That's me today.
It started at 7:00 with a wake up. We always nurse first thing in the morning. This morning Ivymae decided that because her teeth hurt (poor buddy!) that boobs were for chewing. Half-asleep, I yelled, "OUCH!" which of course startled her, and she started to cry. Great. Now I'm that mom who yells at her kids for no reason.
Her teeth ache so much, poor little tiny! She's biting down on everything she can get in there, but we really like our little mesh bag that we can put an ice cube in. It doesn't feel better for very long, though. There is a lot of bucking and head butting.
It's before 11, and I'm not sure what to do anymore. She doesn't want to be held, or play, or read, so we'll try going down to sleep.
I'm giggling to myself now about how dazed I am when she falls asleep. It's like I finally have a chunk of time to do something productive, but I'm too glazed over to do it. I just got done staring off into space and eating toast which I realized half way through had nothing on it. But it's Michael's "Men's Health" bread, which I'm sure is chock-full of testosterone. So I'll probably have some 'roid rage later.
I'm also contemplating making a cake for Ivymae's Big Day. There are some pros to this: a homemade cake is much better than one with that buttercream frosting. It is probably cheaper. I can make a cake with no animal ingredients in it, (which I realize isn't a "pro" for everyone else) and it will be fresher. The main "con" here would be that my baking projects are usually EPIC FAILURES. And cakes are delicate...you can't just throw whatever you want together, which is how my entire life operates. But now I feel like it's a challenge, like my mothering skills are somehow being called on the carpet here by myself, and to succumb to the bakery cake would be a gigantic Puss Out.
You wanna GO, Donna Reed? What now, Betty Crocker? Who's bad???
