monday. oh, monday.

it's almost 11. littleface and i are still in our pajamas. i was gonna take her to the park later on but i don't really feel like doing much today. we've been having the funkiest weather so of course it means i have to get sick. i just hope the little one doesn't get sick too.

my little angel said her first [real] word last week.

"dada".

at first, i was all excited because she finally said a word that wasn't a bunch of vowels accompanied by spit and slobber. but that is so not fucking fair! i change the diapers, i do the nursing, i go to battle with this kid when it's time to do her hair. oh yes, we battle but i'll get to that in a minute. he kisses one fucking booboo and of a sudden he's "dada". what kind of fuckery?! ugh. gawd.

so, along with me coming to grips with this shit, i'm having to come to terms with the fact that my little angel is seriously testing me and will be getting some discipline in her life very soon. al-fucking-ready. she has issues with getting her hair combed and brushed and me putting little headbands and shit on her; she's got white people's hair so that's all i can really do with it. i'm scared to do pigtails and ponytails because i'm scared of pulling out her hair. shut up. you don't even know.

anyhoos, this started a little while ago, but typically it was only when i was trying to put a headband on or clip on a barrette. she'd get to wiggling and try to pull away from me and i thought it was the cutest shit. now, this little midget is yanking the shit off her head, pulling her hair and throwing tantrums. i'm like, 'is this shit supposed to be happening this soon?' then, i'm crying and googling shit because i don't know what the fuck i'm doing and if i'm doing it wrong and this child has taken me to a whole other place. Jay thinks this is the funniest shit in the world because she only does the tantrums with me. "she looks like me, but that's all you." fuck you, asshole. ugh. but it's so fucking true. as the months go by and all of this personality is surfacing, i'm seeing that she's truly the pint-sized version of me. it's pretty fucking scary.

and we're actually trying for another baby. the hell is wrong with me?
--i refused to spellcheck @ 10:50 AM | |