Not A Complete Terror

But she still got more than one time out today. And a bit of stronger discipline when she decided to resurrect her long forgotten biting habit with near skin-breaking power.

It was a very "two" day, and the house completely reflected that by the end. And me? Exhausted. After I deposited her in bed for the night, I managed to knock out two pairs of pants for her, glance at the stack of diapers waiting to be sewn and collapse in my chair with a cozy blanket. I'm avoiding the living room at all costs. Not only did the toy box throw up, so did a laundry basket and entire box of cat toys. (Which, by the way, are magical for entertaining a toddler. Must be the catnip.)

Thank God for that stupid Barbie laptop.

On My Own Again . . .

The in-laws are gone. The husband is gone. The kid and I are on our own again.

An afternoon at the park, tacos for dinner and snuggles in the big bed before sleepies. It was a good night.

Here's hoping she isn't a terror tomorrow when she realizes she has three less people doting on her.

And here's hoping the husband returns on Tuesday with a 100% go on this job thing.

They Mean Well . . .

Dear In-laws,

If you feed my child one more piece of food, I'm going to take that damn energy bar and shove it up your rear end. Asking me if she's allowed to have soy, and then completely ignoring me when I say no, really doesn't help. And don't even get me started on the coffee.

I truly do appreciate the Barbie BSmart laptop you've brought for her. It's a wonderful gift. I just don't get why you didn't think that an 18 month old might be a little hard on a toy meant for 7+. Why do you think she's not allowed to touch our laptop? No amount of reminding her to be nice is going to keep her from getting all excited and smacking the crap out of the keys. And when it has a handle, and you let her carry it around the house? Yeah, it's going to get stepped on. A lot.

I finally got the husband trained to keep his shoes outside and turn off the lights. Now I'm tripping over 18 pairs of your shoes and following you around to turn off every single light in the house. Here's a good ground rule: If you leave the room and shut the door behind you - turn off the damn lights. Same with the TV. It's not like you're watching it when you're on a completely different floor of the house.

No. The kid does not have an ear infection. She's rubbing the crap out of her ears because she got completely eaten up by gnats when you had her outside. Smacking her neck and ears and saying "Ow!" might have been a good clue she was getting gnawed on.

And finally, if you see a tray with some fabric and lots of dye and some plastic covering it, do not lay the ridiculously heavy Barbie laptop on top of it. Really. You may not realize it, but you were thisclose to seeing me completely flip out.

Sincerely,
Your Daughter-in-law, who has resigned herself to spending the next three days with you and smiling about it.

Well, That Got Us Nowhere

So, over the long weekend, the husband and I tortured the kid with the drive up to Augusta, a full day of house hunting and then a lovely drive home. What did we learn?

~ The surrounding area out from the city is gorgeous. Real trees, awesome fall colors and HILLS. Actual topography. It's like a wonderful slice of Northeastern Ohio, right here in Georgia.

~ Trusting a recommended realtor is not always a good idea. Neither is assuming that because said realtor was emailed a full list of MLS numbers on a Thursday, they would have anything ready to go on Monday morning. Instead, it's best to assume they will be completely incompetent and waste nearly two hours dicking around with looking up listings, numbers and making appointments as slowly as possible. Not only that, but they will drive across town no less than five times (at least once during rush hour) to show empty houses.

~ The husband and I are looking for the exact opposite house. A roof and four walls is about as close as we'll get. Explaining why a front porch is slightly desirable is like talking gibberish.

~ We do however, agree on our liking of things far out of our price range.

~ A cranky, tired, still sick pregnant lady does not get much sleep when in the same room with a snoring toddler and log sawing husband.

Dear Child O' Mine

You are cute.
Very cute.
Even cuter in your own bed.
Sleeping.
Soundly.
At 3 am.

Not in Mommy's bed.
At 3 am.
On her pillow.
Making her arm fall more asleep than you.

2 hours of sleep.
It's not enough.