Sometimes I think about how much money I would spend for free time.

When we were in Maui, Laef had Thanksgiving Day completely off. Just knowing that I’d have an extra set of hands to help made me beyond excited. And then Laef agreed to watch Harper for 1 hour so I could go to the pool. ALL BY MYSELF.

Then of course something happened with work, and he got called away seconds before I was to escape. I’m not kidding, I almost went Harper on his ass. I had to fight back a serious meltdown. I could taste that one hour, and it tasted like a Pina Coloda spiked with Banana Boat SPF 4.

In the end, he didn’t have to be gone very long, and when he came back I went to the pool.

And let’s be honest, I totally missed them both after 30 minutes. But since finding an hour seems impossible in real life, I forced myself to order another Corona and tough it out. It was so hard. Times were tough.

So, anyway, we came home from Hawaii on Friday. Laef had to work all day Saturday and Sunday. When he got home Sunday evening I handed Harper to him so that I could do a few things.

Laef: “OK, well, I need to poop first.”

Me: Side eye. “OK. I guess you can poop.”

10 minutes later I realize I am still on Harper duty.

Me: “Um, this is NOT one of those poops. This is not a “read the entire Week cover to cover poops.”

Laef: “What?”

Me” “NOW. If I can’t take a shower longer that 4 minutes, you certainly can NOT poop and enjoy a magazine for 10 minutes areyoufuckingkiddingme? Do you want me to cut you?”

I think it was at that very minute that Laef finally realized how valuable time is.

He was about as excited to sit on the toilet as I was to sit by the pool.

You are going to read some things here that might make you ew. Don’t worry, it’s not about sex. Because, um, well … what is sex?

It’s about Harper’s wandering mouth.

You are not allowed to type comments about how disgusting she is, or how I am subjecting her to diseases and filth. I can only control so many things in any given day. So far she has not died, gotten sick or swallowed her hand.

So, she’s a baby. Which means she drools bucket loads. And, to be honest, I hate baby drool. Except for Harper’s. Kind of the same way I don’t love having other people’s cats crawl on me. Sanch is the only one who can put is litter-box paws and stank ass anywhere near me.

Harper has been drooling for a long time. I mean, we’ve been using the term, “Maybe she’s teething” for like 3 months.

The bitch is not teething. She drools just because. I guess that’s what babies do.

However, over the last month she has gotten ambidextrous. She can use every finger and every toe to figure out a way to put EVERY F’N thing in her mouth. Sometimes she will put her foot so far down her throat she gags. Or she will gag on her fingers. At first I was worried, like, is she going to vom all over me from putting her fingers down her throat? Is she going to become the next great supermodel?

But, days go by and she doesn’t choke herself, and she doesn’t barf so I just laugh at her. “Hey dummy, chill on the fingers.”

Every time I put her anywhere, her first thought is “Where can I put my mouth?” When we did sleep training, I checked on her because she got quiet pretty easily. Well, she had her face smashed up against her crib sucking on the wood. When we do bath time, I can not get her to focus because she insists on leaning over and sucking on the tub. Or her bath book. Or the wash cloth. Reading books is a whole other issue. Apparently books taste better than rice cereal (which is about the only thing she doesn’t like putting her mouth on). I have seen my shoe in her mouth, Sanch’s tail, the Bjorn, the remote, my cell phone, her towel, my hair, my cheek, the baby monitor … basically whatever she sees.

I have given up freaking out.

Except for when we boarded a Southwest flight the other day. I put her on the seat so that I could put my bag away. I looked down and she had her mouth on the arm rest. I promised myself I wouldn’t be that spazz traveling mommy, but EWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW.

I’m sure it’s all totally normal, but it cracks me up every time. Especially when I come into the living and see her licking the floor.

Licking floor > Fun toys.

To be fair, she is also starting to put some real food in her mouth.

So, right after Harper was born, I started noticing that I couldn’t hear very well out of my left ear. The problem proceeded to get worse, and after asking Laef to repeat himself 400 times over the course of the last month, he insisted I go to the doctor.

I don’t know exactly what I thought the problem was, but I certainly was not prepared for them to tell me that I have otosclerosis and will have to have surgery to replace a bone in my ear. This condition is apparently common in women late in pregnancy or during menopause.

So, yes, this is yet another thing that I will be blaming on Harper. I mean, it’s not enough that I pee while jogging, average 4 hours of sleep per night, have a beer gut (without the enjoyment of beer), and brush out giant amounts of hair each morning.

No, I also have to be practically deaf in one ear.

Now I am wondering what could be next.

All joking aside,  it doesn’t matter all that much.

We just experienced our first holiday with Harper, and I have to say that it brought out the kid in both of us. We took her trick or treating (yes, she is only 4 months old and did not know what the hell was going on) Monday night, and our excitement level was quite high. We both realized that this might be the last year we can eat all of her candy without her throwing a giant fit.

When we started walking down the street and approached the first house, we stopped and looked at each other.

“What do we do? We just knock on the door, right?”

Yeah. OK.

I mean, it has been like 25 years since I have been trick or treating (I just barfed typing that) and like 6 years since Laef has gone. We were rusty.

Most of the houses in our neighborhood had bowls with candy on the porch. I don’t know if it’s because people were out with their own kids, or if that’s how it’s done these days. That’s not how it was done back when I was a kid, which is a good thing because I didn’t exactly follow instructions, and a note that says, “TAKE ONE ONLY” wouldn’t have meant shit to me. Actually, yes, it would have meant, “TAKE AS MUCH AS YOU WANT AND RUN AWAY FAST!”

I tried really hard to only take once piece to put in Harper’s trick or treat bag, but it was not easy.

Laef: “Remember, you are trying to set an example for her.”

Me: “Bah. Fine. But we can take three pieces. One for me, one for you and one for her. That is totally legit.”

Laef: “Oooh. Get that flavored tootsie roll.”

I mean, no matter how old you are, a bowl full of candy is a hard thing to resist.

And no matter how deaf, tired or decrepit you feel, spending the holidays with your kids will make you feel like a child all over again.

While Harper passed out from her first Halloween experience, Laef and I dumped all her candy on the table and took turns picking what we wanted. It was like the fantasy draft of candy picking, and of course the last thing left was some janky candy corn.

Candy Corn > Tebow.