Breanna just had a five-minute cooing conversation with my nipple. I’d like to think that she was saying how wonderful the milk was, but I think it’s possible that she was expressing her disgust over the fact that, before supper, I placed her in the bouncy seat in the bathroom and then when I noticed she was asleep, I turned out the light and left her in there to actually eat my supper while it was still hot and my family was still at the table. When she woke up, I went in and found that she was sitting there, eyes scrunched up, tiny fist shaking in the air while she babbled, “Alala! AH la la!” angrily at me, which I think translates to, “I can’t believe you left me in the goddamn bathroom, bitch!”

And also after supper tonight, Hayley was singing to herself but she was singing so softly that I couldn’t make out the words and I didn’t recognize the tune as any of the songs we normally sing or listen to. I asked her what she was singing and she looked me straight in the eye and said, “oh, nothing. It’s just an old camp song.”

Just an old camp song?! From when? The days you worked on a ranch and camped out at night with your horse and a can of beans over the campfire?

I have strange children.

Note to self: If I want to avoid too many more cases of Hayley swearing, perhaps I shouldn’t be listening to Rage Against the Machine at top volume. I really don’t need her to adopt “fuck you, I won’t do what you told me, motherfucker” as her new mantra.

I’ve been posting this around a few places, so forgive me if you’ve read this already, but I know that a vast majority of people who read my weblog are parents themselves.

I’ve been having some trouble adjusting to being the mom of more than one kid. I think it’s because I have no real routine. We never had one that was set in stone before with just Hayley but we had a basic routine going. I guess it’s still too soon to have a ton of structure.

Still, if you have any tips on making life a little easier, that would be great. For example, one of the best suggestions was to prepare stuff the night before for Hayley that she can get herself. I usually put a sippy cup with juice, one with water or milk, and some fruit in the fridge for her, and I put corn flakes (luckily she prefers them dry) in a bowl and cover it with foil then leave it on her table. This has been great because she tends to want her breakfast just when Breanna wakes up and needs to be nursed. This way, everyone is taken care of (well, except for me but I get my coffee eventually!).

Suggestions of other things that made life easier when you increased your family size would be greatly appreciated, whether they’re related to the kids or to general stuff around the house.

When you have a baby, there’s one common question that seems to come up all the time. Everyone seems to ask, “So, is she a good baby?” I know that when they ask, they fully expect to hear a jubilant “yes!” and maybe a few details like how many hours the baby sleeps at night or how many naps a day she takes – because the whole good vs. bad seems to revolve around sleep, even if the poor thing is only two weeks old.

I hate that question. I think it’s probably some reflex that makes people ask, but I still hate it with a passion. Hayley was a horrible sleeper, and still has a tendency to fight sleep like it’s a life or death battle, but she wasn’t a BAD baby. Breanna sleeps three or four hours at a time at night and (if left alone by her noisy big sister) will take a two hour nap twice a day on top of little half hour snoozes, but that isn’t what determines her to be a GOOD baby. Both my kids are good.

So I’ve always had the horrible urge to answer that question with no. Probably not if it’s someone I’m related to or close to, because I guess it would be offensive to mock them, but it would be fun with the stranger in the grocery store who must ask if Breanna is a good baby.

Just once, I would love to have the nerve to look stricken, maybe get some tears to well up in my eyes, and pretend to wail a little as I hysterically shriek, “No! Oh GOD, no, she’s not. She’s a terrible baby. I’ve been drinking vodka by ten each morning because of it. She steals money from my wallet, burns my books, slashes my clothes with razors, and sold all my jewelry at the local pawn shop! She’s just a BAD BAD BABY! I don’t know what to do. I tried to take her back to the hospital but they won’t let me return her or have her re-inserted into my uterus, so now I’m stuck with this living hell. HELP ME!”

I figure that should make the poor unsuspecting person to back slowly away from me, perhaps shifting their eyes nervously to the left and right. If I’m loud enough, it should stop anyone else in the vicinity from asking the same question. Too bad I’d never actually do it.

Really, though. Wouldn’t that be fun, just once?

(And honestly, how could you suspect a baby with this smile to be anything BUT good anyway?!)

Excellent movie. I didn’t remember much of the story because it was so long ago but watching the movie was fun. The battle scenes were amazing and I really enjoyed all of it, especially the adorable little girl who played Lucy. Totally worth watching again.

Two entries are up in the journal.

Happy new year!

I hope 2006 doesn’t suck as much as 2005 did.

(Of course there was one really good thing in 2005, Miss Breanna!)

There’s a new journal entry up.

All.day.long Hayley has been running around singing The Spice Girls. All.day.long it’s been “Tell you what I want, what I really, really want” and “If you wanna be my lover, gotta get with my friends”.

THANK YOU Chicken Little. Really. Thank you so freakin’ much.

My ears are bleeding.

I posted some pictures from December 26th, which was when my family came to visit and they’re over here.