There is a distinct possibility that my child is an evil genius. A cute, cuddly, ball of devious intellect.
And I say this with love and pride.
Every week she continues to come up with new ways to outwit Ben and I. Early on in life she had a canny sense for when I was trying to get out of the house with her. In a fine orchestra of bodily fluids, she would poop, pee and urp on everything she could reach, including her clothing, my clothing, her crib sheets, her changing table, the car seat, etc. By the time she and I were both cleaned up, she would be hungry again and I would be tired and likely mommy's outing to the grocery store for toilet paper was canceled.
But it didn't stop there. She began LEARNING. And her genius developed even more. You see, Kate hates (LOATHES) a wet diaper. For stupid parents who can't tell if a diaper truly is wet (I include myself in this category) Pampers has come up with a magical diaper that has a yellow line that turns blue when peed on. And for the first two months of life, Kate would slightly wet her diaper and then scream, cry and protest the unfairness of it all until her pants were changed. So now, every time that she even slightly wets her diaper, Ben and I know it must be changed STAT or all hell will break loose.
But she changed the rules on us last week. Now, she will slightly wet her diaper and fuss to let us know it needs to be changed. If we even see a hint of blue we've been programmed to change her diaper, so we immediately do so. And then, with sheer glee, Kate will urinate all over whatever we happen to be changing her on at the time. In just a few days, she has pulled this trick on our car seats, on a hotel bed, on her mattress, on her travel changing pad and on her changing table not once, twice or thrice, but FOUR times.
You see? It is genius. She never ever has to go to the bathroom in her diaper. And each time she pulls this one on us, she gets a big grin on her face and squirms around in total joy. I imagine her inner monologue as she congratulates herself on getting away with it again. And I just have to laugh at her and shake my head and think...
"You bested me again, my worthy opponent. But just wait to see who has the last laugh when you are 16 and we don't get you a car because you peed on me one too many times."
Ahhhhh, sweet revenge.
Wednesday, May 27, 2009
Yes, I know.
It has been too long since a post. If any of you are still reading or checking this blog, take heart! I plan to return to regular posting now that my sweet angel has some sort of schedule that allows me to (GASP) have some time to myself during the day.
Kate turned two months old over the weekend, and its hard to describe the amazing changes we've seen in her during that time. And yet, while she totally BLOWS MY MIND with how cool she is, from what I gather, all her amazing intelligence (She makes eye contact! She smiles!! She coos!!!) and stunning physical prowess (She can lift her head! She is starting to try to roll over!! She is sure to begin crawling, like, TOMORROW!!!) is just really normal baby stuff. So I'll bypass a blow by blow of the last two months for you all.
What I can say is that Kate is a healthy 10.1 pound 21.5 inch bundle of wiggly baby joy.
As for mommy and daddy, we are surviving. Since Ben travels during the week, and has class every other weekend, I have precious little personal time. And, while I love every moment with Kate (ok, I didn't LOVE cleaning poop off Kate's feet yesterday morning, but you get the point) I sometimes dearly need time away. The problem is that when Ben actually IS home and has time to take the baby off my hands, I find myself at a loss for what to do. He urges me to get out of the house, but really all I want to do is crawl into bed and sleep or take a long hot bath without someone running in and saying "Um, the baby is hungry and she wants her cow".
However, as we begin to settle in with baby Kate, I have started to feel the shift where this life changing event simply becomes life as we know it. And life as we know it now has some serious cuteness.