Mean Girls

My husband has saved our baby from my evil plan of her sleeping in her own crib for once. She woke up a countless number of times since I put her down at 7:30. I attempted to be strong and stand next to her crib and pat her rather than pick her up, rock her, and eventually cave and take her to bed so she can sleep like the queen she is. My mother-in-law is right. This last round of crazy ended in him coming in and bringing her into our bed. Here I sit, avoiding finishing some schoolwork that I need done for tomorrow. I'll get back to it momentarily. Really.

I sucked it up and went to a playgroup at our local library today. AND survived to tell the tale. It initially was like my high school cafeteria experience. A bunch of women cliqued together by socio-economic status. All looking at me like they just peeled me off the bottom of their Dolce and Gabanas. I sat on the floor with Millie and watched the kids play. She was fascinated, thankfully. I say thankfully because she is a total skittish chicklet when it comes to noise, people and strange things. Also because she nixed her morning nap. Of course. A very cool looking woman came in with her child and sat across the room from me. Very crunchy and arty looking. WAYYYYY cooler than me. But she came over and talked to me anyway. And that makes her the best kind of cool. She looked arty because she IS an artist. That'll do it, eh? Nice, nice, nice woman. Cute, cute, cute son. We chatted for a while before Millie let me know it was getting to be a bit much for her. As I was leaving, one of this woman's friends came up and was introduced to me and-GET THIS-she's an anthropologist!!!! What are the freaking chances of that??? She knows my boss and a bunch of sites I'm familiar with. So, perhaps I'll go back next Friday. Perhaps I'll write about it a bit more eloquently. When I'm not exhausted. When that'll be, I don't know.