My dear friend, The Giant Panda has taken off on an adventure to Mongolia for her work. The Panda is a top photojournalist and while I envy her exciting, mad-dashery lifestyle, I cannot help but notice that she has left behind her baby. With me. To take care of.
For the purposes of this blog I shall call my newfound charge King William. The King and I have been together since November the 3rd and I must say, I don’t think I’ll ever see sleep again. The King, a mere 3 months old, goes to bed between 7 and 8pm only to wake up every hour on the hour all night long. The first time I heard his bloodcurdling screams I thought that we were under attack by pirates. Grabbing my saber, I rushed into his room only to find nary a pirate in sight. Instead I was greeted by a tiny person in his bassinet, eyes closed, arms waving madly. It has continued as such all night long, night after night since The Panda deserted me.
In the spirit of motherhood, I have chopped my hair short and gained a matronly-acceptable amount of weight. (I push it towards my hips and waist in an effort to stay true to my character.) I have taken to wearing my clothes with spit-up and to donning ridiculously large undergarments that look as if they could withstand bullets at close range. William and I are a making a go of this, but Panda, if you’re reading me out there in the wilds of Mongolia…please come home soon. I really need a good night’s rest.