So, a bottle walks into a room...

Hombrelibre is gone on a business trip, which means its just me and the kiddo for the next three days and I'm, frankly, terrified of going batshit crazy. Any time I claim I'm not an extrovert I have something like this to remind me I am. I do Not. Like. Being. Alone. Even if "alone" in this case is actually being with an incredibly vivacious 7-month-old. I don't like being without fully realized grownup English-speakers.

The weird thing is, I haven't rushed to make plans during his absence. Usually, I have plans most days--a walk here, a playdate there. But this week I've been crippled with inertia. I don't know if my subconscious needs some alone time, or my Puritan experimenter wants to see how well I can do without help or interaction. In any case, I'm looking at several days with not a lot of breaks from a baby.

The baby in question is really entertaining and laughs at nearly everything I do, which is not a bad ego boost, but she requires a lot of attention. Not having other children, and having avoided children much of my life, I don't really have a barometer for normalcy on this. Is my kid an attention whore? Or are all kids attention whores? If I remember my own childhood correctly, with my near hysterical need to be as close as humanly possible to my mom and sister at all times, its all kids.

But now that its me doing the entertaining, I have to admit it can be a wee bit exhausting. I'm fairly creative, but after my fourteenth round of Things I Know Amuse My Baby (trademark) I'm looking around for an invisible person to step in and continue the sketch comedy while I take a nap.

Maybe I just need more material.