Twists, Turns, Baby Poops, and Outlining

I am still plugging away on my outline.  I had hoped I would be finished with the outline and on to the scenes by now, but my days off did not go as planned.  As usual.  Why is it that whenever I plan a couple of days off, Maya and I invariably become violently ill?  No sniffles or sneezes this time; we were full-on into intense vomiting sessions, body aches, chills, and… other stuff.  My poor baby is still actively participating in the other stuff, which frequently requires an immediate hose-down from her armpits to her toes and an onslaught of disinfectant on all bathroom surfaces.  It’s practically a part of my daily routine now.  Fortunately, the teen seems to have a superhero immune system, so he’s in the clear.  Knock on wood…

At any rate, another twist in the storyline fell into my lap today.  I scribbled the idea into my notebook, pushed it aside, and then balanced my checkbook.  I’m not sure about it—the minor twist that is, not my ability to compute basic arithmetic.  I like it and in the overall scheme of things it won’t distract from the plot, but will it add a touch of oomph?  Because if it doesn’t, then it’s not worth the screen time, therefore it’s not worth the time it will take to tweak the plot.  So, I need to think about it.  Maybe sleep on it.  Yet, I don’t want to waste too much time waffling.  Ugh.  Writing.  I should probably just go for it and if it doesn’t work during a rewrite, then remove it, but keep on tapping away. 

Meanwhile, I have a dozen or so confessions to dream up.

If any of you sinners out there care to share your transgressions- especially the freaky-deaky ones, hit me up.  Truth is always far more interesting than fiction.


Maya’s First 525,900 Minutes

Dear Maya, my darling little stinker:

This first year with you has been quite an adventure.  I suspected that if I ever had another baby, he/she would be the exact opposite of my mellow Josh, and I was right on the money.  At the beginning, you didn’t let on to your real self.  While we were in the hospital, the nurses couldn’t stop talking about how you were such a beautiful, quiet baby, and it’s true; you hardly made a peep!

However, by the time you were a month into your life outside the womb, you unleashed your true nature (should you not receive your food PRONTO.  Raawr!  You love to eat.  And when I say love, I mean LOVE.  Anything I place in front of you, you will eat.  For that matter, you will try to eat anything you find on the floor, too.  Even a stray bit of chopped-up onion.  You’re like a puppy.

You’ve hit all your milestones right on target, but I will say you’ve done so with attitude.  You don’t have a fear of strangers so much as distain.  You’ll sit in the shopping cart, batting your gorgeous blue eyes and smiling with those full cupid lips, but should anyone approach, your grin turns into a snarl.  What a tease. 

You don’t talk; you holler and everyone must pay attention.  You don’t walk; you march and all the other toddlers follow you whereever you decide to go.  When you want something, you are determined to get it (even if someone else already has it).  And when you poop, my lovely creature, you explode with such force I must throw you in the tub, clothes and all. 

The only thing I wish you’d do is say “mama.”  Well, say “mama” and sleep.  Please sleep! 

You’ve developed such a funny personality over this past year, humoring us with your facial expressions and hulk impression even tonight…

Happy 1st Birthday, Maya!  I love you bunches.  Love, Mommy


*For personal reasons, I have removed recent photos.  Friends and family may view them on my Facebook page.

Sleepytime Fail

Operation Sleepytime-Sans-Sleepsack is not a success. 

I repeat, NOT a success.

I know this for a fact because, once again, I was blessed with only 3 1/2 hrs of sleep last night due to Miss Maya’s restless leg syndrome and apparent insomnia.  I questioned whether I could start her on Lunesta and Mirapex, but since she’s under 1 year old (until tomorrow), it’s frowned upon.  Bummer.

Okay, speaking seriously now…  I know she has simply outgrown her mini-crib.  Poor thing is half my length already and gets her arms and legs stuck in-between the bars.  The mattresses for the mini-cribs aren’t the greatest, so I’m sure that has a part in this equation, too. 

There is a small glimmer of hope on the horizon: my brother still has the crib they used for Alex, so if he can gather all the pieces, I’ll only need to shell out the dough for a mattress and believe me, I am willing to buy a high-quality mattress for the little miss if it means I finally get some desperately needed shut-eye. 

Until then, I think I need to run her butt ragged so that she collapses into bed and falls into such a deep sleep that she barely moves all night.  I think I should work on that plan tonight because I have to be up bright and early tomorrow to bake her birthday cake and cupcakes and decorate.  Whoo-hoo.

One year old.  Holy smokes.