Seven! Ha ha ha ha! I count seven teeth!

After what seems like a week of teething misery, the kiddo has finally managed to push an additional tooth to the surface. This one is a molar on his lower left! Woo! That makes seven, and the matching tooth on the lower right looks about ready to pop through any day now as well.

If you don't have anything nice to say....

This is more of the straw that broke the camel's back, than the full source of my frustration, but the next person who brings up that fucking study telling me how bad television is for my child's vocabulary is going to send me into a screaming hissy fit.

Defensive much? Yes! Next time someone feels compelled to offer me unsolicited advice on parenting, most especially if they do not themselves have any children, I hope they keep it in mind, and keep their damned mouth shut. I feel guilty enough about what time I don't get to spend with my baby as it is. But unless you're offering to come out and babysit him so I can take more than a 5 minute shower, and oh, I don't know, actually put on some fucking makeup and brush my hair afterwards, I don't want to hear how bad TV is for my child. He's going to watch it, if only so I don't stink. I am doing the best I can for my son, and until Russ and I can move down to a single-income family, it's not going to get any better.

I love my little boy with an intensity that makes the Arizona desert sun seem like a balmy day in Hawaii by comparison. But I work a full-time job, and I cannot spend every waking second interacting with him. I'm up by 5am at the latest, every damn day. I get up that early, just so I can have a cup of coffee and an hour of time where I am not at someone's beckon call. From 7am until 930pm at night, I am on duty full-time, either working, or watching Roy, or cooking, or doing housework - normally some combination of any three at once. Since April 9th, 2006, I have not had more than 4 hours in a row to myself (that 4 hours on my own was my Mother's day present). You know what? It's fucking exhausting. I have to schedule time to brush my teeth or wash my hair. Most nights, even if I wanted to stay up late and actually take some time to relax, I'm so tired I just fall asleep on the couch anyway. If I thought it wasn't worth it, I'd put him in daycare. But I think it's important that he spends time with me at this age, and for that reason, I keep doing it.

But it means that I'm really worn out. I'm tired in a way that I am positive none of the rest of you have experienced before. Try working 15 hour days for a year and a half straight without a single day off in a double-job (staying at home with the kiddos and not working does NOT count). I am hanging onto my sunny disposition, and not losing it in front of the kiddo through sheer willpower. So your mouth might be saying "the experts™ say this is bad for your child" but my exhausted ears are hearing "I think you're a bad parent" and that isn't helping.

So the next time you see a study in the news that shows what a bad job I'm doing, refer to the title of this post, and keep it to yourself.

UPDATE: Yes, in case it isn't obvious, it's that time of the month too. I considered deleting this after I wrote it, but I really feel the need to get it off my chest... so I'm going to let it stand.

Hot Fuzz

Some day, they'll allow you to buy movies pay per view style on their theater release date but until then, I'll probably not see movies until after they make it to DVD. And I saw Hot Fuzz last night. And if I were to give Shaun of the Dead a 5 stars out of 5, I would give Hot Fuzz a 10 on the same scale. I laughed so hard I woke the baby up. It was brilliant on so many levels... words fail. I just loved it. Too bad it's too gory to watch around the baby, because I want to watch it again as soon as possible.

All Of Our Warranties Must Have Expired This Month

Our empire is crumbling! Everything is breaking around us. First Russ and I came down with sinus infections. Then, since I was too tired and sick to cook, we managed to get food poisoning eating chinese delivery, and spent the entire weekend in utter misery. On top of that, Livvy's computer is dead, and now Russ is reduced to trying to recover her data and price out the replacement parts. Our mp3/pictures/print-server failed somehow as well, so we have to figure out how to recover the data from that. I'm typing this on my new laptop for work, since I managed to drop my old one and fry the hard drive on it, and Russ ended up having to do some sort of voodoo to recover the seven years of work documentation I had on it. And we sat down last night to watch the first pre-season game for NFL, to find out that the big TV in our living room is having some sort of problem with resolutions higher than 480, and showing weird fuzzy red lines. So now we have to take that in to get it serviced too.

I'm wondering what'll happen next? Termite infestation? The roof collapses? Sheesh.