A Surprisingly Sane Blog

I’d have sold her on the black market long ago.

Yes, that’s the monster. Right after she completely demolished a banana for breakfast.  Notice its remains are everywhere except her mouth.

Don’t get me wrong.  I love her.  Really, I do.  But that child is the reason I’m begging my husband to get his balls snipped.

She is, without a doubt, the most obnoxiously loud little person I have ever met.  It’s not a surprise, really.  The second she emerged from my stinging loins and popped out of the water, she hollered loud enough to spark Washington D.C.’s radar and send the members of the White House into a panicked frenzy.

Okay, to say she is merely loud is a gross understatement.  Her favorite thing to do (besides laugh maniacally while flashing her huge dimples and chomping down on my boob with her fangs) is screech.  Not like a cute little squeal, but a full-blown, warrior-just-got-a-limb-blown-off, animalistic jungle cry.  The call of the wild. The kind that makes my ears pop every time and I only wish I were kidding.  Oh, and that’s when she’s happy.  Don’t even make me describe her pissed-off scream.  You’ll be covering your ears while your windows shatter just imagining it.

Sometimes I wear earplugs around her.

In addition to her ridiculous set of pipes, she’s also the daredevil child.  If it’s a choking hazard, it’s in her mouth.  She’ll attempt a double back flip with a twist out of your arms without warning.  And if she sees something she wants, like a computer cable or an electrical outlet or a pile of dog shit, she’ll be into it before you ever see how she got there.

And people wonder why I’m exhausted all the time.  Keeping that child out of harm’s way is more than a full-time job.  Oh, and I have a 3-year-old as well.

But hey… at least she’s kind of cute, right?  Oh, and that’s not even mentioning her infectious laugh, her great sense of humor, her adorable personality, and her ability to collect compliments from nearly every stranger passing by including the teenage boys who hate babies.

I mean, she’s got her great qualities, too.   But holy hell, that voice.  Maybe I ought to stick her in vocal training for the opera now.

Anyone have a clue how to train her to speak in an “indoor voice”?  I’m out of ideas, and I think I’m going deaf.

Current Mood: Alarmed