Sweet Pea's content at the moment because she's guzzling a bottle full of her mom's freshly pumped breast milk. That's Lambie on The Cousin's lap. Or is it Lambert? They all have f@#king names.
It's very important, during emotional meltdowns, (The Cousin's not mine) to know which one she wants.
The Cousin and I bonded big time yesterday while Sweet Pea was napping.
We played with scoops and shovels in bubble water...
And ate applesauce with mega doses of cinnamon.
It's not that we don't enjoy Sweet Pea's company. But Sweet Pea has become a beast. Seriously.
I've seen the change in just 2 short weeks. Nothing, and I mean nothing, stops her from applying the 'bulldozer method'. Nothing gets in her way on the blanket. Nothing distracts her from her focus. Nothing says "unhappy" quite like this...
Sweet Pea's lungs are as massive as her body and she doesn't give a shit about the cutesy little Playskool toys, the PVC-free corn starch rattles, the soft plush bunnies, the teething rings.
She now hates conventional infant toys. She bypasses all of them, plowing through the childproof barricades, trampling every damn toy in her path, in order to get a tag, a Dasani h2o bottle, a magazine,
the A+D diaper rash ointment tube or her cousin's feet. All these items have one and only one destination: her mouth.
Hmmm..trust issues with the nanny? I did, however, secretly slip her a faint smear of The Cousin's banana and she about gnawed my finger to the bone, which pretty much told me,
bring it on!
And another thing. Somehow, Sweet Pea didn't get the memo that states:
Babies crawl before they stand.
This presents a problem for the nanny as you might imagine, because she's pulling herself up on everything, at a jackrabbit's pace, and of course, what goes up...quickly goes SPLAT.
You know, choice words do go through my head, but I can't say what I'm thinking when it all falls apart, because The Cousin is a f@!#ing parrot and I'll get fired.
But when Sweet Pea bonks her head, all hell breaks loose.
|Sweet Pea eating a red chair.|
|Sweet Pea eating a book appropriately titled.|
to avoid loud noises such as barking dogs and sirens. I even silence my cell. Yesterday, I could have stabbed this dude in the jugular and left his body for the crows. He was using a leaf blower inches away from us.
When Sweet Pea started to stir a bit, my deodorant instantly lost all effectiveness.
"I'm gonna kill that mutha if he wakes them up."
Upon returning home, I had to carefully lift the monstrosity of a stroller up over several large cement steps to get them inside without waking them. Once in the front door, I wheeled the whole damn thing into the back bedroom, put on the humidifier for background noise and closed the door. I then proceeded to stuff my face with carob covered malt balls and stare catatonically at Dr. Phil.
I'm sure all the stay-at-home moms or insane nannies all across America were doing the same.
I'd probably sum up "Nanny hood" with this simple one-word logline:
S O S!
It's like the army. 5-minute showers. A wipe of the drool with your own shirt sleeve. A spoonful of cereal on the run. You can't even take a piss alone.
The Cousin follows me into the bathroom and watches.
And because I can't leave Sweet Pea alone on the floor anymore, I have to either harness her in the Johnny Jumper or strap her in the swing and that goes over like a fart in church.
Well, that's the story on this morning after. It's no joke that I was asleep last night by 8 pm.
I do have one last pic for the montage. I'm teaching The Cousin how to change a diaper.
(I wasn't born yesterday y'all and I see it as beneficial)
So, it isn't age-appropriate. So the hell what!
I think she'll be ready to help me out next week.
|The Cousin "in training."|