What Can I Tell You?
Well, I've had the project from hell at work the last couple of weeks. Just when I thought it was done, ready to go, I'd magically find a new way to screw it up. This resulted in more late nights, more sweat, yes, more BO and more frustration than I care to remember later.
It's allegedly done now and I'll breathe a huge sigh o' relief once it's finally live.
I apparently got into Betty too fast this morning, didn't duck down low enough and managed to bump my head on the doorframe, catching my lone piercing, an ear, in the process. It still hurts now.
I paid almost $50 for a tank of gas. I do not drive an SUV.
I got to skate a few practices this weekend and I'm thrilled thrilled thrilled to annouce that I finally put all the pieces back together for my shot. Now all I need to re-learn is how to aim and perhaps I'm onto something.
It was nice to be on-ice for some of my friends' tryouts to move up and support them, even if I was just there to shoot on the goalies while they did skating-oriented stuff. It was just as nice to be really far removed from having to try out for anything.
Val. Still giving us crap about enforcing a bedtime, still refusing to sleep in her nice crib. I even deck it out with some of the lovely warm receiving blankets Heather made for us before she was born, in the hope that laying down on a warm surface will help her stay asleep as we attempt to put her down. But no. There is, for right now, no laying of downs for our wee girl. So it's in the bed with us for now.
She's also pretty much giving the finger to all but the tastiest jarred baby foods, choosing instead to eat whatever we're eating. I can't argue, it all puts me one step closer to weaning.
Here's the part where you can move on if breastfeeding talk isn't for you.
I must speak the truth here (as if I have ever NOT spoken the truth here): I'm SO SO SO ready to be done with breastfeeding. If we could move her to cow's milk right now, this instant, I would do it. Suffer a few days of wearing cabbage leaves and engorgement to never have those wee little teeth on me again. Yes, I love those teeth but on my sensitive parts, I assure you, they lose their charm.
And that's not when she's biting. That's a whole other story that, like the pain of childbirth, I hope like hell I forget eventually.
We're working through the options but really what it comes down to is that I just need to stick it out for another month or so. Then we'll be close enough that we can use what I've got frozen (and, in the process, freeing up more room for frozen pizzas! Hello, my tasty friends!) and get to a year.
And then, she'll be 1 and everyone in the entire world can feed her just as well as I can.