Curse of the Internet

You know how I was going on with all that sappy crap in my last post. About how much I love my child, and how great parenthood was turning out to be? Well, I should have learned my lesson after the 1st attempt to write about Ellie's eviction notice from my uterus... posting thoughts and dreams onto the internet, for me, only brings the opposite.

For 3 whole days, Ms. BerSerker herself, the former devil-spawn, turned into the WORST SCREAMING CHILD ON EARTH. I began to fear that in the night aliens had come and taken my true, happy child and in some cosmic hoax replaced her with an animatronic, chucky-like version of her. And it was killing me. KILLING ME I SAY. The screaming was deafening... the neighbors were afraid to look me in the eye. Elliott Rose was no ones favorite child from Friday afternoon until yesterday.

We took her the the Dr for fear that she was ill, because what else would produce the screaming on that level, I was honestly surprised she was not bleeding from the ears with the way she was carrying on. The Dr confirmed that indeed she was not feeling well, but that is was probably only gas. GAS. As in, I have to fart or burp or something. Not a bleeding ulcer, not hemorrhoids from all the pooping, not an ear infection. The gas was causing pain when sucking, no sucking means no eating, no eating means no sleeping, no sleeping equals HELL. It was a vicious cycle.

Be quiet, dear internet, and do not utter this to another living soul, but I believe the gas has finally been passed. Either that, or the aliens returned my bean, mostly unmulitated and in her original condition, from what I can tell.

In Other News:

Big changes are taking place around the Ranch... BIG. Sorry for being so cryptic, more details will follow soon. And in addition, I have not watched GH since last week sometime. Someone fill me in!

-over and out-