Mother’s Day My Ass

Annabelle gave me her own special mother’s day gift yesterday. And if you think you are going to hear some saccharine stuff about her gazing into my eyes, giving me kisses and warming my heart… well you clearly haven’t been reading THIS journal.


No, Annabelle gave me a mother’s day present worthy of a true Mericle. She PEED on me.  Yep, my little precious girl, whom I waited for a year for, spent lots of money to get, hung out in a crapola town for weeks while waiting for her, peed on me on mother’s day.  MY friggin’ day.


I gave her a bath yesterday and she was all squeaky clean, smelling like lavender, and naked, wrapped in her ducky blanket snuggled next to my chest. I was carrying her over to the changing area (otherwise known as the floor of my bedroom) to put on a diaper when I felt a disturbing wetness on my sweat pants. I quickly looked down and sure enough, the pumpkin was peeing. On me. And she had a look of happiness on her face.  Welcome to motherhood!


Survey results:  Well, there was an overwhelming response to the annoying music edition of the journal.  Curiously enough, most of the respondents were former temporary residents of Kokshetau and there was an almost universal piece of advice to surviving the annoying music:  “Drink Vodka at Lunch.”  It’s interesting. This same group of people responded with the same advice “Drink vodka at Lunch” when I complained about being bored. And the same group responded with the same advice “drink vodka at lunch” when I complained about insomnia.  And the same group responded with the same advice “drink vodka at lunch” regarding my court experience.  And the same people responded with the same advice “drink vodka at lunch” when I had no water.  Are you sensing the same theme here that I am?  Maybe the key to surviving the Kokshetau experience is, um, “drink vodka at lunch”.  I have a bottle of the local swill, Harmony vodka, here in my apartment but I confess I haven’t even tasted it. I’m not much of a vodka fan. But maybe that’s why I’ve been so frustrated here. I haven’t yet learned the basic survival technique. Food for thought. Or rather beverage for thought. When in Rome… and all that.


(Somehow I suspect there will be a rash of emails in my inbox tomorrow regarding the being peed on incident and I suspect they will say the key to surviving motherhood is “drink vodka at lunch”)


Annabelle and I are working standing up (She’s pretty good but I have a ways to go). Being the brilliant baby she is, she has already figured out that she needs to hold her arms out to each side (her Jesus Christ superstar pose) to balance.  Unfortunately, due to the physics of the whole experience, I can’t get a very good picture and hold her but it’s cute. 



She now sits for 20 minutes at a time too.  Still no signs of crawling yet.


Her favorite toys are (in order):


Her book


Her mirror


This mobile thing


A rattle.

She doesn’t like her teether at all. Maybe it’s too big for her.  I tried it both cold and room temp and she just didn’t take to it.  


Finally yet a picture of the girl herself geared up to go outside. By the way, if you haven’t noticed yet, I only have one “going outside” outfit so every time we go outside…she’s dressed the same way.