My Mama Just Don't Understand

It's come to my attention that I have become the topic of conversation for most of my mom's blog posts. Sure, she thinks she's funny and clever and I'm sure some of you other moms might relate, but did it ever occur to you that it comes at the expense of your beautiful baby? And furthermore, did it ever cross your mind that perhaps we babies are just as frustrated with your mommy antics as you might be with our sleeping and spit up habits? Hmmmm? You didn't, did you. Just as I suspected. It's all about oh woe is me, I'm a mom, my days are long and arduous and I don't sleep and I have a coffee intravenous needle permanently inserted into my arm. My clothes don't fit, my clothes are contaminated with spit up, I never have a chance to shower. Blah blah blah.

Oh and yes, I did say arduous. What, just because I'm a four month old baby who predominantly coos and goos and eats my feet you don't think that I have a rather extensive vocabulary? While in utero I often heard my mother complaining (something I'm finding that she does rather often, actually) and using all sorts of words that I stashed away in this growing brain of mine and will be bringing out for future arguments I anticipate future me will be having with that lady with the boobs.

So while my mom thinks I'm napping - I mean seriously, does she even read her own blog? She should know first hand that I'm fake sleeping - I have decided to use her complaint arena to set the record straight. Babies everywhere should not have to suffer the indignity to which she is subjecting me.

Let me address Oh Un-Holy Night. Of course I woke up every hour. My  mom spent the entire month of December telling me about how Santa Claus was coming to town, how he knows when I've been sleeping and when I'm awake. First of all, how creepy is that. But second of all, I'm no dummy. I knew presents were coming. Oh, she talked a big game about how I'd never remember this Christmas so Santa wasn't going to bring a gaggle of gifts, but I knew better. I had just recently started smiling a lot and this seems to make that woman so excited and think I'm the best thing since cheese. My mom really likes cheese. And pickles. And wine, which she blames on me and again, it is totally unfair to babies everywhere. So anyway, back to Oh Un-Holy Night. I was so excited about this Fisher Price Jumparoo Santa was bringing me. My mom kept talking about it right in front of me as if I couldn't understand a single word. It kind of ruined the surprise and made me giddy with anticipation, so what did she expect! All I could think about on Christmas Eve was how the next morning I would be jumping with glee and surveying all of my presents. That mom of mine can be smart, but on this occasion she really didn't think it through.

Now calling me Osama Bin Baby is just downright mean. I am no terrorist and even if I was, she rarely negotiates with me. Even when I cry I feel like she never gives me what I want. By four months, don't you think she would know my tired cry versus my hungry cry? She always gets them mixed up and frankly, I'm just getting annoyed. I know that when she gets annoyed she too gets very grumpy and I have seen her cry on a number of occasions. In fact, I have caught my daddy rolling his eyes more than once when my mom becomes a weepy mess. I really feel that she of all people should understand that sometimes when a girl is misunderstood, she becomes emotional. If anything, she is an emotional terrorist because she doesn't understand me one bit. Talk about not validating my feelings.

And finally, that list about what she wished she had known about newborns is just ridiculous. It might be hard being a new mommy, but try being a newborn baby with amateur parents for crying out loud! There you are, all cozy and warm in a nice sized belly (which she keeps complaining about which is so lame. Had it been any smaller, I would have been very uncomfortable and I don't know why she wants me to feel squished. She is really really mean sometimes.) and suddenly you are rudely and abruptly whisked from your home and expected to be all cool about it. In my case, I was born by a cesarean section and if that doesn't traumatize you I don't know what will. So sure, I cried in the middle of the night. And yeah, I wanted to eat a lot. You try being born! It's a tough and scary business being a baby and it would be nice if you would think back to your first year and have a little empathy. It's a big world out here and I'm just a little baby, trying to get by. Geez.

Oh and by the way, I have a tooth! So my sleepless nights and sometimes cranky behavior was because I had a sharp little dagger making its way through my gums. Sure, my mom gave birth but this is the baby equivalent to that so I think my grumpiness was warranted.

I think the boob lady hears me typing so I have to go now and fake sleep some more. I wouldn't want her to figure out that I have hijacked her blog being the baby terrorist that I am and all. If there are any other babies out there who feel me, share this post!