note: AllyMonster is a game that we play where we growl and she growls back. This has nothing to do with her behavior. She is a good baby.
I have eaten a lot of my words since Alyssa was born. Before she arrived, I said that I didn't want the epidural (I'm soooo glad that I got it when I did. Being maxed out on pitocin for nearly 24 hours was hell. Plus I had to have an emergency c-section. Yay epidural! Can I have another?) that I would not coddle her (yeah, like that was going to work) and that we would not co-sleep.
That one lasted about two weeks.
Growing up, I was 100% sure that when I had a child, we would not be co-sleeping. I often said "If the bible has taught me anything, it's that you don't co-sleep! It's dangerous!" Oddly, of all the bible stories I read/heard growing up, that part of that particular story is what really stuck with me. Not that being a mother means making hard choices for the good of your child, but that you will smother your baby if they sleep in your bed.
Well, after accidentally falling asleep with Alyssa while nursing, I realized that you can co-sleep and not have to choose which end of another kid you would rather have. Mostly it has been pretty uneventful.
Until last night.
This morning I was woken up, not by the usual infant hand hitting me in the face, but by inconsolable crying. I was half asleep so I tried feeding her and rocking her, but neither would work. I finally got my eyes good and open when I realized that there was a weird smudge on her leg. "Is that what I think it is?" You may remember the Olive Garden incident from several posts back. Yeah. It was.
We had woken up a little bit before that and I noticed that she was grunting and straining, but since I was half asleep I didn't really think much of it. Apparently, the force of her expulsion was so great that it blew straight out of her diaper and onto our bed... and pillows... and a little bit on the wall.
I jumped out of bed and swooped her up, trying to contain the mess as much as possible. We both got hosed down and got our outfits changed, then she played with her fancy toys, happy as a clam, while I tried to get our bed back into shape. I stripped the sheets and threw the pillows in the wash, then scrubbed the mattress and wall.
Crisis contained.
A little while later, while we were in the living room, I was keeping an eye on Ally while trying to take a nap. She's on the floor, entertained. What can go wrong, right? HA! Just as I was about to doze off, there was a thud across the room. I jumped up and ran to the baby but she was fine, then I looked over and noticed that our cat knocked all of the glasses off of the bar where the kitchen sink looks into the living room. One of them was half full, as I had been using it earlier.
Did I mention that I haven't been able to get my anti-depressants refilled?
While I was trying not to strangle the cat, I cleaned up the mess. Then I came back to see Alyssa scooting across the floor as fast as her little body would let her. (She hasn't really grasped the concept of crawling, so she just throws herself in the direction she wants to go, then scoots.) What was she after? The cat.
Now, the cat has no claws and has been neutered, so most people probably wouldn't see a problem with this situation.
Our cat's formal name is Professor Chaos Alastor Moody; Eater of Crepes, aka Mr. KittyFace, aka Bitey.
Alyssa does not understand that you can use your arms and hands for more than just beating your singing toy into submission or punching mommy in the face until she sings the right song. She has no idea that you can be gentle. She has no idea that this cat is twice her size and could smother her with his massive paw.
The cat does not understand that this tiny being is in charge.
Alyssa would shove her pudgy little fist into Chaos' side and Chaos would get mad. At first he was just swatting at her with his paws, then she grabbed his paw and tried to put it in her mouth. That was her way of saying "Hello, Mr. KittyFace. My name is Alyssa. Would you like to help me play with this toy?"
I lunged at Alyssa and shoved my arm between her and the cat just in time to get some lovely teeth marks in my forearm.
By the way, does anyone want a mountain sized cat? He makes a great belated holiday present!
The rest of the afternoon was spent saving the baby from certain doom, trying to get her to to take a nap (she refused. I am sooo paying for that right now.) and wondering when my darling husband was going to walk through the door and rescue me from this zoo.
Tonight, rather than skipping the Zoloft all-together until we sort out this refill business, I took half of a pill. Hopefully that will tide me over for a day or two. I only have a pill and a half left, so we'd better get this figured out fast.
Who knows what adventures are in store for tomorrow.
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