Cranky Face
I haven’t left the house today. I feel so slug like. Mainly I’m just tired after a night of being kicked in the ribs by Giant Baby. Ugh. Why are we co-sleeping? I need to get over my fear of the crib and start sticking her in it. She’s fine when I use it as a corral during the day, but I can’t mentally make the leap to teaching her to fall asleep in it because I know there will be screaming and I am an anti-screaming mother. Not that I care of your baby screams or that I think you are being cruel if you let your baby scream. It just hurts my ears and my heart and I’m lazy enough that I don’t want to deal with it.
And guess what?
It doesn’t matter. Five years from now and most of these complex parenting decisions will not have made a wit of different. Cry it out! Breastfeed! Sling or stroller! I’m so glad I’m on my second kid and I know from experience that kids grow up and grow out and become who they are going to be and most things don’t matter that much as long as the kid has the basics (parents that are kind, consistent and loving).
But yeah. Gotta get over my fear of the crib and the screaming or just get used to another few months without sleep. I don’t remember Erik being so kicky. Mainly he was just awake and screaming all night so it didn’t matter where or how we slept.
Please don’t take this as an invitation to give me advice. I know what I need to do. I just need to man up and do it. Advice just makes me cranky, especially when I’m PMSing. I hate it when people have a problem and the solution is staring them in the face and they just won’t do it, yet in this situation I am that person and telling me about it won’t do a lot of good.
In other news, I don’t know what to do about a friendship. I have been waffling on this friendship for awhile, but at this point it is just getting. . . to THAT point, you know? There are some lovely things about this friend, but more and more I feel like saying horrible things behind her back as soon as I’ve communicated with her, which is not how I want to feel about my friends. Mainly she is just very self-absorbed. She has no idea how her attitudes and opinions affect other people, nor does she care. She’s right, you’re wrong. If you disagree you must be stupid. And if you don’t want to do her bidding? Well, hells bells, you must be OUT. TO. GET. HER.
If she didn’t have a kid it probably wouldn’t bother me so much, but when I see her doing things that I feel are bad for the kid (not in a “call CPS!” way, but in a way that makes me sad for the kid) it gives me such negative feelings for the person that it’s hard to get past that and makes everything she does feel negative.
I’m weary. The more I get to know her, the more I’m ready to call it quits. It’s hard to break up with a friend, though. I hate confrontation. I am making less and less contact so maybe the friendship will die a natural death and I won’t have to actually *gasp* talk to someone about something negative and potentially turn red and cry out of frustration.
I just need to calm down and get a hair cut. A hair cut will help. Right? Ugh. My hair is out of control right now and that always makes me grouchy, mainly because the bangs pick up oils and chemicals from my face and deposit them in my eyes and then I hurt all day.
Tomorrow: hair cut and Gymboree to spend the Gymbucks that are burning a hole in my pocket! No one can stop me!
Except maybe Erik. He has a case of the trots and I’m hoping it is from his new wheat germ obsession and not from any nasty bugs that he might spread to me. He says it’s because he watched too much Cash Cab last night, but I’m thinking the pain must have started while Cash Cab is on. His conviction that Cash Cab is the culprit is quite strong and he is ready to find the host and poop on his head.
Sorry for putting that image in your head. I live with a five year old boy. Poop is often the topic of conversation.
Speaking of which, Mike finally installed our diaper sprayer and that thing is awesome! Liners work most of the time, but when they don’t? No fear! I can’t imagine doing cloth diapers the old school way and doing the toilet dunk.
Guess I better go see what the family is up to. Or maybe pop some pimples. Did I mention the PMS? Gah! I hate being so wound up and cranky.