Dec. 22 - I'm still a Grinch

I'm just not feelin Christmas this year. I'm lookin forward to Claire openin her presents, but that's it. And really, I've seen her open so many presents already this week, its not even a big deal anymore. I don't know what's wrong with me. Maybe I'm havin some kind of wierd, delays post-partum depression. Who knows. Or maybe its the birth control I started a few weeks ago. I'm super-sensitive to that crap, and I haven't had any in my system since the summer of '09. I'm on the "mini pill," which is progesterone only, but it stiff affects me. I bet that's what it is. Stupid hormone pills!!!

But, really, we don't need another baby right now. I'd LOVE another one (or 5, haha), but not right now. I never thought I'd be one of those women who wants lots of kids, but I've turned into that. Maybe I should see how I handle Claire's "terrible 2s" first, though!

She has been SO fussy lately. Last night, we finally understood why - she's gettin another tooth. This one's on top. Finally. She's had 2 bottom teeth since August, and no signs of any more until now. I was beginning to think she didn't have any more in there!

But her teething is not the only thing we can blame her behavorial changes on. Since she started walking, she's Miss Independence, and if you try to get her to do somethin (or not do somethin) that's not her idea, she rebels! She can arch her back all crazy, she'll throw her head back, and let out this gutteral scream that sounds less like a sweet baby girl and more like some kind of tortured demon. Seriously. And she can turn on the waterworks in a heartbeat (and turn them off just as quickly!). I have a feeling her teenage years are gonna be interesting...God help us.

So yesterday when I went to pick her up after work, Paul's parents had another present for her to open. Her very own toy tractor. She absolutely loves it. Paul's mother also baked a cake, and we all ate some and attempted to get Claire to eat some. She wasn't scared of it, but wasn't interesting in tasting it, either. She smashed her hands all into it, and kept lookin at them like, "ew!" After a few minutes she was ready for me to clean her hands. Such a little diva, can't get dirty!

I am thisclose to bein done with my Christmas shopping. I don't think I've ever not been done this close to Christmas. All I have left to do is pick up a few gift cards, though, so its not a big deal. And I have a little more wrapping to do.

I usually love to wrap presents, but this year its been such a hassle for me. I have zero motivation to wrap. The only time I can wrap is when Claire is asleep, so usually after 9pm. (Every night, she goes to sleep around 8-8:30, but I nurse her to sleep, so I'm glued to her, and then I have to let her get into a deep sleep before I can put her down in the crib. Maybe I should have her putting herself to sleep by now, but oh well.) And by then I'm just so tired, or there's too many other, more pressing things to do. Like last night, there was a sink full of dishes that I wanted to wash before bed. And I wanted to get the diapers folded that I'd washed after work. And I wanted to reorganize Claire's dresser because it was too crowded in there. Why didn't my husband help with the dishes or folding or wrapping presents? Good question. He was busy watching TV. There are just not enough hours in the day for me. I could get everything done with no problem if I didn't want to spend time with my daughter. Its just, when I get home from work I know I only have 2-3 hours with her before she goes to sleep, and I like to make the most of that time. She usually doesn't get up in the mornings until I wake her up, so I don't get to spend much time with her then. So my 2-3 hours after work is my only time with her until the weekends. Depressing. I can get a lot done with her "helping" me, but I'd rather do something fun with her. And no, my house is not spic-and-span these days, but it is orderly (except for my desk, haha) and for the most part neat. I'm not a freak about cleaning it. But I do like to keep it where I don't have to say "sorry for the mess" when someone comes to visit. Aaaaaand, once again, I'm back to "I wish I could be a stay-at-home-mom." Or work part-time. But there's no way.

And once again, I'm ending on a negative note. Sorry.