Hello Parenting Peeps!

I'm the new girl around here and I've put a lot of thought into how I want to
introduce myself. I woke up this morning thinking, "Gah! Must write! Must
be brilliant and eloquent! Must convey gorgeousness and fabulosity via blog post!"
If I hadn’t had a seven-month-old taskmaster hollering at me from his crib I
would have rushed right to the computer and hammered it out. But the hollering
was distracting, as well as the half-asleep conversation with my husband that
went something like this:

PHILLIP: Did you get up last night?

MAGGIE: No, did you get up last night?

PHILLIP: No...

MAGGIE: Well did you hear him make any noise?

PHILLIP: No, did you?

MAGGIE: Not until now...

PHILLIP & MAGGIE: jaws drop open simultaneously, a la primetime sitcom

PHILLIP: Did he-

MAGGIE: -sleep through the night?

PHILLIP & MAGGIE: rendered speechless for the rest of the morning 

Yeah, it was kind of a big deal. I can count on one hand the
number of times Jack has slept through the night. He's seven months old. That's
a lot of lost beauty rest, people. Phillip was so thrilled he went right back
to sleep leaving me to deal with the Slept Through The Entire Night Diaper. I had
to postpone my celebration until the morning nap, when I caught up on TiVo and
perused my new copy of US Weekly. I'd like to say I was thinking about
how to introduce myself while studying before and after pictures of Angelina
Jolie (did she or didn’t she get a nose job?!) but I wasn’t. I was thinking
about getting my own nose job deviated septum surgery, on the off chance
it’d make me look more Angelina Jolie-ish. Maybe? A little bit?

I didn't have a lot of time to think after the morning nap, because the boy
wanted to practice opening and closing the drawers on the coffee table. I know
this doesn't sound very exciting to you, but to my son, it is the COOLEST THING
EVER. And he wants me right down there at his level to experience the magic.
OPEN! CLOSE! OPEN! CLOSE! Like, can you believe it Mom? I'M OPENING THE DRAWER!

Then we had to practice army crawling. He's not quite there yet, but close
enough so that I'm not doing a whole lot to encourage him. A mobile baby will
be the death of me.

Oh, and then there was lunch. Lunch involved heating up different colored mush
to exactly the right temperature, spooning it into my child's impatient maw and
ducking out of the way when he sneezed. I didn't quite make it, so I spent some
of my valuable thinking time finding a shirt that wasn't spattered with carrots
or green beans (there are very few of these) and chiseling mixed grain cereal
off the countertops.

I'm guessing I have maybe five minutes left of naptime, which is not really
enough to introduce myself properly. So here are the pertinent details:

My name is Maggie. I write about my baby on the internet. Hopefully he doesn't
mind. I record about 147 shows on my TiVo, which I talk my husband into
watching with me late at night, but only after he has fetched me a glass of wine
and rubbed my feet. I thought I was pretty neurotic before having a
baby, but that was nothing compared to after
the baby. Luckily for me, neuroses make for excellent blog fodder.

Visit Mighty Maggie's personal blog