I got this. Oh, never mind.

Jamie and I got the rare opportunity to spend two hours on Sunday doing girl stuff.  She picked me up for a our date and I helped her pick out "real" makeup (as in, department store counter stuff).  We managed to hardly talk about our children at all, which is quite an accomplishment for mothers of toddlers.  But we did talk about how hard it is not to have control over your own life like before parenthood, even as your child gets easier.  I mean, Dane's pretty predictable now.  He eats really well and sleeps 11 hours straight every night.  Oh, wait.  That was last week.  Damn.

I mean, really, Dane?  I swear it's like he bugs our room and when he hears us say how well the new parenting trick we tried worked out and all the wonderful reasons (that we attribute to ourselves, of course) why our child eats such a well-rounded diet, he laughs (muahahaha) and plots to bring us down from our high horse.  It's been three days since Dane ate dinner.  It's also been three days since he slept for more than two hours at a time.  Is there a newborn in my house?  Because I can't remember feeling like I knew less about parenting since there was a three-week old living in the pack-n-play in my room.  I don't know whether to start from the basics and sleep train his grumpy little butt again or if there's a more concerning issue at the root and I need to take him to the pediatrician.  There really is nothing like having a child to remind you how little you know.