"This is bullshit"...that's what I had to say about the inconsistent maneuvers that have to take place in order to get the new baby carrier car seat contraption onto the bare-bone, hopefully simple, stroller frame we purchased to use when I'm picking up Mac everyday from school.
I couldn't do it, Sean could do it, and then he couldn't, but then we both could do it, and then we tried again and we couldn't. Therefore I proclaimed the bullshit that it was and went stomping into the house.
So, we're off to a good start.
Raging PMS and pre-baby preparation don't seem to go together very well.
Last night at Babies'R'Us I think I managed to say "Are you fucking kidding me?" easily a dozen times and that was just before the bassinet versus starts-off-in-the-crib debate was over...it actually isn't a debate as so much it is a quandary...and it's SO not over.
I'm a little overwhelmed at this point (ha ha, yeah just a little)...Sean meanwhile is hanging in there, trooper that he can be.
Rumor has it that once upon a time I HAD a baby...yet you'd never know it at this point. I am all about the deer-in-highlights look lately. I think I need to just get her home from the hospital, change my first diaper or something, and just calm the fuck down. It's like riding a bike, right? Problem is the first time around my little bike didn't come home from the hospital until he was seven weeks old.
Funny, when Roxanna asked me about my weaknesses as a parent at our very first meeting a few weeks ago I mentioned cussing way too much. She looked surprised and said I didn't look like I would be the type to do that, but Sean was there to reassure her, "Oh yeah, she cusses like a sailor."
