We have this great system at our house.  I take the night shift, which includes an average of 3 times per night of getting out of bed and putting Button back to sleep.  But at 6:00am (techically 5:45am) J’s shift starts and he has to get out of bed with her when she starts the day, and I get to sleep in … “sleep in” being a relative term depending on whether or not I have to go to work that day.

Every morning J gets up, changes her diaper and pulls off her jammies, and takes her downstairs.  And approximately 5 minutes later, she lets go of an enormous, messy, smell poo which requires much cleaning and wiping and supression of the gag reflex.

Two nights ago, as I was bringing her upstairs to go to bed, he hollered after her, “Button, there will be NO POOPING in the morning!”

The next morning, he walked in her room and reached into the crib to pull her out.  She chose that moment to throw up WITH SUCH FORCE YOU’D THINK A COKE CAN EXPLODED IN HER STOMACH.  In the crib, on the bumper, on the floor, on him.  So the clothing and sheets had to be changed and washed, the bumper stripped and washed, the carpet soaked and scrubbed, the baby bathed…
BUT SHE DID NOT POOP THAT MORNING.

Dear Kevin Ramose (sp?),

Regarding the lengthy voicemail you left me at 3:30am, I hate to disappoint you but I am not the prostitute you were evidently looking for and therefore will be unable to “hook [you] up with some sum’n-sum’n.” However, I would like to contribute to your well-being in the way of some good, solid advice.

Just for the record, the fact that you live with your mother is not a turn-on to a woman (especially, I imagine, to self-employed, income-earning women). This becomes particularly apparent when you have to say something like, “give me a call back at [this number]. And if my mama answers the phone, uh, you don’t know me.”

Based on your voice, I’m guessing that your live-at-home status has more to do with your age than what a loser you are, though I’m not completely ruling that out. That said, I would like to bring the following facts to surface:

1. You’re like, what, 12? Do you really think a working woman is going to be interested in a) you, and b) taking your allowance as payment?
2. It’s late. If you don’t have anywhere to be, go to bed and stop bothering other people with your phone calls.
3. If you’re going to insist on staying out late, going behind your mom’s back, and contracting STDs before you get past puberty, at least get the right phone number.
4. In general, when leaving a message and your sibling picks up the line, it’s polite to finish your phone call and hang up before conversing in length with said sibling about exactly what you left on the message.

In short, Kevin, I advise you to enroll in summer-school and go back to playing with yourself in the bathroom, as that’s likely the only action you are going to see anytime soon.

I regularly get these newsletter-style emails from BabyCenter.com regarding the normal developmental stages for my child.  They were quite helpful during the pregnancy, when I needed to know if they were going to stick me what to expect at my next appointment and whether or not x and y were “normal.”  But post-baby, I have found their content to be … sugar-coated, at best.

I think the woman (you know it’s a woman) who writes them is the type of person who takes her child to the aquarium and points to a piranha, saying “look at the pretty goldfish, honey.”

For instance, the newsletter might say something to effect of, “Your child may be exploring her voice, making more and more sounds in varying volumes.”

Reading that did not prepare me for the actual event, which would better have been stated, “A shrieking pterodactyl will take over your child’s body this month, and all semblance of mood expression will be replaced by sudden screaming in pitches you didn’t know humans could hear, for hours at a time.”

It’s a miracle that this child still has a voice the next day.

While running some errands, I called home to inform J that I was (finally) finished and on my way home.  I have no idea what he said during the conversation because all I could hear was the shrieking in the background, and the good china cracking (ok, that might have been an exaggeration … we don’t have “good” china).

So I did what any reasonable person would do…I hung up the phone, pulled a U-turn and headed toward Oklahoma.  Then I came to my senses and realized that a trip to Oklahoma meant certain death by boredom … so I reluctantly headed back.

I think I need to find a new newsletter.

Saw a preview for The Barnyard today.  When the time comes, I’m afraid I will be utterly (ok, I was really tempted to use the pun “udderly” here, but RESISTED.  JUST FOR YOU.) unable to convince myself to sit through this movie for the simple reason that the main character is a male cow WITH UDDERS. 

VERY. PROMINENT. UDDERS.

How many idiots did that bungle have to get past to make it to the big screen?  Or is Nickelodeon trying to integrate the idea of transexualism into mainstream children’s culture?

Either way, the gender-confused cow and his movie won’t be seeing my $8. 

I’ve been a little short on time recently when it comes to reading blogs.  This morning I checked Bloglines and there were 206 entries that I had yet to read.  I’ve started making headway, but it will take some time.  I’m in the D’s now (bloglines list is alphabetical) so if you haven’t seen me around recently, I’m getting to you!

Now, back to reading…

UPDATE…I’m now in the L’s.  This is more of an accomplishment than it sounds like because every day I have to start over again at the A’s because you people KEEP WRITING.  Slow down for JUST A MINUTE.  What do you think this is, Freedom of Speech week?  Sheesh.

UPDATE #2:  4 days later and I’m DONE.  I’m a reading machine, baby, a reading machine.