Wanna shoot the whole day down

The Moira is like a cross between the Energizer Bunny and the rabbit from Monty Python’s Holy Grail – the one that will rip of your face with its teeth. She just keeps going and going and chewing and chewing.

I had a mild flu all weekend and felt the need to be hopped up on copious amounts of acetaminophen and ibuprophen so I could keep the chills and aches away. However, try I still managed to spend the entire day yesterday cleaning the apartment – at least those parts of the day when Baby Fang wasn’t whining at me or clinging to my breast with her teeth. Most notably I finally finished her room and hung pictures and an old quilt on her wall (the Mister hopes this will dampen the sound). We are slowly going through the process of shoving our crap into places where she can’t reach organizing the apartment so Moira has more floor space with which to drag herself around.

Moira’s whining has reached new heights lately. This leads me to suspect that she was/is also feeling flu-ish, sildenafil going through major milestone, nurse (she is on the verge of crawling and is chattering up a storm these days, first words are going to be Dada, translation: Dada thank gawd you are home!) and gets bored of me really easily. When we are at home during the day her interests are: chewing, chewing, chewing, nursing, chewing, chewing, nursing and nursing. Today her whining got so bad I decided we would do two things I can’t stand: 1) leave the apartment when it is -30oC out and 2) go to the Mall in December. I put Little Miss in her crib while I went to warm up the car, came back, calmed her down from being abandoned for five minutes, bundled her into this Valley of the Dolls snowsuit…

Bundled myself up, got to the car… and realized I had locked the car with the keys in it. The car that was currently running. Don’t ask me about the extra keys – that is a sore spot right now. Let’s just say the car ran for an hour until I realized I could pull the driver window out a little bit and thank goodness for skinny arms with no muscle tone.

We never did get out of the apartment. (I’m sure Moira is sick of my whining.)

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