The Late Late Show, or Why I’ll Never Get Pregnant Again

Baby A is standing in front of me, pushing keys on the telephone and grinning like a mad baby. I think she might also be chewing on something from the floor buffet, too. Yes, readers, welcome to our evening life. Baby A goes down for a short siesta around 7:30-8, and then we are treated to several hours of giggling, dog food breath, mischievous grins, and ultimately screaming fits, until she is too exhausted to go on. She reaches that point somewhere around crazy-thirty. Each night one of use will say to the other “why don’t you go sleep upstairs?” but up to now, neither of us has been willing to actually do it, for fear of the consequences of leaving Baby A alone with someone who for moments during the night, actually considers putting her outside with the cats. We’re both guilty of it. How the hell are you people out there who have more than one small child surviving? Drugs? Amphetamines? What? I don’t need to know just yet, but before I get pregnant again someone better let me in the club.

As if there were every going to be a time IN MY LIFE that I’d actually have the chance to get pregnant….

Now she’s screaming with laughter, tottering around the house carrying a cat collar in her mouth. We’re a step up today- yesterday she ate some cat litter. What? I can’t be expected to be on top of my game only 2 days into Primary Caregiver mode. I had 8 weeks off, for christ’s sake. Now that school is about to start, I’m ready to look at Day Cares again. I just can’t figure out what’s preventing me from getting out the goddamn stroller and walking 400 feet to the subdivision next door every day? Even today, when the house f-ing reeked of bug spray, we were stuck here. Tethered to the house by my supreme laziness, which has resulted in my weight being 15 pounds MORE than it was when Baby A was a week old. At least I don’t have to se Dr. Bobby regularly. “Oh, I’m into working out, and it looked like you probably were too at one time (at one time!? fudge you!), so I made sure to sew your stomach back together. If you want a 6 pack, you can get one again- it’ll take 6 to 9 months, maybe a year….”

If he could see me now, munching on my evening snack of chocolate cake and chocolate milk, bathed in the stench of bug spray.

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