The View from Lambie

So I’m guestblogging for Mommymatic since she’s had what she calls a stressful weekend (stressful-ha! I get dragged around by one foot, gnawed on, tossed to the floor and pounced on, and that’s BEFORE I EVEN GET UP IN THE MORNING). I had some catching up to do myself, since I’m just coming off my 2-month hiatus in Mommymatic’s underwear drawer (yeah, the job is hell, but the vacations make up for it). I’m not entirely sure what happened to my body double, but from what I understand, there was some crotch-diving during a particularly messy diaper change that totally went wrong, so she’s out for a while, so I had to take a few days to acclimate myself.

One thing I discovered is that the Small One has apparently learned how to air-kiss. Of course, I never benefit from this new skill since he’s apt to take my entire muzzle in his mouth when WE kiss, but apparently, it’s cute to the Big Ones, so whatever. He also said his first discernible, meaningful word. I know what you’re thinking: Out of gratitude for all my thankless hours of service here at Casa Mommymatika, it was “Lambie,” right? No? No. It was “bay-bee,” referring, I’d imagine, to that stupid newcomer “Baby Doll,” who is just so smug I could punch his lights out. Oh, the injustice. But you know, I’ve read the Stuffed Toy Manifesto, so I know who’s going to get to be real one day, and it ain’t the plastic baby dolls. We’ll see who’s laughing then.

Oh, and I thought that once the Small One started banging his own head onto the floor/wall/window, he’d finally get how I feel for most of the day and we could do a little empathy training, but no—he thinks it’s funny. Naturally. Of course, I have to say I much prefer this new time-to-get-me-out-of-my-crib mechanism than the old one, which was jamming me in and out of the crib slats, so it’s not all bad

And evidently, there was some sort of Chair Strike while I was away, because all the chairs were lying face down my first day back from vacation, and the Small One seemed upset about it. Now they are all upright and clocked back in on the job, though, so maybe they’ve come to an agreement with Management. I think everyone’s worried they’ll strike again, though, because every time the Small One climbs up in them and sits down, all I hear is “Gooooood sitting!” I mean, they’re chairs, people. That’s what they do. Do they really need the stroking? I mean, No one ever says “Gooood comforting, Lambie! Good abuse-taking!.” Hmph. Maybe I need representation.