Okay fine, scheduling is good. Jeez.

Uh...can I get you some lunch or something?

Uh…can I get you some lunch or something?

I hate being wrong.

Admitting I’m wrong is even worse.

I spent months insisting that having Munchkin on a schedule would be too limiting for me and wouldn’t work for him and yadda yadda yadda.  And to be fair, a few months ago it may not have worked out well.  But as I started incorporating solids into his diet and we started to fall into a breakfast/lunch/dinner routine, suddenly everything started to fall into a routine.

And it. is. AWESOME.

Suddenly, I can actually interpret some of his crying: if it’s 10 am, he wants breakfast; 2 pm, he wants to nap.  It’s the next best thing to inventing a baby translator (a la Simpsons, love it).

So now I feel bad for all the other mom’s I encouraged to join in on my poo-pooing of the Schedulers.  I feel like I need to send a mass email telling them all, “Wait.  Stop the presses.  I was wrong.”  Maybe I should cc all the Schedulers that I smiled and nodded to (before poo-pooing their methods behind their backs).  I should probably print off the email and give it to my mother while I’m at it (afterall, she can’t log into a computer successfully, let alone open up a browser and navigate to her hotmail).

(But, in lieu of all that work, I’ll probably just quietly pretend I was really in favour of scheduling all along…I’m never wrong…)

I Swear, I Used to Have Standards: The Food and Drink Edition

As I sit here, eating a leftover Baby Mum-Mum and drinking warm, flat pop, I can’t help but think: man, I really used to have standards.

First of all, I now buy everything at Walmart, because nothing sucks worse than having to get your kid into and out of the car seat/stroller a zillion times to buy all your groceries/ toiletries/ Christmas gifts…except maybe Walmart produce…

I’ve been a Starbucks junkie since corduroy pants were cool, but there’s no drive-thru location nearby and it can be a pain in the arse to drag the munchkin in. Now, I will drive twice as far to the Tim Hortons (eh?) or McDonalds drive thru just to avoid doing so. And speaking of coffee, everything I order past noon has to be decaf, otherwise I’m dealing with a crazy, jacked-up baby until midnight. Have you tasted a decaf latte? It’s like giving a Canadian a bottle of Bud.

Oh, and don’t forget, you either chug your coffee down while it’s burning hot because you know any second he’s gonna have a meltdown, or he’s already freaking out and your drink is cold by the time you settle him down.

Same goes for food. I used to be able taste food. Now I just shove it down when he lets me, which is usually half an hour after its been served. Nothing says delicious like congealed gravy on cold turkey. Awesome.