It's Just Not Me

The other day I was clicking through some other mom blogs just for the fun of it. I couldn't help but be shamed by the crafty, organized mothers out there who make their own cloth diapers while wrangling, you know, twenty small children. I, to say the least, am not that organized. Sometimes, when I see something misshapen and green crawling out of the refrigerator, I wonder if I will ever be able to catch up on my daily household chores. The ones where I actually wash the dishes instead of watching them slowly solidify into a crusty mound in the sink. Good thing my hubby does dishes (God bless him)!

It's shameful because I only have one child, who is most definitely not high-maintenance. In fact, she can entertain herself quite well when the need arises. It's just that I have a hopeless aversion to dish washing, toilet bowl scrubbing and vacuuming. I do them (every blue moon or so); I just don't like to. Same goes for being all crafty and making my own baby clothes or hand carving my daughter's crib from a tree cut out of our own backyard. It's just not me.

Lest you think that I am the laziest person that ever walked the planet, I do enjoy scrapbooking and recording my daughter's milestones in a handy little book my mom gave me. Which reminds me I need to write about her seven month milestones before she hits eight months. Could get confusing after that. One day my daughter will be able to look back and say, "My mama may have let the dishes pile up and the toilet turn green, but she didn't forget when my first tooth came in, or what day I was born on!"

First and only page of CiCi's scrapbook. It takes awhile for ideas to germinate. In this case 3 or 4 months.

Incredibly, adorable baby blankie made by my MIL for CiCi. I love her and hate her at the same time. Note the rings attached to the ribbons around the edge of the blanket. Too cute! And CiCi loves it!

The Great Naptime Conundrum

To nap, or not to nap? That is the baby's question. The mommy's question is: to take Excedrin Migraine, or to take Extra Strength Advil? Once upon a time, in a happy animated land far away, the baby went down for a nap and slept like a little angel. Now our naptime routine goes something like this:

Baby begins rubbing eyes and whining. Generally, a miss crabby pants.

Mommy determines that Baby is ready for nap. Mommy puts crabby pants, I mean Baby, in crib and tucks in with sweet kisses.

Mommy leaves room. Advanced screaming begins. Mommy waits. Advanced screaming continues. Mommy returns to retuck Baby and display peace offering (see Pacifier).

Mommy leaves room. Baby opens Gates of Hell. Mommy waits. Baby sobs (see pathetic).

Baby becomes quiet. Mommy sighs with relief. Ten minutes pass in somber rejoicing.

Baby unleashes the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse. Mommy waits. Baby continues after short lull for pathetic sobbing. Mommy ponders "Scene of Mommy Warrior Returning to Rescue Baby from Terrible Naptime Horror"

Doors begin to rattle. Mommy gives up because Excedrin has worn off and Baby is apopleptic (may burst blood vessel if allowed to continue). Upon seeing Mommy, Baby appears like innocent, non-verbally abusive infant.

Mommy pops more Excedrin.