Happy go lucky

Keeley has been pretty happy go lucky since I ranted on my blog. Maybe she can secretly read and became distressed! Ha!

It seems like she finally got the hint that screaming at us wouldn’t make us move any faster, feed her any more, or do anything for her any more than usual. She seemed downright complacent today, then again she hasn’t been pulling at her mouth, either. Maybe her level of frustration over pain and not being understood matched mine with the neighbors being annoying. Maybe her tooth is ready to poke through, or maybe she just got over it.

It seems like the rain should be letting up soon, hopefully our carseat will be delivered soon, and hopefully they can start working on our house pretty soon.

The holidays are coming, and that typically gets mixed reactions from me. I’m happy to be with family, but I’m not an easy person to ‘get’ and each year I get older it seems to get worse.Β  I worry about everyone thinking I’m fat, I worry about making a good impression, and now of course I have to worry about the baby making a good impression. Will she cry or won’t she, how many diapers and sets of clothes to take, what am I going to wear that won’t show that I’ve had 2 operations in the past year and haven’t been able to exercise? Answer: none. It doesn’t matter what I wear, it’s still going to show. Everyone else seems to magically lose baby weight and go back to a size zero, and while my pants are loose, they basically fall down. Halloween candy has taken it’s toll, and I’m afraid I might just bite someone’s head off if they make a comment.

I guess I should point out, in case anyone missed it from the previous post that anΒ  ACTUAL insane person would deny that there was anything wrong. I am sane and perfectly capable of being a normal, everyday, stressed out mom. At least the baby is happy go lucky!


  1. Here’s a helpful phrase… for everything from remarks about your weight to ‘the look’ from a relative that always pisses you off. “Smooch my donkey.”

    Use it freely.

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