okay, i’ve been cheerful long enough. done now. :)

i tried to bring my most positive, reflective self to what posts i eked out over the holidays. now that the house has been purged of chocolate, though, and daddy and the multiple grandparents have all departed for those outside-the-house things they normally do all day, i am not feeling quite so bloody sunny about the gleefully biting little terror that is my eight-month-old. today, i’m with Linda over at Purple is a Fruit. today, i would like permission to mention that sometimes this “being home with the baby” thing sucks some serious, whiny, dirty little ass. amen, sister Purple. sometimes i just don’t feel like being patient and entertaining all day.

does Disney do house calls?

i thought not.

how about Captain Morgan, then?

bah. i suspect that the glamourous allure of drinking in the afternoon wears off pretty quickly, leaving one feeling even more like a haggard Joan Crawford-esque mommy dearest…but i’m still tempted. i’m grumpy, and frustrated. i feel housebound. heck, i AM housebound. literally. and it’s kinda my own fault, which only makes me grumpier.

Dave went to work with the stroller in the trunk of the car this morning. like i said, my bad. i could have retrieved it from the trunk just as easily as he could have, but never thought of it…though in my defense i was NOT the one who popped out to the car at ten pm last night and dug the bottle of absinthe we bought on our New Year’s trip to Halifax out from under the stroller without a care in the world, admittedly. (insert glare in Dave’s general direction, here. very impressive, withering glare). i also did not drink any absinthe, for the record, lest you all begin to suspect me of being a closet drunk. i just like to imagine myself in altered states…the reality takes too much recovery when one has to wake up and be mommy at six in the morning.

i’m the one who insists that we be a one-vehicle family because i can’t see the sense in paying for craploads of car and insurance when we live in a town that one can walk across in forty minutes, so i accept that i’m not always as mobile as i’d like. sometimes O & i get housebound, particularly in bad weather, and that’s usually okay.

but today is sunny and warm and picture-perfect, at least for strolling. and my fussy boy and i had a much-looked-forward-to “playdate” with our mommy coffee friends, who help keep me sane by getting me out of the house midweek every week and commiserating with me about how mommyhood isn’t all sunshine and Gerber babies. but, as Oscar now weighs a rather strapping twenty pounds even before his snowsuit is forced onto his unwilling body, i require the stroller if we’re going more than, say, thirty feet…and the coffee date is a twenty-minute walk away. you see my problem here.

so, while my lack of mobility may lie largely on my shoulders, i still believe that certain circles of hell are reserved for fathers who accidentally abscond with the family stroller on the sunniest day of the winter, and then turn out to be “in a meeting” all afternoon while the mothers of their children frantically call/skype/curse them. particularly when said children have already been bundled, flailing, into the cruel horror of their Evil Snowsuit before the stroller has been discovered to be missing.

i also believe that the Baby Mum-mum cracker bribe (note attached photo, titled “A Boy’s Best Friend is His Cracker”) is a perfectly acceptable way of coping with a fussy, stroller-less baby on a sunny afternoon when all you wanted to do was get the hell out of the house and see grown-ups and are bitterly tired and disappointed and wondering where all those nice, comforting Christmas chocolates got to, anyway.

the Baby Mum-mum cracker bribe also buys time to write a rant, and publish it…particularly if you have a large backup supply of crackers.

thank the lord for small mercies. and don’t report me to Children’s Aid.

just send Dave home with that damn stroller, already.  and maybe send me on another vacation? :)