Friday, July 13, 2007


I had another ultrasound yesterday which I chose not to share with you fine people because I obviously have a tendency to leave you hanging for not only days, but weeks at a time. I am jerk, yes, I know. But don't worry, the ultrasound was routine and normal which I cannot say about my delightful daughter. Bean, from what I was able to actually hear over my daughter's screams and shrills, is doing great. I slightly remember seeing arms, legs and a cute little head but then my attention was immediately turned to my child hurling her cup of pretzels all over the floor and then repeatedly asking me to pick them up. How do you explain to a 18 month old that right now, at this very second, you have gooey gel all over your stomach touching your half exposed body. Simply said, yesterday was a nightmare, a complete and total nightmare.

I don't know who the hell thought it would be funny to hijack my daughter and replace her with a completely obnoxious look alike, but let me tell you people, I sure as hell was not laughing. She was so absolutely horrific that the nurse heard her from down the hall and came in to rescue me, well, really it was her because I was just about to pause the damn ultrasound, roll her across the street to the Farmer's Market and a put a "Free" sign on her. And in her normal 18 month old state, the moment the nurse asked her what was wrong? This maniac child of mine, almost like she had a split personality, in a sweet voice asked "Color, Crayon, Please?"

Oh that child.

The ultrasound ended. I grabbed the stroller and whispered sweet nothings in her ear which I am sure were not so sweet and we were on our way to the nurses offices to draw blood. The fun wasn't over yet because she had just one more tantrum left in her which she decided to drop on me after the blood work. I jumped up off the chair, grabbed the marker and paper that she had thrown and frantically tried to reason with this child. Before I knew it the nurse was yelling at me to sit the hell down and I was shocked that she was now all frantic until I looked at my arm and noticed blood pouring out like a little sprinkler. I had covered her floor in blood. And my shirt was now soaked in blood. I didn't hear her tell me to keep pressure on the darn thing because all I could hear was my daughter shrieking.

I left the office slightly amused. Here I am, covered in blood, pushing my banshee daughter in her stroller arching her back, into a waiting room full of glowing first time Mom's rubbing their belly's in delight. The moment they saw me, terror washed over their faces as they questioned all rational on having a child. Just think, 2 years down the road they could be just like me!! Yeehaw!!

The moment I put her in her carseat, she smiled a huge grin and in a sweetsy cutesy voice said "Sorry, Mama". I knew she knew that her behavior was not good. I told her that there would be no toys in her crib for quiet time and she knew. She wasn't happy and kept saying "Sorry, toys please". No ma'am, no way. I was not about to reward her for that behavior, I don't parent that way. We got home, went into her room, gave her a hug and a kiss and put her in crib and one by one removed her toys then left.

Just to add insult to injury, after I left her in her room, in her crib now empty of toys, she proceeded to throw a tantrum (apparently she did have one more left). I gave myself 15 minutes of cool off time and decided I did at least need to go and give her her cup of milk and tell her I loved her. She had finished yelling at me and was quiet, too quiet. As I opened the door I noticed her smearing something all over her face with a huge grin plastered on it. Blood. Everywhere. During her fit she busted her lip.

Sometimes, there will just be days like this. She is still in her crib. It is 8:30 and thank goodness she slept in today. It's a brand new day and the thing about being a Mom, is you have to forgive and forget and move on because they already have.

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