When our lovely, perfect little girl was born, my husband held her and cooed affectionately, "She looks just like a little Ghoulie!" Ghoulies, apparently, is a B (or perhaps C?) movie from the mid-80's. I know this now because he made me watch it with him, just to prove his point. There I sat, bored to death by the same tired haunted mansion story, when onto the screen pops -- my newborn?! No, a "Ghoulie"! But man, what a resemblance.

Tuesday, June 13, 2006

my plans, your plans

So the Big Plan for today was to attend a 7 am yoga class -- alone. The alarm was ambitiously set for 5:30, clothes selected and set atop my bureau. The Daddy didn't have to work until 11:00; I figured I could pump this morning before I left, and have nothing to worry about. (Well, other than somebody spontaneously ceasing to breathe in the two hours my cell phone was off, or crying incessantly because she was still hungry and there was no more milk, or . . .)
As it turned out, my pre-worrying was unneccesary. Growth-spurting Little Ghoulie had other plans, awakening in search of food every hour and a half. The whole night felt like our first few bleary-eyed days home together. At 4:45 I was falling asleep while nursing -- sitting up, mind you -- and decided there wouldn't be much left to pump anyway. Turned off the alarm, gave Ghoulie to her Daddy the next time she woke, and slept until 10:00. Maybe next week.
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