I am not sure in which part of life
I determined that it would be a great time to have a baby, but I assure you it
must have been when I was fully rested. Because I sure wasn't Monday
night, and I am not today, thanks to a little thing I like to call break Mommy
down to where she has to eat Nutella from a spoon at 3 am. The evening
started off much like all of the others. Miss Emma was doing her thing
when we asked her to please stop turning on the Playstation and to remove her
body from the kitchen cabinet. We thought dinner might appease her - the
finest of hamburger steak, straight up from the fresh produce section steamed
broccoli and something called "baby cakes," which were a cutesy way
of saying Jewish potato cakes or something?
Well. No. She likes to
have carrots, so I pulled that rabbit out of the fridge and she ate some
carrots. And she likes things with a sauce. Oops. Her
delicate palate received none of that and I'm guessing she was a bit hungry
when she woke up standing and yelling and crying like an animal at 1 am.
My plan of feeding her what we eat and not succumbing to the culinary desires
of a 19 month old maybe didn't work out so well, as I had just gotten to sleep
when it awoke. No amount of shushing worked, though she did stop drop and
roll a couple of times.
Either
way, Mama Bear is about to fall asleep at the unemployment office once my
bosses realize how sleepy I am.
Bless Emma's heart, she wakes up all
jazzed and ready to start her day. I wake up and almost put David in a
headlock. We wake differently it seems.
Saturday was Mom's birthday.
We celebrated by really doing nothing but having some fish tacos and almost
putting Emma up for adoption (of course not!!!). I miss her a lot and
really think she would love Emma more than life. It just sucks and it
will suck next year and the next. So, not sure why I keep saying
it...Pity party busted.
Gracie turned 9 years old on Monday
- my St. Patrick's Day puppy. Can't believe she's that old. I have
had her since she was 8 weeks old and she was the cutest little brownest
fluffiest thing and I love that dog so so sooo very much. She was my girl
when Mom got sick and then when Mom passed away. She moved houses, met a
David and got a baby. Lots of stuff going on in Gracie's world.
Happy Birthday Caroline Grace!
I am super excelling at my newfound
idea to not eat lunch out for Lent. This means I am saving a butt ton of
money and it seems to be a good way to live. Though, there's gonna be a
day when I just need Chipotle. Thankfully it is not today!
Emma is 19 months old and we are
already thinking about her education. Probably should do more of this
teaching thing at home with her, but she wants to eat her books and rips the
flashcards from our hands. And, if we can get the paci out of her mouth,
she's either mute or screaming. No time for word repetition.
Clara: "tell mommy what the cow
says Em"
Emma:
Clara: "can you say
apple?"
Emma:
Emma (walking around
aimlessly): "noooooo"
I know she knows and I know she can,
but she won't.
But
I am sooooo very much wanting to send her to this school we'll call
Trinity. And it's not a public school, which means money shall fall from
the sky and we'll use it for tuition. And it's just kindergarten.
Which should mean, happy joy doesn't matter if it's public or private because
they are but little kids. However, it sets the stage for her future
educational endeavors. And I want her to love to learn and want to learn
and be learning with other people who will learn and push her to learn.
My alumni status of the city schools says that this might not happen in the
free route of schooling. Supposedly
Supposedly I have 4 years to figure
it out, but worry worry. Next thing you know, I'll be helicoptering all
over colleges and the Pottery Barn Kids (oh wait.).
Whatever. I am so over
it. Until tomorrow. Or tonight at least.
Emma celebrated St Patrick's Day in
style, wearing green and pitching a fit. All good. She ate a couple
of pieces of cabbage, which made her fart a few times. She thought it was
hilarious and said something about "I poot." I think. I
can't understand my own kid sometimes.
She is into everything, climbing
onto anything (she climbed onto the dog gate, knocked it over and then said
"noooo", as if it wasn't her fault). She makes us laugh, she
makes us frustrated, but she is amazing and we couldn't imagine her not being
here.
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