I try to keep this blog safe for work, Baby Rangirl. Chances are I’ll probably wait until you’re out of the house before I release this blog to you. By then we’ll have fought and made amends twenty times before you finally realize you’ll never live a life of your own under this roof. And you won’t be angered by all the parental flaws you’ve encountered to date with this little diary of mine…you’ll be old enough and way past your female hormonal stuff to understand that this blog was written for your records. Not to damn myself for becoming a parent. Not at all. No. Love it.

But $&@?! We had an “ah crap” moment, for lack of a better phrase which will allow you and your buddies to continue reading this blog from your job in outer space. Because I assume 20-something years down the road cubicles will be built in outer space since the Earth’s atmosphere no longer can tolerate the ego of all these douchebag-for-bosses in corporate America and their sense of accomplishment from a meaningless Master’s Degree. I blame the Greenhouse Effect on the execs of today, Baby Rangirl. Al Gore didn’t realize in time to save your generation that global warming is a result of the hot air in their heads. Hopefully by the time you read this I’m one of these douchebags.

Um, what was this blog posting about? Manscaping? Oh no! The “ah crap” moment! It was 6/7/2012 at 1:49AM when Mommy Ranman bolted for your bedroom. The baby monitor (#1 of 3) picked up on your fussing. But not just any fussing. You had rolled over in your crib for the first time from your back.

Now this a happy milestone. It means you’re developing. Unfortunately for us, you’re #%^^**ing developing at 2AM in the morning and chances are this will continue to happen until you embrace tummy time and learn to keep calm when you’re on your tummy. You have yet to last 5 straight minutes without getting frustrated when we put you on your tummy to strengthen those arms and neck. This means you’ll be up a lot for the next couple weeks until you learn to stay calm on your stomach and find a way to not suffocate yourself.

Which means constant monitoring. Which mean “ah crap”. I don’t know how she went from being barely able to move her legs around while in the crib to all of a sudden this:

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She started off at the upper left somehow.

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