My daughter is crying as we speak... I tell her, "Your Bahbah is coming Mama' Little Cabbage Patch, calm down," she listens. I wish this note of advisement worked for my almost three year old, Ezra.
David is searching through films on Prime and I am tapping away on you. I asked for a comedy... we shall see what he picks. My Baby Girl coo's away and she is so damn cute. So damn cute. She is bliss. Of course most people think this of their offspring, however, my little 'Lovebug' (son/first-born) has been a difficult one since THE DAY HE WAS BORN.
Night one, he cried from 307am until dawn being call colic like. Night two, repeat. Night three the same. Every night I lacked sleep, and every morning he had to be carried at all times. Now that he is two, he has a temper, and still no regular sleep pattern, regardless of discipline. He needs to be busy at all times of the day, and I don't fathom how I am not the size of a twig with the endless up and down and chasing.
Difficulties and all, he steals the hearts of most because he is wisely cunning for two and can be sweet as sugar cane. I have a feeling he has a touch of the Bipolar, and perhaps I might have a difficult road ahead, but being that myself I can aid him. I just feel terrible that I have sentenced him to a life of mental imprisonment and medication.
My son states, I want these pants on (instead of sweats) because,"They have pockets for my cars."
"Oh you Blogger," my time capsule dairy. Without you, who would I babble on to?
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