Did I say that out loud?
Yeah, I feel bad for the guy and everything. The whole thing sucks, but man, the thing about social media is that poor dead horse!
Let’s talk about unicorns, and rainbows. Or something that shits rainbows and unicorns, my cute and loveable daughter, who just turned nine months old yesterday. She’s now been out of my sort of busted uterus, longer than she’s been in. And that’s just weird to me. I found out I was pregnant eighteen months ago. My days fly by in a haze of Groundhog Day, and yet, I can’t even fathom all of that time has passed.
This kid, she’s still mostly sunshine and all that shit. It’s kind of scary. Like maybe she’s one of those evilly happy kids that will come in and suck your soul from your body while you’re sleeping. She does have a pretty decent temper. I find this funny, and also exhausting. But mostly? I find it funny. Because at nine months, what can you possibly be that pissed off about? Not getting picked up right.this.very.instant. And “how DARE you walk away from me, waaaaaaaaaaaahhhhh… wait, slow down so that I can continue to cry and get all red faced and upset so that I get my way.”
Lucky for us, she ended up with a case of RSV and a double ear infection. Just in time for the Meester to go away for another three days, so that I was stuck in the house again. I felt really bad for her. Unlike the Mini, she is a very pitiful and very dramatic sick baby. I’m not saying I blame her. I’d be hating life too, but the sheer RAGE that would wash over her when she would have a coughing fit was impressive. Her logical thinking skills are far superior than the average baby. The RAGE would cause her to physically try to not cough, and she’d hold her breath, and when that didn’t work, she’d grunt, and shake her fists in fury. When that didn’t work, she was all “fuck logic,” and instead would climb into my lap and lay there pitifully. She spent Monday night in our bed, draped across my body. I will admit, it takes a lot of mental preparation for me to drag two kids out of the house in the dead of winter. Especially kids that argue and whine about the constant game we play called “coats on, coats off.” It’s a huge source of anxiety for me, but I like having that option and I haven’t for two weeks. And “blublubablubablubabluba” (that’s me running my finger over my lips in a fit of crazy, in case you weren’t able to decipher)
Let’s just say I never want to deal with RSV again.
She is every bit of what her brother is not. And I mean that in the best way possible. This month, she completed a milestone that I was fraught with worry over. One that rivaled my white knuckles gripping the seat of a turbulent 737. Pointing. With the Mini, I had no idea how big of a milestone this was until our pediatrician was concerned about his lack of pointing at 15 months. She started pointing a few weeks ago, and points at everything. She points to get her needs met. She points at things that strike her interest. She points at things and looks at me inquisitively. She actually pointed at me the other day and said “Mama!” (which oh my god, is THIS what I’ve been missing all of these years? I fall down and go boom!) This was something that even when the Mini did finally point, it wasn’t the way that she does. Maybe this is a girl thing. Maybe this is because she is way more of a social creature than her brother, who is every bit like his father in regards to his anti-social nature. Who knows.
Our next big milestone, I think, will be walking. I’m pretty sure she’ll be an early walker, but if she’s not, this isn’t a big deal. She may very well be happy commuting around on her hands and knees and cruising. On some level, her walking will make my life a bit easier, but on another level, it will forever mean that my baby is fast approaching toddlerhood and will no longer be a baby. Not to mention, the whole falling thing. I hate the fact that babies spend approximately six to twelve months with a black and blue face. I’m a lot less anxiety ridden about her falling and hurting herself, since I’ve played this gig before, but it still sucks and I’d be an asshole if I didn’t suffer from at least a little anxiety over it.
She’s been so good for the Mini socially. She’s helped him in ways that we couldn’t have ever thought possibly. Some for good. Some for bad, but the bad had to happen, so I thank her for that. She definitely wanted to be born and was born for a reason. She’s willful, stubborn, funny, loving, and overall just a really awesome kid. I never thought I’d love having a daughter as much as I have. I’ll admit, we were so both rooting for having another boy, but deep in my heart, I knew it was a girl. It took me a long time to get used to having a girl, and she already ROLLS HER EYES AT ME. But she manages to melt my heart at the same time. I can’t wait for the teenage years, where she spends half of her time hating me and cursing me because I won’t let her dress like a whore, and the other half of the time crying on my shoulder over a boy and being my shopping partner.
Well, once she gets over the fact that I’m going to dress her like an Amish school girl until she goes off to college.