So, maybe I didn’t make myself clear last time. Parents of the child who is not mine, please stop cutting your baby’s hair. It’s not really necessary and you’re really not doing a very good job of it. Trust me, she looks better with her natural baby hair than with those awful blunt bangs. I say this in the nicest way possible.
Respectfully,
your Full Time Caregiver
To all of you mothers out there with darling little baby girls, don’t, I repeat DON’T get them into fairies and princesses. This is a trap designed by the capitalist whore we call Big Business to suck all of your money. Every. Last. Cent.
The Daughter’s 4th birthday is coming up very soon, and she’s been talking about her birthday party all year long. Literally. For the past 3 months, when she sees things related to fairies, princesses, mermaids, or horses which any of these aforementioned beings can ride upon, she says “I want that for my birthday!”
On an outing early in August, we happened to walk past a bakery window. (By the way, I would like to take this opportunity to damn all the bakeries who purposely display egregiously overpriced children’s cakes in the windows.) In this window, she saw The Most Amazing Cake Ever. What sort of cake might this be, you ask? One of those cakes with a Barbie doll sticking out of the top of it. You know, the cake is her skirt. Only, this cake was different. THIS doll cake just happened to be a FAIRY doll cake, with a glorious ball gown skirt all made out of frosting. Of course, The Daughter was completely enchanted. “Can I have that for my birthday, pleeease?”
And then, when I thought it couldn’t get any worse, that I could get away with throwing together some fairy outfit for her out of tissue paper and glitter glue, she made the final blow. She asked me for a Sparkly Princess Dress. “Oh God,” I thought, “I’m doomed.”
So, farewell to the days of family birthday parties of her eating cake in a bib and diaper in the kitchen sink, farewell to cheap decorations and being amused by a card with glitter on it, farewell to parties thrown together with yarn, duct tape, and craft paper.
My little girl is growing up.
Next she’ll be asking me why we can’t keep a pony in the apartment.
The Daughter has made a very important discovery: She fits inside the small carrier we have for the cats. Keep in mind, she is 1 month shy of 4 years old, 39 inches tall, and weighs 29 pounds. Our two regular-sized cats protest at being in the carrier together, yet The Daughter insists upon crawling in and then begs for the door to be latched shut. She then giggles and proclaims, “Look at me, I’m in there!” She has also requested to be allowed to nap in it.
I think I have a new time-out corner.
Inventor of the cat carrier: Thank you, for hours of endless enjoyment, for the participant and the spectators involved.
So, we’re signing the lease for our new place this evening. At this very moment I should be busting my ass packing up the kitchen, bathroom, and any other deemed essentials. However, my body doesn’t quite remember how to function just yet. You see, I got very little sleep last night. I’ve had a headache every day this week (thank you, increasing blood volume). I don’t support regular doses of Tylenol, either. Did I mention that I am incredibly tired? The Daughter is taking a nap on the couch now, and I joined her for about 30 minutes before I woke up. It’s that psychic bond we share acting up again. She was sending telepathic messages directly into my brain: “Move it, Bitch, can’t you see I’m sleeping here?”
My daughter and I share a special psychic bond.
This bond allows her to know when I’ve had a particularly late night and wake up well before her sleep cycle is over (anywhere between 3 and 6 am) and be awake for the day. She then assumes that her youthful exuberance will rub off on me, not only at 3 am but also 8 hours later at 11.
How does she live like this?
Baby,
Sometimes I wish I could drug you.
Oh, wait- I can! Your parents have provided me with Baby Orajel. All hail the pharmaceutical mecca. I’m wondering, though… Do they make anything stronger? Perhaps “Baby Sit Down, Shut Up, and Sleep”? I would be first in line to buy that for you.
Respectfully,
Your Caregiver
Please, stop dressing your infant in tacky outfits and giving her bad haircuts. She usually looks impeccably cute, but this morning I question your judgement.
Thanks,
Your Caregiver
3 A.M. is not an acceptable time to get up for the day. Just so you know, the sun rose at 5:56 A.M. today. Waking at sunrise is acceptable. I understand, you’re 4, you have lots of things to do during the day while we hang out. But, you’re about to fall asleep in a little bit, and you’ll sleep all through the afternoon. Which means - no trips to the park, tricyle riding, or nature walks. I like doing those things with you, not getting up before dawn and dressing your barbies in a state of zombie half-awareness from lack of sleep. Really, I hope you grow out of this before #2 is born or we will have some serious issues.
Love,
Your Mother
Ladies-
Having children is not a reason to let yourself get fat, or fatter. Stay healthy and set a good example for your kids by showing them how to moderate their intake and exert themselves. Science proves this leads to happier people (men included) and longer lives.
I don’t know what evolutionary process decided this was the case, but relentless screaming does NOT make me want to love you, care for you, feed you, or change your diaper. Please, use your inside voice.
Thanks,
Your Caregiver