy fallacy...don't even get me started. Topic for another post. One that I'll write after saving up calories for weeks so I can drown my sorrows in a drink or two as I mourn my increased size.

So no, we don't all sit around the dinner table like the Cleaver family chatting about our day while baby Brynn gurgles and burbles charmingly. Evenings are chaotic affairs at best until Brynn goes to bed around 8 and I count myself lucky if I don't end up eating my chicken skewered on my fork like a bloody corn dog while cleaning the house or feeding Her Babiness. Yumm! Meat on a stick.

Stop laughing. I've actually eaten supper like that. I'm livin' the dream, baby, I'm livin' the dream. Who's, I don't know, but it is bound to be somebody's...