If I get arrested, it started with foam letter mat pieces.
If I get arrested for homicide, please know it started with foam letter mat pieces...
I mentioned to my partner (yes, we are together, no, he does not help with the baby) that I’m thinking about putting the mat away because between the baby and the dog we’re babysitting, it’s just constant chaos and pieces everywhere.
His solution? “Why don’t you just clean them up and put them back together?”
Oh. My. God. Why didn’t I think of that?! It’s almost like I haven’t been doing exactly that on a loop all day, every day.
For context, the baby was up most of the night (teething? gas? vibes? who knows), so I’m running on fumes. But yes, let me just sprinkle some cocaine in my coffee and continue handling 100% of childcare, cleaning, cooking, and existence.
Also, apparently she only kept me up all night because I “let her.” I guess I should’ve set boundaries and told my infant she needs to sleep. Totally my bad.
And if I’m tired of changing poopy diapers? Obviously the solution is to potty train her instead of asking her dad to help. Revolutionary.
He’s full of critiques, rarely lifts a finger, hasn’t done overnights since she was 2 months old, sleeps in every morning, and somehow still finds ways to backhand compliment me. Last night: “That’s probably the first time you’ve made a full meal hitting all the nutritional properties for the baby.” (understand the importance of this yet she is still on formula!)
Sir.
Anyway, thank you for coming to my pre-crime confession.