Baby mine, don't you cry...

So Zack is putting the baby to bed now. It’s so hard for me. I’ve come to terms with the fact that I love that she needs me. Is that awful? I don’t know but it’s true, nonetheless. Now, don’t get me wrong; I love that Zack is actively involved in her routines and I feel a certain amount of freedom regarding being left out of the bedtime business, but still…. She’s only eight months old and I’m already grieving that someday she won’t be my little baby anymore… I love her so…

Good God… She’s bawling her eyes out. Do I intervene? Do I sit here like an asshole, typing away??? Oh, it makes my stomach hurt. I could turn of the monitor… or I could run upstairs and take her in my arms and kiss her face and nurse her and make Zack feel like a loser and ruin everything all the while making her a happy little clam. I don’t remember reading any of this in all the crappy parenting books…

She’s quiet now…. Another glass of wine?? I think so.

Baby Maeve

Zack and Maeve "sledding"

Snow baby

M's snow suit

Maeve's new sled

Welcome to 2006

Sorry I’ve been so delinquent lately with blogging. I truly respect those who blog daily…. Here are some shots of Maeve over Christmas vacation in Colorado.

Happy New Year!!!

Christmas in Colorado

Baby genius

Mommy and baby opening presents

Playin' Grandpa's guitar

First time on the slide

Maeve first time in a swing!

Singing to Maeve on Christmas Eve

A shit sandwich

Neither Zack nor I, particularly me, is what one would call a religious person. That said, there’s got to be something to this Karma thing. Let me explain. Zack and I are shit-talkers, of the highest order. We talk shit together, we talk shit apart. Recently, perhaps even on the same day, we were both bragging to other parents about how Maeve is almost eight months old and she’s never had so much as the sniffles! Ha! All those poor schleps with their wan and sickly kids. Day care; that’s the real villain. We know it and we talk shit about it. Well, the day Maeve turned eight months, she so poetically got her first cold. We deserve it. We know. Lesson learned… If you talk enough shit, you’re gonna end up eatin’ a shit sandwich.