I have this friend named Janet who lives in Kentucky. Sometimes when she is blathering on in a serious heat about something, and you really are thinking "does your train of thought have a caboose" she'll lay her hand on your arm and say "Girl I know, I just have to GET IT OUT, so let me finish."
I think blogging is that.
I have to get it out.
So, let me finish.
Today I will be reading from the book of "The Breadth of the Parenting Experience, or How Your Night Can Go from Tender to Horrific in 30 minutes."
Last night I was having one of those mommy moments, brushing teeth, reading stories, tucking into bed, etc etc etc. Kisses are distributed, night-night's wished and as I'm getting ready to stop across the gate I hear Baby Birdman say "Mama?" so I turned around and walk back over to his bed. And he smiles and says "Night Night".
I walk away feeling all tender and mommyish and full of the hope of fertility and joy. Don't LAUGH. You other mommies out there get that way too, even if you aren't ever having MORE kids......those moments fill me with joy, and I forgive him for nearly killing me with pain when he was born.......I even forget it.
I get a beer, I turn on a show about preserving the dead on the history channel.
30 minutes pass. I flip on BIG LOVE on HBO. And I hear Baby Birth of Cool SOBBING.
Hmmmm, Mommy must investigate. Halfway down the hall.....I smell it.
Liquid brown death.
I step over the gate. Baby Birth of Cool has the quilt up to his face, shielding himself from the Vapors. Baby Birdman, however, Baby Birdman has dipped his hand into the Diaper of Death, and is PAINTING.
On his pillow.