the smell of my desperation has become a stench

The Armstrongs, 2011

Sunday afternoon after Marlo’s nap we all got a little dressed up so that Cami could take our family portrait. And let me just take a moment here to express an opinion: I cannot wait for Marlo to be done with naps. (covers ears because of the deafening gasps, ducks head because tomatoes tend to stain)

When Leta finally grew out of her nap I thought we would all die. Life was going to be miserable and we might as well just throw up our hands, lie on the ground, and wait for the bugs to feast on our decaying corpses. You know, optimistic. Anticipatory!

Turns out life got so much better. We no longer had to plan our entire life around that nap, that scheming dictator, that bitter ex who stalks you on Facebook. Because when Leta needed a nap and didn’t take one, OH HOLY HELL, there was no talking her off of that ledge, she was going to jump and it would be the most dramatic jump in cinematic history.

Without that nap we could leave the house for hours and hours. We didn’t have to worry about loud noises waking her up. AND! She was old enough that on the days when we really needed a break, a break that her nap would have given us, she could entertain herself. We just had to make sure the pipes and bongs were stashed in the cabinet above the refrigerator.

What. Where do you stash your bong?

Marlo is exactly like Leta in that she really needs to nap. Except when she misses a nap her phenomenal breakdown is a bit delayed. She’ll be fine for the rest of that day. It’s the following day that we brace for The Blanket Wars: wherein Marlo is so miserable that she just wants to lie on the couch with a blanket wrapped around her, except she can’t get the blanket on her body the right way. In fact, THERE IS NO RIGHT WAY, trust me, we’ve tried every single way, so instead of just accepting that the blanket wrapping technique is CLOSE ENOUGH, she lies on the floor, kicks her feet, and reminds us why we decided to pay for that vasectomy.

ANYWAY, the rest of us got showered and dressed while Marlo napped, and then when she woke up I told Cami, look, we’ve got a limited amount of time with this kid. She’s that bus in that movie where if it stops it blows up. Good luck getting us all in one shot. No pressure! Remember! These are going in your portfolio!

You guys, that woman can wield a camera.

Heather B. Armstrong

Hi. I’m Heather B. Armstrong, and this used to be called mommy blogging. But then they started calling it Influencer Marketing: hashtag ad, hashtag sponsored, hashtag you know you want me to slap your product on my kid and exploit her for millions and millions of dollars. That’s how this shit works. Now? Well… sit back, buckle up, and enjoy the ride.

read more

SaveSave