It started yesterday when Sophie said her second word. I've been practicing with her for months. "Ma-Ma," I would say, and she would smile, giggle, or try to move her mouth like mine. This one, I thought, would be mine. Trevor said "Papa", Vic said "Dada", so Sophie had to say "Mama," right? So, Wesley is holding her, and all the sudden, she busts out with "Da Da." Nooooooooo!!! That can't be. We've been practicing for months. How could you? Maybe I didn't hear her right. Then she says it again...and again...and too many times to count. Traitor. I gave birth to you, pumped milk for over 8 excrutiating months for you. How could you?
Then, last night was particularly awful. I went to bed at 11:30, pulling my regular trick of leaving Wesley snoring on the couch, while I snuck into the bed and turned off the baby monitor. This would force him to get up with the baby if she woke up, or so I thought. At 2 am, he flings open the door to the bedroom and thrusts the baby in the bed. Apparently she's awakened 3 times so far, which I find hard to believe, given that it's only been 2.5 hours since I went to bed. Come to find out, she cried out twice, and really only woke up the 3rd time. So, we shoved a bottle into her mouth and slept peacefully until 4 am. You see, Sophie had already been asleep for about 10 hours at this point, because she crashed early after school yesterday, so she was up and ready to play. I tried to coax her back to sleep with another bottle, but she talked, kicked, and punched for the next hour. Then, as she doze off, Victoria came into the room, because she was scared. She climbed into the bed, waking the baby, so now the 4 of us were awake. We tossed and turned for the next hour or so, and at this point, my head was pounding. It was throbbing so hard, I actually heard it thumping to a beat. Turns out, it was the high school band, who, for some godforsaken reason, was practicing their marching routine at 6:30 in the morning.
We all finally got up at 7, and I was going to fix a breakfast of Halloween-shaped french toast. One wanted cereal, and the other wanted chips, so I didn't even waste my time. Then, Trevor said something curious. "Tonight's your night, mommy." Not because I love Halloween, dressing up, or trick-or-treating. No, it's because, "You love candy." So, I put on some clothes and went for a walk. I am making a resolution not to raid the kids' Halloween stash, and I am starting a diet and exercise routine immediately.
So, I'm functioning on about 4 hours of sleep, starting a diet, and I've given up soda, so I am one grumpy bitch today. Good luck family.