Ok, so I'm a real freelancer

DEADLINES:
I'm not the most religious person in the world, but I do believe in God and that He shows us signs when He thinks we need them most.
Take my post on not being sure if I'm really working right now. Sure, I have semi-regular paychecks coming in, but I was really doubting my self-proclaimed role as a freelance writer. What if I was really only partaking in a glorified hobby? Could I actually call myself a Work at Home Mom?
Talk about self-doubt, right?
But the very next day, I got my sign to shut the hell up (Yes, God and the word "hell" are being used in the same post. I told you I am not the most religious one out there...) when I saw the new copies of this month's Metro Parent magazine at the gym where Mr. L. and I work out. I picked up a bunch to look through when I got home, since I knew I had a few stories in there.
As I sat down later to glance through and see what I had published this month, I came across my three stories on April TV Turn-Off Week in the actual Metro Parent magazine, and my interview with TV personality, author, and autism activist Jenny McCarthy, along with a story I wrote on how parents can help their learning disabled child foster self-esteem in the special edition of the Doctor Mom insert.
And you know what each article said at the very end?
"Pauline M. Lupercio is a freelance writer from Roseville."
That's all I needed to see.

DIAPERS:
Buttercup had me up all night. The little devil is teething again because apparently seven teeth was not enough to round out her first year of life.
What a show off.
Anyway, I finished writing at about 2:30 last night and then got ready for bed before checking on sweet lil' Buttercup.
She was out cold and oh-so-cute.
So I debated: Should I go to sleep and then have her wake me up in an hour (like every night) for a diaper change and bottle? Or should I just cut to the chase and take care of it now, rock her back to sleep, and then get a nice solid set of shut-eye?
Of course, I took the rookie Mom route and woke the sleeping baby.
The Sleeping Teething Baby.
Not smart.
And because of my being an idiot again, Mr. L woke up every hour listening to her screams. (I don't know why he's bitching though. Being "woken up" means he actually got some sleep. but I digress.) Because just as I got her settled again and climbed into bed again, she'd begin screaming like the world was coming to an end (or a sharp little dagger-like tooth was cutting through her tender gums, but what's the difference?)
All of the Orajel in the world was not going to make The Sleeping Teething Baby that Mommy Woke Up feel any better. Oh no.
At about 4 a.m., I gave up and pulled out the living room hida-bed as fast as I could, grabbed some blankets, a bottle, a diaper, and the baby and settled in for the little bit of night I was desperate to salvage.
It took her an hour, but Buttercup finally fell asleep. Thank God.
(And for the record, I woke up to her slapping me in the face with her teething toy. I didn't ask why, but am assuming she was reprimanding me for being stupid enough to wake her up last night.)