Who's Your... Grammy

I should have shut my face. I shouldn’t have said a word about my little jealousy with THAT other woman who thinks she will be a grandmother to MY grandbaby. The Man thinks I need to stop with the Grandmother rivalry. Ha, she isn’t a real grandmother to MY grandbaby, so….. … just thought I should have been able to have her overnight before HER!

Ok, so I should have shut it.

“Hi mom, I want to go out tonight, will you watch The Baby overnight?”

“Of course!” Anything to keep THAT other woman away.

I’m stupid.

The day starts out just fine. The focus on The Baby is all we do. Gotta watch The Baby, entertain The Baby, feed The Baby, change The Baby, talk to The Baby, baby, baby, baby.

We did manage to go out to eat with The Queen. She hasn’t seen The Baby in awhile, so this was nice. Of course we went to an all-you-can-eat Mexican buffet. The Man is in his glory. The Queen was taken by The Baby’s antics. Turning around in her seat, laying her head on the table looking at me or The Queen. Screaming, throwing her toys on the floor and making a mess with the food she had. Good thing she’s cute to US!

We get her home and she goes down for a nap. PERFECT. I’m going down with her! Ha!!! I can do this, no problem!

By the time I get comfy, and I JUST drift off to sleep, I open my eyes to see that The Baby is wide awake and in my desk drawer. Her playpen is wedged in between the bed, the dresser and my desk. I keep my perfume, deodorant, creams and make up on the desk. She pulled out the drawer where I keep OTHER stuff and pulled out a pack of gum before I could see upside right.

Ok… back up again. Change The Baby, feed The Baby, entertain The Baby, watch The Baby. Good Lawd… does this ever end? And now she crawls everywhere. So add FIND The Baby. I need to put bells around her neck or something. I’m so afraid that in a moment of inattention she will be eating out of the dog bowl. I can just see it.

We go outside, we go inside, we go outside again. Forget opening doors, I want a revolving door put in. There’s too much “STUFF” to carry in and out all day. Stuff you can’t LEAVE out, she has to HAVE it at all times you know.

It’s getting late, and so in a moment of brilliant disillusion, I decide that we should take a bath. So now we undress The Baby and we both get in the tub. Yes, I forgot that when MY fat ass gets in the tub that the water level reaches WELL over The Baby’s head. *sigh* So I let some water out while struggling to hold her slippery, splashing little self. She gets to splashing so hard that not only does it cause HER to hold her breath, but ME too! She grabs a cup and dumps it on her face, causing her to choke. GREAT. She squirms and moves, and splashes so much that I’m struggling to hang onto her. How does her mother do this without having heart failure every time. Try watching a baby with soapy water in your eyes, go ahead, I’ll wait… yea, that’s what I thought. Keep a towel handy!

After the water is drained and I put her OUTSIDE of the tub, she’s crawling all over the bathroom trying for an escape to her NEXT big adventure. *sigh* I’m tired!

I finally get her powered, lotioned, dressed. I get something that looks like clothes on me, and get The Baby’s bottle ready, give her medicine, do her nebulizer, and she’s ready for bed. She’s a good baby when it’s time for bed. Her mom says she sleeps thru the night, I’m so happy AND exhausted when she’s down for the night! I’m so tired that I get the pooping stare going on.

Finally, The Man and I crawl into bed for the night. I’m exhausted, but am having a hard time falling to sleep. But after about an hour, it happens.

Then The Punk lied.

3am is too early even for The Man to get up. So I put The Baby in the bed with us thinking she just needed reassurance. She’s in a different bed than her crib at home. I am barely awake.

Kick, kick, smack. “na, na, na, na, na na” Smack.

The Man opens his eyes to find The Baby staring back at him… SMACK, kick.

Ok, time to get her a bottle. So I stumble to the kitchen while The Man entertains The Baby. This is not good. How does she stay awake so long and act so happy on such a small amount of sleep. *GROAN*

She goes back to sleep after a bottle, and The Man and I finally settle down enough to go back to sleep too.

We beat her awake in the morning and end up tip toeing all morning. After ½ hour I quietly open the bedroom door to see her standing up in the playpen calling China on the house phone. OMG. I will have to clean off the desk before she stays over again.

Finally, a well rested looking Punk takes The Baby home with her.

“Again, you need to stop this grandmother rivalry. It’s going to kill you.” The Man says to me after they are gone.

I don’t care, I am STILL the REAL grandmother. Now I understand why so many marriages fail after the baby is born. It’s all about the baby and not about the relationship anymore. And with smart assed comments like that… someone is going to end up dead, and it’s usually the father, or grandfather in this case!

And I still need a nap.