Aly laughed this weekend! I am the only one who heard it and she was half asleep, but I swear she laughed. Just a little "hahaha" and a big smile, but it was a laugh and it made my day...heck, it made my whole weekend. And I am just tickled she has a good sense of humor, because I also learned this weekend that I will soon have no friends.
It sounds sad, but honestly I can't blame anyone for not wanting to be my friend. I will explain. My soon-to-be-friendlessness is not the result of those obvious things that one might think. I'm not going to be friendless because I either have to find a babysitter or, in the alternative, tote her along with me to dinners where she will inevitably, somewhat remarkably know exactly 60 seconds before the food is to arrive, resulting in me eating with one arm, chin holding a bottle, food dripping out the sides of my mouth. My friendlessness is also not going to be the result of my tireless tales of Pumpkin's latest achievements (no matter how minor - see above paragraph re: laughing). Although these things may be unspoken annoyances to my childless friends, I can't blame those for my impending friendlessness.
No, it isn't Aly's fault at all. In fact, there is no one to blame but myself...and that self is someone I hardly recognize and someone I probably wouldn't be friends with either. You see, I have become some disgusting half-human mutant...I have become a mom.
Point 1 - I am obsessed with flatulence. It does not matter what is going on around me, chaos, armaggedon, or someone telling me the secrets to life - if Pumpkin is trying to burp I don't want to hear it. All I want to hear is that beautiful, man-sized belch that I know is going to make her feel better. The sounds of it coming out the other end are almost as wonderful. I can tell you almost to the minute when the last time some form of gas was emitted from my child's body and I look forward to the next time I'll hear it.
Point 2 - I sway uncontrollably. I was warned by my mother-in-law and sure enough, I cannot stand still. Weeks of rocking my sweet little bundle have resulted in my inadvertent and constant swaying. I look like I should be locked in a padded room (I've seen the looks from my mostly all-male co-workers), but I cannot control it (heck, I don't even notice it). Oh well, I've convinced myself it burns calories and, more importantly, I honestly believe it is my body's way of keeping me awake after another sleepless night.
Point 3 - I have lost the use of the consonants "l" and "r." It's cute when I use the letter "w" in place of other letters with Aly ("Awy") and tell her over and over again that I "willy willy wuv her." It isn't so cute when I tell my boss that I "weceived a weport from a cwient."
Point 4 - I am oblivious to almost everything. No lie, I was sitting approximately 12-inches away from my desk phone and did not hear it ring. I was not asleep. This may be due, in part, to my sheer exhaustion, but I think it is something more. Much like with the gas, if anything else is going on around me, no matter how important, I don't know and don't care if anything even remotely related to my child is going on near me. I block out work looking at the nursery webcam obsessively; I have not heard an entire Sunday sermon since she was born; and when I do hear and answer the phone, especially if I'm at home, you can be sure I'm only half listening because if she so much as sighs I am on the edge of my seat and you are silence.
Point 5 - Frankly, I do some pretty disgusting things now. This isn't limited to the fact that I nearly always smell like sour milk, nor the fact that I change an inordinate amount of REALLY stinky diapers. No, my shamelessness goes much further than that. I realized this in church Sunday when I looked over and saw a knowing look on the face of a grandmother across the aisle. I quickly realized that in a church full of people, I had my nose planted dangerously close to my child's "other end" trying to determine whether one of those diaper changes was in order. Seriously, who voluntarily puts their own face that close to something so vile in the HOPES that it smells bad? Only a mom.
So you see, I don't blame anyone for not wanting to be my friend. I have become a half-concious, gas-obsessed, non-English speaking, shameless, swaying version of my former self. Really, it's okay...I'd honestly rather hang out with Pumpkin anyway (especially now, while she still likes hanging out with me - I'll have to make new friends once she's a teenager).
You're doin' a fine job Arab! Hilarious Blog about Hoot Owl!
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