Mornings? We don't do mornings.

The laws of Slothville:

1. Bed Time is BED TIME. Once Mama puts on your overnight diaper and jammies, brushes your teeth, puts you in bed, and sings you those ridiculous personalized Night Night songs, Mama is done. Capital D. Done.

2. No one old enough to call "Mama!! Moo Milk!" is young enough to have the request/demand answered during Sleepy Time. If I can go 8 hours without wine, you can go that long with no dairy products.

3. Any time before noon is an unholy hour, and Waffles won't be served. With or without peanut butter.

4. If it seems that the sun is high in the sky, but I come in your room and say "Not time for waking, time for more sleeping" it's in your best interests not to question me.

As My Waist Gets Bigger, My Brain Gets Smaller

This morning Critter asked for Waff-Waffs (waffles) with peanut butter for breakfast. I got the peanut butter out of the pantry and a plate from the cabinet.

I then went over to the pantry and searched in vain for waffles. I pulled out peanut butter, pop tarts, chips, 15 pounds of hidden candy, canned goods, and a bottle of vinegar.

"Ugh!" I screeched after about 5 minutes of fruitless searching. "Where are the damn waff waffs?!?"

From behind me a little voice piped up "Damn waff waffs in refrigerator, Mama."

I Only Use My Broom For Flying

Does it make me a genius or a slacker that I've decided it's way better to dump Smudge's and Critter's left over nugget remains on the floor and let Siesta Bumpass lick them up instead of lugging out the broom and dust pan?

Mama's Most Wanted List

Critter Smith, born in September, seemed like the world's best baby. He started sleeping through the night when he was only a few weeks old and he rarely ever cried.



"He was the quietest baby," a neighbor recalls. "Never heard a peep from him."



His Abuela remembers that "He always woke with a smile. Just the sweetest personality ever."



No one knew that something sinister was lurking underneath that rosy cheeked exterior. However, strange occurances began around the time Critter reached the 4 month mark. At first, no one thought any thing of it. But, as coins continuously seemed to disappear from nightstands and scraps of paper seemed to magically fly from the floor, friends and family began to become suspicious.



His mother, ever the supporter of her Crittopotamus, refused to listen to the whispers. "You just misplace things!" she'd snap at Mr. Critter's Daddy when he mentioned the disappearances.



By 6 months, chapsticks and cell phones were missing from purses. Pens were gone from shirt pockets. The Bumpasses even began sniffing around for lost liver snaps. Still, Critter's Mama would hear no ill talk of her sweet baby boy. "Everyone around me's going crazy" she'd muse. "I don't know why they gang up on Critter so."



Last Thursday, Critter's Mama could deny the accusations no longer when she found this shoved deep in his Chipmunk Cheek.



Alas, Critter had graduated from Petty Larceny to Grand Theft Diamond.



He served the maximum allowable sentence of 2 hours in the (play) Pen while his Mama baby proofed the home.

The HazMat Team's Coming to Take Me Away

Hello Mamahood, Good Bye "Me" Time





David has been out of town this week, leaving me with one sick, cranky Critter to deal with alone. Normally, when faced with an absent husband, I turn to my mom for support and dinner. But she's out of town, too. Which means I haven't showered since Monday. Today is Friday. It also means that I haven't eaten anything but french fries and Pop Tarts in as many days.



Madre called me yesterday from her educators conference to tell me that the human brain starts to have reduced function when one is hungry, tired, and/or lonely. Which would explain why, this morning, when I got dressed, it took me 5 minutes to realize that the problem with my thong underwear was that I'd put it on backwards.

And the Slack Mama Award Goes To...

...ME!!!

This afternoon I put Critter down for a nap in our bed. I know, I know, never leave a baby alone anywhere but his crib. DSS is on their way over here as I type. But, once Critter falls asleep, he doesn't move. At all. You have to check to make sure he's still breathing by holding a mirror to his nose, so it's never been a problem for him to nap there before.

Anyhoo, after putting him down I returned to the livingroom to try to organize the Fisher Price explosion. I realized, after a while, that I kept hearing a tinkling, clacking sound. Now, at first, I thought nothing of it. After living with a husband, a baby, and two dogs, I'm fairly used to tuning out background noise. However, after several more minutes, it occured to my fog-riddled brain that the sound was coming from the master bedroom. After another slow-gear-grinding minute or two, my brain clicked.

"The baby's alone in there!! The BABY must be making that sound!" my brain screamed to me.

I ran in there to discover this scene:



Yep, that's my Precious with a fistful of change that Darling Husband left on his nightstand.

Ironically, that's the video monitor receiver in the charging station. Maybe I should've used it today...