Diary of a Mad White Boy

You’ll never believe what she did this time! She made another list of things she needs to get done this week. You’d think she would have learned from last week’s attempt, but no, so I squirmed in her arms as she diligently copied over several items from last week’s list that I didn’t let her get accomplished then and have no intentions of letting her get accomplished now.

“Iron shirts.” Why? Amelia will just spit up on them as soon as daddy walks through the door. “Move rosemary plant to backyard.” Again—why? It’s not like I eat rosemary, so why should I quit fussing just because she wants to lug that huge pot half the length of a football field? “Put baby blanket box in the attic.” Hmmm…maybe that’s not so bad—sounds like I’ll be the youngest of the family. Nope, the only thing I plan to let her do on that list this week is to “hang swing on back porch”—maybe I’ll get outside more if I generously allowed her to do that.

Today was less than fulfilling. I know I’m only 4 ½ months old, but that doesn’t mean I don’t have desires that must be fulfilled instantly! This world is just full of idiots who can’t understand the difference between “aaaahhhhh!!!” and “aaahhh!!” Seems simple to me. The first means “No, put me over there,.” The second means “I want to stand up.” Standing is just so frustrating—I see Wyatt do it all day, so I know I should be able to, and mommy does hold me up for a few minutes at a time, but try as I might, I just can’t get those legs to stay straight without buckling beneath me. Trust me when I say I practice hard.

And Amelia! That girl is going to drive me mad! I know mommy tells me daily she’s my sister and I’m supposed to love her, but she just can’t seem to get with the nap program around this house. Naps happen on MY schedule. If she only wants to nap for 15 minutes at a time, then she just needs to suck it up and wait until I’m good and done with my nap before she starts demanding food. If I could ever get control of these fists, I’d pound her for continuously waking me up because she has to eat. Who asked her anyway?

Eating is a good way to wake up, though. It’s usually the high point of my day, but today, mommy tried to trick me into taking a sippy cup instead of a bottle. That dumb Amelia, she just sucked it right down, but not me! Sure, it took me 2 ounces to figure out what mommy had done—what? I was hungry, ok?—but once I did, there was no way she could force me to take the rest of it! Didn’t take much screaming at full pitch before the rest of the milk was back in my comfy bottle.

Mommy says it’s really hard for other people to like me when I fuss and cry so much. She’s also constantly telling me she’s not picking me up until I quit fussing and that there are two other people in this house who need her besides me. Well duh, why does she think I keep fussing? I should be the only one. And if I fuss, somebody will cave in eventually, even if it’s me because I finally nod off to sleep. But, then again, maybe sleep is the best option because if I have to listen to one more of Wyatt’s Pooh Bear books, I think I’ll choke…or throw a honey pot.

Gotta get some rest—my sleep tank needs to be full to the brim so I can make mommy lose her sanity tomorrow. I’m shooting for a new fussing record!