Fess Up Friday!

I realize I haven't done this in a while; in fact, I've sort of fallen off the blogging wagon completely, but I'm trying to get back on track.

So, what do I have to confess? Well, remember how desperate I was to wean? I haven't done it yet. I've hardly tried. It just seems so impossible sometimes, and some nights it doesn't seem necessary, while other nights it seems like the most imperative thing ever that she be weaned right NOW. What exactly am I confessing? I'm not sure. That I'm lazy? Indecisive? Have no follow-through? I guess all of the above.

My next confession is noise related. Ever since we moved into the apartment, I've been on edge about the increase in noise outside Charlotte's window when she's sleeping or being put down for a nap or bed. We went from living in a house sandwiched between two little, old ladies, to living in an apartment complex with tons of people, their dogs, their visiting friends, their ridiculously loud children...

I get so annoyed when the kids are playing in the parking lot (I know, sad), and they're screaming past eight o'clock. My blood pressure goes up when the little, yappy dogs start up while I'm placing Charlotte in her crib for the night. And, I get SUPER pissed when some douche bags start talking about break dancing outside our windows at 1 A.M. I turn into this crochety old lady, mumbling to myself about how those damn kids need to go back to school, how I wish those dogs would run away (Oh, I'm kidding. Settle down, crazy dog lovers), and how I should go out there and give those wippersnappers a piece of my mind!

This irritability makes me a little uncool and uptight, but it also makes me a hypocrite. Because thinking back over my early and mid-twenties, I realize that I have been a total jerk about noise. I've had noise complaints lodged against my friends and me when we've moved a party from the bar to a hotel room in the wee hours of the morning. I've had karaoke parties at my house that those poor little, old ladies on either side of me were unfortunately privy to. And, I'm sure I've talked outside many windows at 1 A.M., though, hopefully not about break dancing.

I've always been a people pleaser, and I usually try to be polite and respectful. But, what can I say? Alcohol can make even the most decent of people total assholes. I try to keep these past transgressions in mind when I start to daydream about pummeling some noisy people's faces. I guess I had it coming to me. If I believed in karma, I would, indeed, be calling her a bitch.

And, finally, I have to confess that I am really struggling with the t.v. thing. I try really hard to limit the amount that Charlotte watches. I've even tried cutting it out altogether, but that is just a joke. I don't know what's wrong with me. I mean, I don't sit her in front of the television for hours, or even half an hour. But, I know the fifteen minute sessions add up. We're working on getting her to play by herself more, but she's just so damn clingy lately that I seriously can't pour myself a cup of coffee without her grabbing my leg and crying. So, yeah, I try to distract her with some Elmo when all else fails.

That's not even the worst part. The worst part is that she LIKES t.v. She ASKS to watch it. We usually don't comply, but, sometimes we do. And I feel like crap every time we do.

Speaking of which, I should stop writing and go collect Charlotte. She's in Grouchland with Elmo as we speak.

Oh, and don't forget to go visit Brooke. She IS the Fess Up Friday host, after all! This week she's talking about discipline.