twotothree

Mike gets home from work at midnight, long after I'm asleep.  He always wants to have a conversation.  He asks questions, and I either mumble or yell at him to let me sleep, depending on how cranky I am. Which is usually dependent upon how Gloria was that day.

Last night, after working straight since Saturday morning, he came into the bedroom and asked how my day went.  He whispers, as if whispering me awake is going to be much less offensive than forcing me back into consciousness in a normal tone.  "I have another double to work tomorrow," he said.

I lied there, face down and diagonal on the bed, two baby feet wedged underneath my sternum (this is how she sleeps now ...) and I stayed silent.  Thiswas mostly because I didn't have time to brush my teeth before bed, but also because yesterday was SO BAD.  No more teeth!  This kid is like a sassy foreman at a baby teeth factory.

In the haze of hate I felt toward the world, I forgot to mention a pretty important milestone for Gloria.  First bar fight.  My former coworker, Elana, had an after-baby shower yesterday.  Her little girl was playing on the floor with Gloria while Elana and I pounded mimosas at eleven a.m.  Just kidding, Elana was drinking water.  (Don't judge me, a strung-out mom needs to get her fix somehow.)

Anyway, I have to admit that part of my motivation for going to this baby shower was to get some socialization for Gloria.  I read on the internet that if you don't socialize babies while they're young, they either grow up to kill baby animals or to change their name to "Aurora" and work in a place where the uniform consists of red pleather hot pants.  And for her first encounter with a strange baby, Gloria did well.  Until the other baby picked up G's Favorite Toy of the Week (this week it's a 1/2 cup measuring cup).  Then all bets were off, and Gloria DOVE for the other baby.  You'd think that Gloria would have a clear advantage, as Elana's girl was only eight months old, and Gloria is a 97th percentile Amazon baby.  I swear I heard an "Oh no she di'n't!" and I turned around to see Gloria lunging for her cup.  But Eighty had the fine motor skills of a violinist and the determination of a linebacker.  She planted a palm square in the center of Gloria's face, knocking her to the floor.  It was a dirty, dirty baby fight, and then both babies were crying.

Later in the day G took out the shame over her loss on me by peeing on my phone.  I'm not even going to go into the details of how that occurred.  Hey, kid, I never said that learning to share would be easy.

 

The following are photos from yesterday's 1.5-hour post-storm long camp out.  Kevin gets really irritated when you throw grass at him, but Gloria thought this was hilarious.  Thanks for taking one for the team, buddy.

I swear he's normally a very attractive dog ...