If You Really Knew Me…

Aug

By:

Erin Schrader

06

2012

Well well, we meet again.
So I had this extravagant {clearly a lie} blog post planned for today but then this happened:

Babysitting and bread sticks for dinner.
If those two things don’t cramp your blog post writing style, I don’t know what would.
We are going to ignore the fact that it just took me twenty minutes to get the little thing changed into her pajamas or that I have spit up running down my arm at the current moment at just go with it. 
Hey, I think I just got a new book idea: “How to Blog with a Baby” 
It’s going to be one page long complete with one word: “DON’T!”
Back to those bread sticks though. They are the ONLY thing in my parent’s house to eat right now. Well, besides some of my sister’s breast milk that I saw hanging out in the refrigerator. I hope it’s kosher that I just wrote about my sister’s breast milk. Is that weird? I don’t know these things….I don’t milk anything. 
I could keep going on about how just recently my dad was holding said baby and she happened to spit up directly IN his mouth {please remember what the baby is drinking..hint: his daughter’s breast milk} but I won’t go into all of that right now. I mean can you imagine if I would tell the whole world my father had his own daughters breast milk in his mouth?! Yikes. You are welcome I wouldn’t think of such a thing father. Love you.
Guess what. The baby just fell asleep. God bless you baby.
I just remembered I didn’t even say what I was planning to about the bread sticks: they taste like grass for some odd reason. I hate grassy bread sticks. Which leads me to my next point…
I am sure all of you have seen these “If you really knew me…” posts all over blog land. I decided it’s time for mine. If you are the one who originated this please tell me. I’d love to pay you proper blogger tribute but I haven’t a clue. 
Uh oh, baby is awake and pulling my shirt down.
Silly baby.
At what age do children learn that not every woman is producing milk?
Girls: 2.
Boys: Never. 
You know what–I gotta go. She is glaring at me. 
Baby no like blogging. 
Let’s save this “if you really knew me” shaz for tomorrow shall we?
Baby says yes.
Thanks for the breast milk talk today, it was fun.
Or at least disturbing…
“Gaaaa goooo aahh”
That was the baby saying bye.
Peace out mother lovers.
That was me saying bye.

{if we both look afraid it’s because we are}
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