Oh Baby!

Why do I look at her and cry? Look at her sleeping like a little angel. She's beautiful. She's such a tiny thing. Why am I so afraid of her? I better rub the morning out of these eyes, and hop in the shower. In an instant, this sleeping beauty turns into the beast. Oh, that's a terrible thing to say about my baby girl. Oh, but it's true. I run into the bathroom, and sit down on that porcelain throne, that probably hasn't even been cleaned yet this week, or maybe two weeks. I'm going to close my eyes for a second, and then, I'm out, only to be awoken by a crisp, shrill cry, that shakes me down to my soul. I jump up without realizing that water is dripping down my leg. Is that pee? I think so, and so it begins.

I get Abby out of her crib. I

walk into that girly pink bedroom, and the odor is incredible. What is that?

Did I leave the dog in here? I peek into the bubblegum shaded bassinet, and see

my little princess covered in, what was very similar to mud, only the odor told

me it was not mud. I was just in here looking at her. How does this happen so

fast? I picked her up and wiped her down the best I could. I then carried her

kicking and screaming into the bathroom and ran a tub for her. Now mind you, 6

am is way too early for this. She continues to exercise her lungs, and I

proceed to exercise mine. Now here we are in chorus, sharing our frustration,

maybe with each other. What happened? She is loud and smelly, and now I am up

to my elbows in baby shit. Because of the crying coming from both of us, it was

the quickest bath in history, but did the best I could. I took Abby out of the

tub, and placed her on the changing table in her room, which still smelled

badly. I proceeded to dress her, and realized that I left the diapers

downstairs. I carry the naked baby still screaming downstairs, and locate the

diapers, grab one out of the box, and proceed to wrap her in it. I had sent

Nick to the store last night. and the diapers are too big. Of course, he bought

them too big. As I picked up Abby, the newly taped diaper fell to the floor.

Shit! I picked it up and grabbed a new one, and some tape, and make it work. It

doesn't look so great, but we're good. I grab the bottle out of the fridge, and

warm it up, ever so slightly. Abby is still crying, and I swear she is cursing

at me. I grab a onsie out of the laundry basket and continue to get this little

beauty ready for the day. Please stop crying little girl. Please stop crying.

Oh my God, when do they start to listen? I let the dog out, and went to grab

the bottle from the heater. I taste it, and scream. Abby was starting to close

her eyes, but now she is wide awake again. I now feel a blister forming on my

tongue because the formula was too hot. Now cold water is the answer. The

doorbell rang, and there was my neighbor with Max, our dachshund, in his hands.

He had gotten out of the yard, and was trying to procreate with Shelby, the

neighbor's dog. I laid the baby in the pack-n-play where she continued to cry

waiting for the too hot bottle, that is now probably too cold. I grabbed Max

and put him in the crate. I told him he's a bad boy, and I feel like he's

staring at me thinking "Listen to her, and I'm the bad one?" Nick was

up and out very early today. I swear he leaves early on purpose. I lift Abby

up, and she is all wet. That diaper is not holding like I thought it would.

Holding her wet self, I ran back upstairs hoping to find just one diaper that would

fit. Luckily, I found half a box in her closet. Whew! Now we're back in

business, dry pants and a clean, dry outfit. Ready for the day. I went back

downstairs and grabbed the bottle out of the cool water, right where I had

placed it minutes earlier. I sat in the rocking chair, covered Abby, and threw

the burp pad over my shoulder. Within seconds, Abby finished an ounce of

formula. Poor thing was starving. I flipped her over my shoulder and tried

burping her, finally, she burped, and her eyes were closing. Do I let her

sleep, or do I try to feed her some more. I needed a shower so I laid her down

and hopefully can get in a quick shower. I've mastered the one-minute shower. I

turned on the shower, and went to sit on my bed for one second and grab my bra

and panties out of the drawer. I tilted my head back, only for a minute.

Apparently, a very long minute. Again, Abby woke me up with the shrillness of

her cry. I had been out for 30 minutes. Oh God. I ran to the bathroom, and

water was all over the floor. The bath mat was pretty much floating. In my

hurry to take my shower, I never released the stopper, and now the tub was

overflowing. I can't deal with this day. Should I call Nick at work? Maybe, but

didn't think he would come home so why bother. I shut off the water and ran

back downstairs to my little one with my robe flinging open as I ran. The phone

began to ring, and I decided there was no one I needed to speak to right now nor

wanted to speak to for that matter. I picked up Abby and gave her the rest of

her bottle. She very easily finished it, and her eyes were closed again. I just

sat there looking at this beautiful creature I had created wondering when int

would get easier. We rested together for a few minutes, and then I brought her

upstairs and sat her in her little rocker while I sopped up the water in the

bathroom. It looked worse than it really was. I turned the water back on and

finally got into the shower. A quick minute shower gave me the wake up that I

needed. I left her in her rocker, and proceeded to do some laundry and clean up

a bit. Baby laundry seemed to back up very quickly. Maybe it's the three or

four outfits a day, burp cloths, sheets, blankets, and whatever else got

covered in poop or throw up. After throwing the first load into the dryer, Abby

woke up. I was wearing a clean shirt, which means no baby stains on it. I

picked her up, and up it came. This morning's formula was all over me. In a

very short time, I went from dressing impeccably to wearing baby formula on my

clothes and shoes. Sweat pants became the outfit of the day, and I owned many

colors. Yikes! Now, not only did I have to change her again, we had to change

me, and it was not even lunch time yet. For the next few hours, I carried Abby

around my neck like a necklace. She just hung out, and I tried to carry on with

my day, more laundry, locked the gate so Max didn't get out again, emptied the

dryer, and finally had my first cup of coffee. I sat in the rocking chair again

and called my sister Liza. Liza was home with twins, and I admired her. She had

her act together for sure, and I was sinking. This is the most exhausting job

in the world. How do people go back to work, and continue to be a good mom? It

has to get easier. I heated up another bottle for my girl, and rocked her and

sang to her while we waited. Her eyes were wide open and she was responding to

the sound of my voice. This was a perfect moment. She started her bottle again,

and with my free hand I turned on the TV. Perfect, The Real Housewives Of

Orange County. They are horrible women, but senseless TV is what I needed

that second while my little beauty fell asleep in my arms. I placed her in the

pack-n-play, and was hoping for a two-hour nap. Once she fell asleep, I took

one too. When we woke up, it was time for me to start dinner. Nick would be

home soon.  This was a long day, but no

longer than any other day.  We still had

dinner to make, another bottle and hopefully Abby in bed by 10:00.  Hopefully, I could stay awake until then.