She's Come Undone and Also Unhinged
February 23, 2006
Yes, I'd love to post an entry too. Would LOVE it. Would find it DELIGHTFUL.
But it's kind of hard, what with all the sobbing helplessly at my desk and the stress and the let's-not-get-fired nonsense and also, I found out this morning that my daycare center requires a doctor's note for Pedialyte.
PEDIALYTE, WHICH IS FUCKING GATORADE. YOU BUY IT AT THE GROCERY STORE. SHOULD I PROVIDE A NOTE FOR FORMULA TOO NOW? I AM NOT DRAGGING MY CHILD TO THE DOCTOR OVER EVERY CASE OF THE RUNS WHAT WITH A $20 CO-PAY AND A $15 FORM FEE AND MISSED WORK JUST TO GET YOU A FORM TO COVER YOUR ASS BECAUSE OF MY INSANE DESIRE TO MAKE SURE MY BABY IS PROPERLY REHYDRATED, ESPECIALLY SINCE HE GOT THE DIARRHEA FROM YOUR CENTER IN THE FIRST PLACE. AN OUNCE OR TWO IS ALL I WAS ASKING AND I'D APPRECIATE IT IF YOU STOPPED ACTING LIKE I WANTED YOU TO ROLL HIM SOME SWEET, SWEET MEDICINAL MARIJUANA.
NEXT TIME I AM LYING AND CALLING IT APPLE JUICE AND YOU CAN SUCK IT.
What, is the yelling a bit much?
Now, before anybody dares jump on me about sending a baby with diarrhea to daycare, I would like to tell you that 1) he's totally fine now but I was just trying to be Safe with the Precautionary Measures and the Just In Case-ness, and 2) you can suck it too, I'm cranky.
I'm going to look at some baby pictures now. You can look at them too, I suppose.
Noah loves Ceiba all of a sudden. He tries to hug and kiss her and everything. I think she likes him too, and I will not spoil this sweet caption by telling you what exactly I caught her licking off of Noah's bouncy seat cover last night, although if you read the beginning of this entry a few dozen times I think you can guess, and yes, we do remember to feed her real food, at least most of the time.
(Also, look! We have matching chins!)
Noah, seen here taking a break from gouging out chunks of flesh with his fingernails. And rehydrating.
Yo, why you gotta be all up in my grill, beyotch?
I would like to state for the record that this child? Smiles and laughs all the damn time. Look at him, and behold the dimples. Talk to him, and watch him laugh like a loon. Point a camera at him and be rewarded with a blank, drooly look at simply says, "a-durrrrrrrrrr."
Close enough. I feel mostly better now.