Monday, October 5, 2009

Edward Scissorhands Lives At My House

There has got to be an easier way to keep my daughter’s fingernails neatly trimmed. She squirms like an octopus in heat whenever I try and I end up making them worse! At 9 months, with her newly developed vice-grip hands and tiny razorblades at the end of each finger, she turns my arms into hamburger meat…and sometimes her own face, which freaks me out when she wakes up from a nap with a fresh, self-induced wound next her eye. I hate to leave the house for fear someone will scream “Abuse!” Causing me to run down the street like a madwoman while Lia bounces up and down in her stroller, giggling like crazy, thinking “Weeeee! This is fun Mommy!” All the while smiling at me with her four teeth and prizefighter eye. Poor thing.

I wish I could take her to a "Baby Groomer." How easy would that be? Just like dogs! Once a week: shampoo hair, trim nails, brush teeth…hell, you could even throw in a couples massage and make it a spa day for mommy and baby. That would be a great business.


That is just wrong on so many levels. It’s 8:00 am and I’m already exhausted.


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