Come on, you know you want to (or succumbing to Twitter peer pressure)

I know nothing. I readily admit to this.
And yet, without having the slightest inkling of what I am doing, I am now attempting to Twitter. (See my newest random babble at left by my Twitter widget.)
The blogging world is ablaze with people tweeting and I just had to get up and jump on the bandwagon. Had I an actual clue at this point, I might feel less like I got caught in the high school girl's room smoking with the cool chicks just to look cool. (Come on, you know you want to. What are you? Chicken?)
It's kind of sad how it happened, really. There I am, innocently surfing up the blogosphere while I should be working on the two current magazine assignments I have due on Wednesday, and I just kept coming across Twits and Tweets and Twitters galore.
And I still have to finish those articles.
Right. And instead of jumping in on the newest game in town, like, forever too late, like I did with the blogging thing, I figured I'd jump in now.
So fellow Twitter peoples out there, look me up (my user name is berriesweetest) Let's Tweet, or whatever it is that we do now that we do this Twittering thing.

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.)

Fire men and growing babies

DEADLINES:
Almost done with one story. Thank God.
Then I can crank out the second one tomorrow before I wait for the lull between the Crazy Deadline Storm that comes with freelancing.
Feast or famine!

DIAPERS:
Interesting day today.
First I took Buttercup for her 9-month check-up. She is "perfect" (pediatrician's words, not mine. But I happen to agree.)
Stats: 20 pounds (75th percentile)
28.5 inches long (75-90th percentile)
17 inch head (50th percentile)
Then we went to Kmart to get some stuff, and then got stuck in the parking lot waiting for the Fire Department to show up because I couldn't get the car seat strap to tighten-it was totally stuck. Turns out it was an easy fix, and the car seat expert guy showed me how to address the issue, should it arise again.
(And yes, I feel like an idiot.)


Oh well. Live and learn.

And the award for Best First-Time Mom of the Year Moment goes to me, of course.
After our little car seat adventure ate up an hour of our time (and made Buttercup late for her own nap),she was a tired little Diva when we got home.
I got her out of the car seat, into the house, and into her crib without even a peep.
And then what did I do? Yep, I tried taking off her winter jacket.
(You can point and laugh now.)
Granted, she only fussed for about a minute when I got it off and covered her up, but a veteran mommy friend of mine thinks it is hilarious that it didn't occur to me to leave the jacket on, like most experiences mommies would do.
Again, live and learn.

The Great Flake

DIAPERS:

Plain and simple. I am an idiot.

Buttercup is spending the night at the in-laws's house (par-tay at Grandma's crib) and I have a baby-free night (St. Patrick's Day, to boot!) and what am I doing?

The smart answers would include:

a) getting into bed at a reasonable hour and reveling in the fact that I don't have to keep one eye open "just in case."

b) getting in some "quality time" with the husband.

c) grabbing a drink with a girlfriend and not worrying about what time I get home (hey, I work from home, after all...) since I don't have to worry about being woken up in the morning until I feel like getting out of bed.

d) finishing a good book/watching some non-baby TV/soaking in the tub with some bubbles and a glass of wine.

But am I doing any of these? Nope. Instead, I am scrubbing kitchen counters.

Brilliant.

********

On a positive note, we can all sleep in peace knowing that some schlub out in cyberspace is about to plop down over $200,000 for a freakin' Frosted Flake shaped like the state of Illinois.

Makes you wonder how the little flake was discovered. Did the seller stop, mid-pour in their breaksfast cereal bowl, and gasp in amazement at the flake-sized replica of The Great State of Illinois? (I wonder how many unrecognized states I have eaten in my life!?!?!)

And at what point did they think "Thank the stars I didn't just eat a $200,000 Corn Flake!"????

I am now inspired. I think I'm going to quit freelance writing and become a Frosted Flakes Hunter. Looks like it can be pretty profitable.