Twenty-twelve has decidedly been a pretty good year so far. Not that 2011 was that bad, 2010 was much worse. I guess I'm just reminiscing on my year in review - graduated, got a job, and had a baby. All in all, I think it was a pretty good run.
Christmas was super uneventful. My parents visited on the Eve, brought us presents, forgot a christmas tree for us. Then in the morning of we went to Sean's family where Z got a metric fuckton of stuffed animals and toys (all that were pink, why can't we get anything green or yellow?). Not that I'm complaining about the massive influx of pink clothing in our apartment, but seriously - she doesn't need to be bathed in pepto bismol to prove her gender. If she's anything like me, she might find her own gender and sexuality rather fluid, and not restricted by heteronormative society. And in fact, I intend to teach her that love comes in all ages, genders, pairings, and isn't restricted to diads of love. I have met several people in poly relationships, and they are by far some of the happiest people that are in love. If I wasn't super jealous possessive pants - I would consider being poly...
But, yeah, I'm super jealous possessive pants.
Plus - Grandma Kat told us what Zelda wanted for next Christmas.
"A little brother!"
NOPE. NOPE NOPE NOPE NOPE.
Last night my parents came to visit, and I nearly strangled my sister. We left Z with Grandpa Donnie and Mona and went out for a quick Meijer trip and to pick up some carside to go. As we were waiting for food, I decided to call my sister to quick check on my baby, and to tell them the roads were getting pretty bad snow-wise. In fact, we got stuck on a little hill outside applebee's, and there was an accident on the less than five mile drive home.
Well, crazy mom mode kicked in full force for me when Mo didn't answer. I almost lost my shit.
I take that back, I totally lost my shit.
As we were in the car I called eighteen times in the span of twenty minute and sent her two text messages. I was just furious that she wasn't answering, since I had let her start playing the wii to keep her entertained at my apartment. Needless to say, I nearly brought her to tears when we got home. I was pissed, she only had one thing to do while we were gone, since my father is tech impaired, and it was to answer the phone if I called.
And call I did.
I just can't deal with the eleven year old that just doesn't seem to understand anything else besides herself, and it was one thing. Answer the phone when I call, Z is only six weeks old, I need to know she is ok. Mostly I'm trying to get all the crazy out before I go back to work, which is now ten days away. I know, less than two weeks and I'm going to be doing two days a week and every other weekend.
In other news, I have a fussy-ass baby. She gets upset for no apparent reason: rocking, changing, nursing, singing, bouncing, walking, car rides, or swinging does nothing to stop her screaming. I'm not talking a cry, I'm talking a scream that shakes her whole body, turns her face purple, and she is left without air in her lungs screaming. It goes on for about two to four hours every day, starts at about 10p and usually by 2a we can get her down for some sleeping. It is the hardest part of my day. She hasn't started tearing up yet, but I can just see in her eyes that she is hurting somehow and nothing I do makes her feel any better.
But sometimes, the weird stuff makes her stop for a little bit, and she gets confused as to why she isn't screaming anymore. I took this with the BF's phone on Christmas Eve. It's turned, but if you have a laptop or something with a screen that doesn't auto rotate, you can watch it.
Remind me, but I thought the lyrics were, "you better not shout, you better not cry."
I wouldn't trade a single second of her screaming though. She's my baby, and she's a stinkerbot, but she's my responsibility.
I've never loved anything or anyone as much as her.
I have become such a fucking sap, what the hell is wrong with me?