Flashdance

First of all, I don't know why the hell I was bitching about being the mom tossing Cheerios into the backseat on the way to work. Sure, it's not the healthy let's-sit-down-and-eat-as-a-family breakfast Donna Reed had for her kids every morning, but what a boon to discover a box of not totally unhealthy snacks in your car when you're so hungry you could eat your own hand and have to get to a meeting in front of 100 parents and don't want your tummy to rumble. Once again, I bow in humility before the great parenting god who laughed at my Cheerio-to-go resistance. Will I ever not have SO MUCH to learn.

And speaking of learning, Clementine is picking up some cute and crazy things every day. When I got home last night she was so excited to see me that she did this crazy little foot stomping dance like the one in Flashdance. OK, so she didn't have the one-shoulder sweatshirt and legwarmers, but she had that little flutter step down. I was very flattered that the sight of her mother brought that out in her, but then her do it when she tossed a magnet into the kitchen garbage can and again when she saw her doll Whatti (named by my niece and I still don't have a spelling) and yet again after she tried to crawl fully clothed into the bath tub. So maybe it's not all about me, but it sure is damn cute.

What's not cute is this ugly sleep phase we're going through. Nate and I have been wimps up until recently, feeding her all night long whenever she fusses just to buy us some extra Zs. Not only do I think she uses the bottle for comfort she prolly doesn't truly need, but I'm so damn tired lately that I end up spilling milk all over me and the bed, meaning if I don't change the sheets right away the whole room spells (this whole cow's milk thing is soooo different than breastmilk). So we've stopped bringing a bottle to bed, which last night meant about two hours of whining and tossing. She rarely wakes up all the way, but she tossed and turns and kicks and screams and whines, and I can't believe any of us an get up and walk the next day. I'm seeing it as a duty to get through, though, because I think we all deserve a night's sleep. No, I'm not sleep training her or letting her cry it out hard core (she's still in our bed, after all, and I'm done apologizing for that), but I'm going to see if a few more days of bad sleep might take us to a new level of good sleep. I'm holding out for a hero here.

I gave myself a little post-nursing, your-kid-turned-one, express yourself present yesterday and have a whole new trick up my sleeve (literally). I'm pretty psyched, but I have to go back for another sitting to finish the whole thing off. I can't decide if I'll post pics when it heals up or if I'll wait until I finish it. For now, I'm going back to bed to see if I can't squeeze in another 30 minutes before the get-to-work rush sets in.