Hi. Forgive me. I would say I’ve been up to my eyeballs in baby sleep drama but that’s not accurate. If you put me at the bottom of a deep, olympic-grade pool and measured from my crown to the surface, that is how far I am up to in baby sleep drama. And other drama. And the fact that school is back, so I am back to my kid teaching job three nights a week, which is surprisingly stressful with a separation anxiety baby who has sleep issues. Anyway, the baby sleep. I have about ten posts I need to write about this journey, seriously. Anyway.
Speaking of baby stuff. Do you know the one place you should never, ever turn to when it comes to baby stuff? Every message board on the internet. The chicks on those things meet one of two criteria: 1) illiterate dingbats who could probably make a killing on Judge Judy or 2) the exact opposite, people who are total mothering all stars who make you feel like dung because you put oxybenzone-laden sunscreen on your kid. If there is a place for normal chicks I seriously need you to comment and tell me where it is, OK? Oh the other thing with the internet boards: ACRONYMS. You all know I have a shaky history with acronyms. I am trying to read something and I spend half the time getting all Rosetta Stoney trying to TRANSLATE a thousand acronyms. DH. DS. Dsomething. EBF. EFF. If anyone ever catches me talking like that I need you to SMUTHWALCIS. (Slap me upside the head with a large cast iron skillet). Although I also swore I’d never refer to my husband, son, and male dog as “my boys” collectively, but I break that rule like every 9 minutes.
Our yard. Whenever you guys catch me bemoaning my recent metamorphoses from cool-urban-childless-20-something to Applebees-guzzling-suburban-soccer-mom, I need you to remind me that we now have a yard. A yard is the most handy thing ever when the baby falls victim to the dreaded car seat poop explosion. You spread out the car seat, diaper, baby outfit, and nude baby and PSSHHHHH everyone gets a high pressure hosing. It’s terrific and it happened this week. Here is the dark side of the yard: last night I was outside taking Chooch out. It was late, very dark, very quiet, Jeff wasn’t home, it was a little eerie. I was standing very still in our driveway; Chooch was also still, sniffing something intensely. Projected on the neighbors’ siding I saw a shadow. It looked exactly like a person, shoulders with a head, but I convinced myself that it was just my anxiety, and it must have been a plant or a car or an AC unit that looked like a person. Then the shadow person moved. I seriously cannot tell you how much it freaked me the eff out and how hard my heart was pounding. In fact it was the shadow of a person, and the person was me. That is the end of this story.
Related to the yard is the woods we have behind our house. They’re beautiful, you can take a stroll in them, I now can’t imagine not living with woods behind me. But they too have a dark side and this one is a lot easier to illustrate cause I can just say BUGS BUGS BUGS OMG BUGS EVERYWHERE and not just little bugs but, like, SCARY BUGS. Scary spiders. Yea. There has been a GINORMOUS SCARY EFFING SPIDER living in a web strung across our basement doorway. You would think I, the large human, could just walk up, swat down the web and be like SEE YOU IN HELL, DEVIL SPIDER, but it’s way too scary for that. Instead every time I take the recycling down I’m like Hhhhheeeyyyyy buddyyyyy. Whatcha got, a little stink bug snack? Yea? That looks good. Give me one sec here I’m just going to throw this….. OK all done here! You just shout if you want some lemonade, bath towels are in the hall closet you just take what you need OK? Because seriously if I anger this organism he will eat our young or set the house on fire or put a horse head in our bed. Or something. He’s that scary.
Also related to home ownership. Jeff (thx Jeff) dropped the crib the other weekend. Frogson hadn’t been standing up yet, but I knew by the book it was an upcoming milestone, and even though I didn’t see it on his immediate horizon we dropped the crib anyway, because we’re intelligent, responsible parents who know that to ensure safety you must anticipate milestones before they happen. Right. THE KID PULLED HIMSELF UP 24 HOURS LATER. One day earlier and he would have been kamikaze-ing out of the thing. Anyway. The lower position exposed a wall socket and obviously that is not the kind of thing you generally want to give an 8 month old access to. On account of the fact that we are working on the ol’ cause and effect concept around here, and that’s a tough assignment to learn on. ANYWAY. Currently it has outlet covers on it, and duct tape over that, but I thought maybe a more attractive solution might be to just deactivate the outlet. I went to Home Depot and a nice gentleman named Bill walked me through it.
“What you’ll want to do is just unscrew the actual socket unit.”
“Then, twist the same colored wires together and clip them off with these wire nuts.”
“Track the wires back, you’ll want to make sure the rest of the floor isn’t on that same panel that you’re disabling.”
BILL THE YOUTUBE VIDEOS MADE IT OUT TO BE MUCH SIMPLER THAN THIS.
This was the moment, friends, no joke, when I overheard an observing couple next to me say to each other, “She shouldn’t be doing this.” Like a fist to the gut. That was all it took for me to put my wire nuts back in the bin and leave dejectedly, with visions of accidental electrocution in my head. Seems we’re living with a duct tape monstrosity because “paying an electrician” is something our budget can maybe accommodate by the time Frogson starts 4th grade.
OK. I could probably blurb more but the pump is calling. Later, gators.