Fuck whatever and whoever told you otherwise.
For they are pure, innocent, unadulterated, assholes.
I am on day four of the Smidges ear infection, teething, post-shot-related, virus-y asshole-ishness.
Just now? Two seconds ago. I had the gall to say Evelynn No. (The Smidges name is Evelynn FYI)
She was attempting to steal the spoon from my tea. Which would have resulted in scalding tea spilling all over her legs. Did she thank me for saving her from mild tea related burns? No. She screamed even louder (Which, silly me, doubted was even possible) and
Just now (less than a minute later) She tried it again. And I have to move my fucking tea because I can’t leave it anywhere near me or she’ll scald her evil, assholeish, little self.
This is all after what is possibly the worst diaper blow-out in her history of diaper blowouts. Which was disgusting mainly because she has refused to eat anything but yogurt and peanut butter for, oh, about four days.
I WILL BE THE MOTHER ON THE NEWS FOR MICROWAVING MY BABY.
Except I have a small microwave and a fat baby.
I actually discussed this with Josh last night, while she was (you guessed it) screaming at the top of her lungs.
If I actually wanted to Microwave her I’d probably have to chop her up into tiny pieces, then individually chop those up in the food processor and then microwave her. Which seems to me like it would rob you of the satisfaction of just shoving her fat satan ass in there and ‘nuking her.
*No, I’m not actually going to kill my baby. That’s just fucked up.*
*I just like talking about it because she hurts my feelings when she acts like she invited a host of demons to have a tea party in her tiny baby body.*
She will not stop screaming. Unless Josh is holding her. Which, I love him, and I totally appreciate the break, but that’s really just adding insult to injury because I’ve been trying to make this asshole shut up for 8 hours and you walk in and she’s all mother-fucking sunshine and rainbows.
She has also woken up at least once (usually so, so much more) every night all week. This is the child that usually sleeps for 10+ hours a night. And she doesn’t just wake up and play like usual, she wakes up and screams. For at least an hour. Every. Damn. Night. I’m so fucking done.
Can I quit yet? Because this is a really shitty job. *Does not get paid enough to hold, feed, change, play with, and do that whole love and nurture thing to someone who I’m pretty sure only lives to eat sacrificial cats and stale tortilla crumbs*
Yup. I quit today. I’ve decided.
No. Actually, The only thing I’ve decided is that I’m giving Smidge (who from henceforth shall be known only as the grand supreme asshole) the silent treatment.
I’m not sure what I hope to accomplish by not speaking to a 1 year old that doesn’t speak much English anyway, But knowing that I am is making me feel better.
And now that she’s screeching about the fact that there aren’t any cheeto’s left for her to chew on and then smear into the carpet? I’M IGNORING HER. Yup.
I’m giving her the old “I’m pretending you don’t exist” treatment (I learned it from my little sister, She’s a pro.)
And will only acknowledge her grand supreme assholeishness when she needs changed, and napped, and I’m not even going to try to feed her again for at least three more hours. (or until Josh gets home and supplies some obviously lacking sanity to this situation.)
Smidge is an asshole. And I’m not putting up with her bullshit today. I’m semi-quitting. That’s what I’m going to call this. The Semi-Quit.
Thank you, That is all.