The Internet is Afraid of My Husband. And also the baby is accidentally turning us into vampires.*

We had no internet for awhile. Well, The-Guy-Who-Knows-A-Song-About-A-Chicken had internet only on his computer. But probably the internet knows he's the one that pays the bill and so it came on when he needed it to work.

It's fixed now though so here are some pictures of the little nocturnal one:



We're trying to get her to do that sleeping thing during the night time, so we don't accidentally turn into vampires. I think that's what happens when you have to turn nocturnal against your will.





I have this book called "What to Expect the First Year" that's supposed to be helping us get her to sleep and do other fine baby stuff, but I think it should be renamed, "806 Pages Worth of Ways You're Doin' Your Baby Wrong" or maybe "806 Ways You Might Accidentally Kill Your Baby".





Or maybe they should name it something simpler like, "Everything You Did With Your First Two Babies Was Wrong."



Baby says she's going to be just fine DESPITE what the baby book says though. Because...BABY POWER!



(*Sorry about the pictures. Something has changed on my blog & I don't have any more time to figure out why it's suddenly lopping off the sides of all the horizontal pictures)

I Always Forget How Long a Day is When You're Awake All 24 Hours of it

In case you haven't met her elsewhere on the internets, here's our baby:





ALL babies were born to be held. And cuddled. You can tell, because they can't walk or get anywhere by themselves.



Our baby makes CERTAIN people know she should be held, preferably at ALL TIMES.

She even came equipped with a handy dandy siren that goes off lest anyone forget this inalienable right.



Often the siren misfires, and goes off when she IS being held:



It starts out all, "I'm angry!! I'm angry!! I'm SO VERY ANGRY!!!!!!!!!!"

If response is inadequate it changes to the sound of a forlorn chipmunk wailing, "SOMEBODY HELP ME!!!!! I'm OUT OF CONTROL!!"



She doesn't always look capable of that much ruckus, but she is.



Especially between midnight and five o'clock am. Because, when I told her we were morning people, I neglected to tell her that "morning" is between five am and noon. NOT from midnight to four am.



Once she's satisfied that the people around her remember that no part of her body should ever touch anything that is not 98.5 degrees and distinctly human unless she is thoroughly passed out (and preferably swaddled), she's much happier.



At least for a few moments until she remembers someone is supposed to be holding her.

When her siren ISN'T going off, whimpers, satisfied sighs, , squeaks, gulps, gasps, hiccups, communications of general malaise and/or content, noisy gulps, mild protests of who the heck knows what, and of course warm ups to full crying are her constant companions.



More or less if she's awake, she's making noise. And if she's asleep, she's probably still making at least a little noise.