Continuing from an earlier string of posts (here and here):
9. My taste buds are old and mostly dead. Foods that taste sweet and only mildly tart to me, are astonishingly sour to Maureen. Take mashed Granny Smith apples for example. I think, "Mmm, homemade apple sauce." And Mo thinks, "Holy crap, woman, stop feeding me lemons!" And then her left eye flutters against the loathesome flavor.
10. Try as I might, I'm just not as big a hippie as I want to be. Yes, we're still using cloth diapers, but the herbal wipe solution made baby's butt look like raw hamburger. Poor Mo! Major fail.
11. It is great that Maureen is active, alert, and curious. But nursing an active, alert, and curious seven month old is not so fun. Especially when she's grabby, pinchy, scratchy, slappy, kicky, twisty, squirmy, shovey, bitey, fussy, and constantly turning around to look at the dog. Kellymom, take me away.
12. Whew, yesterday was a doozy. As Mo was going down for her first nap of the day, Robb dropped by the house to pick something up he needed at work. Maureen heard his footsteps in the hallway and Sukey's collar jingling, and her eyes snapped open. Just like that the napportunity was gone. An hour-and-a-half later when we tried again, she refused to close her eyes. By that time she was so tired she fussed through her milk and kept on complaining (at this point Mommy set her down in her crib and took a "time out") until I got the bright idea to give her a bath. Somewhat relaxed Mo finally took her first nap of the day at 3pm. When Robb got home I told him that college made me want to drink, but parenthood makes me want a line of coke and a hooker. Never thought Charlie Sheen could be a role model for parenting, but it is clear to me now that his children drove him to it.