Cake

I am SO done with cake. I made a small cake for my Mommy and Me class. Then I made cupcakes for Talise's class for her birthday. I made a small cake for at home at my mother's request. I bought a cake for myself for my birthday. I bought a cake for Talise's party. Today at Mommy and Me it was K's birthday so guess what B brought...Cake! This is the first time in my life that I can remember that I am fed up with cake. I am also a little fed up with TTC. It's taking over my life again. My husband and I argue about it. Anytime he gets mad at me the first comment is, I don't want anymore kids. Go find someone else to get you pregnant. It hurts. It makes me want to stop. Yet there is still that pull in my heart for a newborn. To feel those little squirms and hear those little sighs and squeaks. Mylie is getting so big. She still nurses and takes a bottle, but she is getting really independent and talking well. She is so smart. She has a double ear infection for three weeks now. She is fed up with antibiotics. We've gone from liquid to chewable, to liquid. We've mixed them in food, drink, forced fed, begged, offered bribes, even allowed her to have some of her daddies super sweet coffee. She'll have none of it. She had to go get a shot. Not fun! She seems to posses super human strength when angry. She had to nurse afterwards and whenever she stopped crying when she looked down and saw the band aid she'd cry some more. Well, to put the icing on the cake, she now has a yeast infection! I pride myself in my girls not getting diaper rashes. Mylie strips herself of her diaper and wanders naked as a jay bird often. She hasn't ever gotten a rash. Well, I can no longer say that. Talise had herself a boyfriend. He came to her party and behaved very well. He snuck in a kiss, on her arm. Five to be exact. She wouldn't let him kiss her face because she is a good girl! That's my girl! She broke up with him on Monday.He cried. She is catching a lot of slack from his buddies, he still likes her. I am trying to teach her how important it is to be nice. How bad rejection feels. I dread it, but I am sure her heart will one day get broken too. I feel so bad for the little guy. And his mom. Oh well.