5:00am: Location—crib. Awake. To call for mama or enjoy my pacifier for a few extra minutes?


5:05am: Ahh…that’s the stuff. “Mama!”

5:10am: Mama has gone back to bed in hopes of Sunday snuggling. Note to self: Squirm around enough and she will let you run around the house while she sleeps. Win. Setting a 5:00am wake-up call from now on.

5:15am: “Mama. Maaama. Mama. Mamamamamama. Wake up.”Seriously, wake up, lady. Sheesh, you would think after 11 hours of sleep, she wouldn’t be so tired. I mean, I feel great.

5:17am: New plan. Make ominous noise to wake up mama. Hmm…Spill water? Jump on couch? Knock over lamp? Rustle around in important paperwork?No, I know. “Uh-oh, mama!”

7:00am: Ah, breakfast. The most important meal of the day. It sets the tone for the rest of the day, after all. Refuse anything green and maybe mama will give up on serving healthy food for the rest of the day. I’m sure she will make me a pre-nap snack if I get hungry later, anyway.

9:00am: Playtime. Only the best part of every day. Let’s see if I can break my record for number of toys strewn on the floor in 5 minutes.

9:05am: Victory is mine! Note to self: Ask for more toys on next trip to Target.

10:30am: I can feel naptime looming. Whatever happens, don’t yawn. If necessary, sneak in a quick eye rub by pretending to wipe nose. Smoooooth.

12:00pm: Not sure what I want for lunch, but I’m sure if I cry enough, someone will offer me something that looks good. Egg, orange slices, almonds, cheese, bread, and hummus? Nah, guess I’m not hungry after all.

12:10pm: Ooh, blue Play-Doh! Now that’s what I call a gourmet snack.

3:00pm: Ahh, a Sunday stroll through the park. “Mama, walk! Walk!” Score. Out of the stroller to stretch my legs.

3:02pm: Okay, that’s enough exercise for one afternoon. “Mama, up!” Yes, from mama’s shoulders, I do believe I officially have the highest (and most comfortable) vantage point in the park.

5:30pm: Mama wants to play. She is trying way too hard toget my attention. Sooo not interested.

5:35pm: Mama is answering an e-mail. On Sunday. Quick! Jump on the couch to get her attention. Nothing! Hmm… “Mama, read book!” Success. That one never fails.

5:36pm: This book is boring. Whose idea was it to read, anyway?

6:00pm: No one ever listens to me at the dinner table. Ihave been perfectly clear with my demands for more bread. “Mo braa.” Seriously,guys. Why do you keep offering me broccoli? When have I ever asked for more broccoli?How many different ways do I have to say it? “Mo braaaa!”

7:00pm: And the nightly ritual begins. By far the mostconflicted I feel each day. I love bath time, nighttime books, and my evening babymassage, but it all means one thing—bedtime. New plan. If they can’t brush myteeth or put my pajamas on, they can’t put me to bed. Time to wiggle my way to freedom.

8:01pm: Mama is picking me up to put me in my crib. Wait forit…wait for it… “Mama, potty!” Yesssss. A trip to the potty to ‘go pee-pee.’ Man,she falls for that one every time.

8:10pm: Ok, false alarm everyone. One more bedtime book,anybody?