Going crazy, taking you with me

Nine days left.
Nothing I need to do is done.
I'm too tired.
I've had some "issues" the last day or so. Private issues. Issues which make me glad I'm not having a regular birth...you know, with all the pushing...
Let's just walk away from this conversation now...together on three. 1-2-3


Baby is still sguiggling inside all the time. You'd think that HE'D get tired, but no.
Yesterday I watched some of those baby shows where the baby gets born and the parents take the baby home and fumble all over themselves. That made me laugh.
One mom was actually going to voluntarily get induced at 39 weeks (as in, not late yet) because she was "uncomfortable" and "couldn't sleep"
Uh, yeah, cause a newborn is all about comfort and sleep.
Stoopid.

Another couple, lord bless them I hope they got smarter, was planning to raise their baby vegan (which is fine if you do it right...see House last week) and also was cloth diapering and nursing, Yay!
But, the mom and dad were dumb, dumb, dumb.
The mom was feeding the baby and the dad kept asking when he was going to get to burp the baby. She said, "when I switch sides"
Then, like a five year old he starts telling her "Just switch now, switch now. Just switch now."
Ugh.
Bitchslap to that dad.
She was trying to get a one-day old baby on a feeding schedule too, so was keeping track of the minutes he nursed. It was after seven minutes that the dad was begging her to switch. Moron.
Then later on, the baby woke up from a nap and dad's first order of business was not change diapers or feed baby, but take baby out into the sunshine for a walk.
Are you kidding me????
Seriously.

I watched that show saying out loud "Where is that child's grandmother? Hurry up and visit!"
Oh boy, were they something else.

Anyway, I feel much more confident in my newborn parenting skeelz after having seen that total train wreck.

My mom will be arriving here next Friday, to take over Dylan and Elizabeth duties and also scrub my house. She's got a whole plan. She can't wait to get me out of here and safely trapped in the hospital so she can rearrange my pots and pans cabinet, launder all my curtains, clean out my freezer and all her other diabolical schemes. She's crafty like that. She'll probably figure out in two days how to get Dylan to clean his room AND poop in the potty, and then I'll have to officially canonize her and get a portrait of her on velvet to hang over my fireplace. Saint Nani!
Dare to dream!

In other news:
Last night we had spaghetti and meatballs for dinner. As Elizabeth warily eyed her serving (which was SMALL to begin with) I told her...

"This is the food you will eat for dinner. There is nothing else. There are no substitutions. Do not think that there are cookies, ice cream, cakes and candies waiting for you on the other side of this dinner. There is nothing. You will eat this dinner. This is all there is for you to eat until breakfast time tomorrow."

And she said (the little brat)
"I will think about that."

And proceeded to not eat one single bite of food.