Don't ever tell people you have a good baby. As soon as the words leave your mouth, you will most definitely be proven wrong. I went out to Nature's Pharm to meet my aunt and we had a good time sniffing the lotions and comparing hand creams and stuff for about five seconds. She asked me, as she looked adoringly down at my baby-sized slice of angelicness, if Anja was always such a good baby. I should have told the truth: that she only likes me, and her general motto is "my way or the highway." However, instead of being honest I said, "Oh, yes! She's such good girl! Blah blah blah! With every good thing I say about her, her waking volume will increase by five decibels!" And sure enough, a minute later she woke up. HATING THE WORLD. There was no consoling her. And this was not your every day waking-up-on-the-wrong-side-of-the-bed fussiness. This was an all-out fit. The kind where there are long periods of silence, which is never a good thing. You know the kind I mean, when they cry until they don't have anymore air so they go silent while their face turns slightly purple and then--GASP--they come back stronger than before (just when you thought it wasn't possible)!! That was the kind of fit Little Miss Anja Pie was having today at Nature's Pharm. So we left. She fell back asleep as soon as we got outside and now she's in her crib and she's still asleep.
I know I haven't learned my lesson. I do this all the time. She IS a good baby, she's smiley and cheerful and nice to be around most of the time. It's just whenever I tell that to anyone that the winds change and her demonic side shows through. With gusto!