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out out OUT to the park
Even though I love Baby Bug to pieces so much it hurts me inside, I have to admit that she has been a little pill lately. Or maybe it’s me and my famous pms. Anyway, thank the Lord for emails from babycenter.com and Violet because today I read that she might be at a normal stage where she is recognizing that she and her mama are separate beings and she might be experiencing a little anxiety. As in “I NEED MY MOMMY! EVERY WAKING MINUTE OF THE DAY!!!! because she might leave me!!!!!!!” Poor kid.
I’m not going anywhere but I do like to log on to my computer now and then or get dressed or do the dishes or spend fifteen minutes cleaning up her baby food artwork that is smeared all over her highchair and the wall beside it. I never have her out of my sight but I do like to take little breaks while she plays in her exersaucer or on her activity mat or with her toys.
Lately she won’t have any of that. She needs me paying attention every single minute.
So what do you do when you think your baby is going to drive you out of your mind? You go to the park! The lovely park! Where leaves rustle in the breeze and birds chirp and the grass is so green and… tasty!
My oh my, Baby Bug likes to eat grass just like a cow. It was all I could do to keep her on the blanket and not crawling off it like a wiggly little snake. We had fun though. We both love the park.
The best part about our little jaunt to the park was the swing. I thought she was too little for it. The leg holes seem so big, like she could fall sideways and slip right out of them. But right on the side of the rubber seat, it says: “built for children ages three an under” (Which might explain why I had so much trouble getting my nearly four-year-old niece in and out of one last weekend…).
I figured government warnings usually error on the side of caution and if it doesn’t say “only for babies 14 pounds and up”, then maybe it’s okay for Baby Bug. With extreme supervision of course.
She loved it! The gleeful laughs! The cackles and exclamations! I love it when she laughs. It’s so cute. I hardly ever can catch her on film but she was laughing so much I had a chance to snatch my camera out of my purse and record this little clip for you. (1.91 mb, quicktime)
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Moving past the train wreck post…
Oooh look pretty colors! Vintage flour sack fabric! Yay! I love old prints like this. I was taking pictures of my collection for one of my sister-in-laws (I have many, the one who lives up in Oregon) who might make Baby Bug a quilt for Christmas and I thought, “Hey, these pictures are kinda neat. Maybe I’ll post them on my blog.”
No time is better than the present to move some attention off my “blogging while under the influence of pms” post. Ugh. I hate admitting I was pms-ing. (As if you all are going to pull out your handy dandy notebook and log in what day it is so you can watch me flip out again twenty-four days from now…) I didn’t even know I was pms-ing. I kinda stopped keeping track of my cycle days sixteen months ago. I guess I better get back in the habit of it. I hate being blind-sided by crazy emotions. I hate being embarrassed of my blog posts. But at the same time I’m glad I blogged about it.
You guys have a lot of good advice and reading a bunch of comments from nice concerned readers sure beats medication or a trip to the shrink. I learned a lot from yesterday’s post. I learned that I need to acknowledge that I have trouble managing my anger. Crazy, but I didn’t really realize that before. Looking up that page on anger was very helpful. But the most important thing I learned is that it is possible to manage your anger for the sake of your kids. This gives me hope. Thank you Internet.
So that’s that.
What do you think of all the pretty flour sack fabric swatches? I know some people won’t like them. It’s weird how tastes change from generation to generation. My mom and I have complete opposite tastes in colors and combinations. I, however, LOVE these colors and combos. I just want to collect more and more. Maybe make a quilt entirely out of old flour sacks. Now that would be cool.
I bought these one yard pieces at an estate sale for 25 cents each. I thought it was a total deal and the lady who sold them to me thought she was making a killing. Funny how that works. What’s that saying about somebody’s junk is someone else’s treasure?
Which is just another way of saying I should lighten up about my mom and all her junk. I’m going to take your advice, internet, and next time I visit I’m not going to lift a finger to help out around the house. (That was the third thing I learned from you guys.)
Peace out.
