I'm undecided as to whether this weekend was a good one or a bad one. On one hand, the Saturday afternoon part was great: dress shopping at Goodwill & assorted other tomfoolery. Our mission was to find a frilly dress for Dirk, who was about to participate in BridesMaidMania, a pub crawl for people in tacky bridesmaid dresses. (Because no one parties harder than a flock of drunken bridesmaids!) Upon hearing of this, we packed up the Boo & hit the road for some cross-dressing fun. I'd never really considered the matter before, but I have to say that I can't think of anything sweeter than fitting out my favourite straight male friend in a dress. Well. The ability to come along might've been marginally sweeter. But I'm an exiled mom now, so I take what I can get.

We were unable to find the dress section at Goodwill, so the three adults split up. I pushed Blake in his monsterstroller, casting around for some hint. I spotted three men talking loudly; two had found a dress they were dying to show the third. At least they know where the dresses are, I thought, and followed them as subtly as possible. As one pulled the dress off the rack, I knew we had to take it home. It was too fabulous for words. Fortunately, the men surrendered it willingly, perhaps seeing that I needed all the fashion help I could get. Dirk tried it on. The Fates smiled. And thus Dirk Nightshade was admitted to the swirling chaos known as BridesMaidMania.

On the other hand, Saturday night I was all alone with the baby and it was total ass. He screamed & struggled all night, making me ballistic. At about 1:00 a.m. I put him in the crib to cry because I was losing my mind and I feared for his safety. Sunday, as a direct consequence, was awful. I was dead on my feet and so full of guilt that I couldn't nap. I cried a lot.

Still, the Saturday part was brilliant, and I don't have all that much control over the baby's sleeping & waking so I should just forget about it. He's still up every two hours, and I've decided that I can stand that as long as he doesn't kick & thrash around. At 7:30 this morning he woke up, had a full feed, then practiced all of the acrobatic tricks he could fit between two adults in a queen-sized bed. But this morning it was kind of cute. Especially when he managed to rotate himself around so that he was wedged in a straightline between the Boy & myself.

"Ow," said the Boy, "his kicking hurts."

"I've been telling you that for a month," I replied.

Today it's been hot & sticky. I've been cranky as all get out, but the baby's been alright. No matter how much he suffered in his sweaty little car seat, it was all forgotten as soon as we hit the bath. Wiggling, squirming, giggling wet babies are the most fun ever.

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- Rocketbride's adventure of 6/07/2004 11:15:00 p.m.