I want to blog tonight. Really I do. But I had the same kind of day I often have. I woke up with the baby and sat her in front of Dora for awhile so I could drink my coffee and set about feeling guilty that I couldn't think of good shit to do with her. She's 18 months. She must be bored. Shit, I am. I briefly thought about taking her to the mall cause it's so damn hot out that the park even at 9 a.m she is bound to end up in sunburn even with 100 spf all over her. Unfortunately she doesn't tolerate the mall well and you know what, neither do I. Before I had a baby I had limited tolerance for malls. I have to know what I want and go procure it and get the hell home. Otherwise I'd risk the overstimulated feeling where I want to hurt someone. Usually someone who works at a cosmetics counter. There's just something about them...snotty attitudes for people most probably making 7 dollars an hour. Although, I make nothing so how can I judge?
So what to do with my kid today? We wasted the entire morning inside building towers with Leggos, watching more Dora (guilt yes, brief free time also yes), a little trip out to the backyard to explore. We've only lived in this house for two years. Little did I know that an old gross mini trampoline was living in a corner of the yard. Hey, just like My Gym but with loads more bacteria! So there was five minutes of fun right there! And now it's 9:00 a.m. Jesus. Guilt or no guilt we stayed home all morning and I mistakenly thought she's still take a nap. Not so much. She said "You didn't do jack shit with me this morning and now you expect me to sleep? Did you take your meds yesterday or what?" Well, she would have said that if she wasn't BEHIND in her language for an 18-month-old. Yes, that's what we found out at her check up but not to worry until she's two. Of course now I'm crazy with trying to get her to say more words than Doggy and Baby which she says hundreds of times a day.
So, as you guessed it, the nap was short lived. She wasn't that tired. I broke down and took her for a boring playdate. The woman I was visiting talked to her neighbor for an hour about preschool, elementary school even high school. HEY YOUR KID IS A YEAR AND A HALF! I know it's competitive out there but this doesn't constitute useful brain activity for me. So finally it's home, dinner, bath, 40 stories. Actually more like the same story 40 times and then off to bed. Good times.
Thank god for bedtime and wine and blogging.
Posted by Stefanie Wilder Taylor on May 29, 2006 2:55 am
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