Sometimes we get what we ask for. And sometimes, those things bite us in the butt. For instance, in an attempt to encourage Littleman to be more independent, he now has to get dressed before he gets breakfast or his beloved pbskids in the morning. The last four mornings he appeared in our bedroom fully dressed AND his pajamas were not on the floor, but in his hamper! Papabear and I made such a fuss in order to praise and encourage him. Well...Littleman is so pleased with his ability to dress himself, that he has now taken to multiple outfit changes throughout the day. This wouldn't be so bad, except that Littleman's clothes ALWAYS seem to attract dirt or food, hence, my laundry loads are getting bigger. This is not quite a huge bite in the butt, maybe just a nibble. I'm glad he's finally dressing himself. I can't deal with that in September when he start preschool three days a week and I have a newborn. Nipping that one in the bud now.
Here's a bigger bite. For years Papabear and I have argued about putting the toilet seat down. I'm sure this argument is no stranger to any of you. He argued that I should leave it up for him, I argued that since I don't have a choice but to sit down for both of my businesses, out of courtesy he should leave it down for me. It literally took me falling into the toilet at three am, 8 months pregnant with Littleman, and screaming bloody murder, for my argument to stick. Since then Papabear has been pretty consistent with putting the seat down. Since we moved into this house two months ago, though, something strange has begun to occur. Papabear has started putting both the seat AND the lid down. My butt coldly learned this at 2 am one morning. Now, when I have to get up all those wretched times in the middle of the night I have to remember to put the lid up. A pain in my butt, similar to a bite in my butt. I seriously can't complain to my husband to put the seat down BUT not the lid. What kind of naggy bitch would I be then? Aaahhh, life. She's got a funny sense of humor.
Oh, had my first breastfeeding dream last night. When I was prego with Littleman I had two very disturbing breastfeeding dreams, before I even knew about my dreadfully flat nipples and the problems they would pose. Last night I dreamt I was at a playdate and all these moms just whipped out their boobs, their babies effortlessly latched on and began eating. I looked down at my beautiful baby boy, who looked up at me hopefully. I took out an enormous boob, bigger than the baby's head, and attempted to steer the little guy's mouth. First attempt was unsuccessful, the surface of the boob was flat as a sheet of ice. Attempt #2 was more successful, baby latched on. I watched the side of his head to see if he was swallowing and it seemed like he was. After a few moments the baby fell asleep and "detached" himself from me. I looked down at my breast, it appeared full, but no matter how I squeezed there just wasn't any milk. So I stared down at my sleeping little angel and just wondered if he was full of air or just really, really tired.....
Yeah, not the weirdest dream...and not all that disturbing. I'm really not worrying about it. If it works out, it works out. If not, not. I find it interesting how my brain is trying to work it out for me.
The boob that's bigger than the baby's head... Ahhh... Memories! Teeheehee... I will keep my fingers crossed for ya!
ReplyDelete