Craig's List = P.I.T.A. (Pain in the Arse)

Why are people who respond to your Craig's List ad so flakey? As a new mom, I've made a concerted effort to buy used and sell Zora's cast-offs on Craig's List. I've even joined the local Free-Cycle to dispense with extra diapers and such.

No more.

Because I am a new mom, my time is valuable. More valuable than a full tank of gas in a Hummer. More valuable than gold on the commodities market. The other morning, Zora snoozed for an extra hour, and I was panicked. "Extra time!? Should I take a nap? Do the laundry? Flop on the couch and read a trashy magazine? Flop on the couch and read a 'smart' magazine? Watch Oprah?" The pressure was palpable. "Use your time well," a sage voice intoned, like something Yoda would say to Luke Skywalker.

But back to my rant. I've had folks reject my wares because my exersaucer was "scented" (it wasn't) and the carseat didn't match the stroller (the horror, the horror). Others said they'd come to pick up 30-some-odd Size 2 diapers and never showed up. In the meantime, I turned down numerous other offers. I gave up afternoon walks. I surrendered my most valuable asset besides Zora: my time.

So: I solemnly swear to NEVER post on Craig's List or Freecycle again. I will only donate my goods to Goodwill or an organization who can really use the stuff.

Zora Is A Punk Baby!

Well my Zora's all hopped up and ready to go

She's ready to go now

She's got her sunscreen

And she's going to the garden center a go go

But she just couldn't stay

She had to break away

Well Merrifield really has it all

Oh yeah, oh yeah

Zora is a punk baby

Zora is a punk baby

Zora is a punk baby now

She's a punk punk, a punk baby

Punk punk, a punk baby

Punk punk, a punk baby

[Not familiar with the Ramone's "Sheena Is a Punk Rocker"? Check out this clip.]

Chopped Liver

I hear intense wailing erupting from Zora's room.

First, the wind-up like a car choking to life:

"Eehh, eehh, eehh."

A brief silence as Baby Girl catches her breath.

And then...

"EEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAhhhhhhhhhh!!!"

A Niagra Falls of tears spill onto those pink cherub cheeks. Those dark eyes get all squinched up. Something is clearly amiss: Daddy is putting her to sleep, and she'll have Nunavut (hey, it's not just a territory in Canada).

For the past week or so, Mommy has been the parent of choice.

"She hates me," Rodney pouts.

"She doesn't hate you," I say sweeping up the wee wailing girl. "She just prefers me."

As quickly as flipping a switch, the tears stop and Zora flashes me her two little gerbil teeth. Someone has gotten her way, and someone else, is as our friends Jodi and Tony say, "chopped liver."

Cluck Cluck (or Transformations)

Zora needed a bottle
Stat!
So I charged out into the living room and right into

the Jumperoo

...A Milky Way of pain...

F**kf**k
F**kf**k
F**kf**k
F**kf**k

"Are you turning into a chicken?" Rodney called out.