Monday, December 3, 2012
Today J and I had a completely ridiculous fight over kefir. It was one of those rushing to get out of the house fights we seem to have pretty much every day. I could have easily poured him the kefir in less time than the struggle took, but as so often happens in these situations I suddenly became an asshole 4 year old myself, and dug my heels in. I had already made him a sandwhich, and we were in a hurry to get to a freaking birthday party so its not like I was taking him to the DMV or something equally boring...so we both dug in our heels and we both cried and yelled and it was a messy shitty clumsy exit from the house, which I of course instantly felt guilty about once the car was driving and we were on the way. Words uttered that I regret: Oh God! Just shut up about the kefir! (First time saying shut up - out loud at least - to my child. Another thing I swore I'd never do, crossed off the list.) Also regrettable (albeit not a first): Please. just. get. in. the god damn . car. Parent of the year I am not. At least I say please while being a complete asshole.
I somehow cobbled together a Luke Skywalker costume for he-who-dislikes-star-wars-but-desperately-wants-to-fit-in, figuring I'd rather he show up in costume and remove it later than not show up in costume and wish he had. I choose wisely, as other kids were envious of his button down belted shirt jedi whatever the fuck look. See, I'm not all shitty impatience. Just mostly. Watching him at the party, I was both worried by and proud of his hesitancy to rush in to collect the pinata candy. His holding back, his waiting to dive into things isn't bad, its just who he is. I love it about him and yet it also makes me worry is he happy? Is he having fun? Its candy, for fuck's sake - the holy grail of his mini existance! Why hold back?
My moon baby always looks like she's smarter than everyone else in the room and maybe just barely tolerating us all. I'm pretty sure she was a cat in a former life. I fucking melt when she rocks her head coyishly (is that even a word? Its 2am, I've been with 2 kids all day through a fucking birthday party, visit with an out of town friend, and babysitting my schmister's son until 11pm while simultaneously trying to work and entertain my baby- I don't even know if I"m writing in English, Spanish or French at this point. I'm pretty sure its not a word, but now if I change it I will have to delete this explanation for nothing) from side to side in a combination of dancing and flirtation. I love that she knows I fucking melt and does it to get precisely that reaction. She's also been doing this ballet leg stance where she holds herself upright on whatever is enabling her to be on two legs at the moment, and extends her leg outward while then giving her captive audience the coyish head tilt (shut up, I had to use the word again to justify the long rant above). She's definitely got some of the performing genes somewhere in that DNA code.
I don't have the energy to write an ending to this post. I'm suddenly feeling all the weight of this long day, and the weight of the immense to-do list facing me this week and all the relief that has come with finally writing a bit again has turned into regret over staying up so late writing when I still have work to finish for the job job. Expert juggler I am not. Frantic ball chaser? Why yes. Yes I am. Even if that sounds way saucier than it is.
And with that weird non ending I leave you to ponder frantic ball chasing in all its non-glory.
Thursday, January 21, 2010
Boy, this parenting stuff ain't easy...and this is just the wee tiny head of a pin sized tip of the very large iceberg, I know.
There were some really cute moments to the visit as well. Lest you think the LFM is all boundary testing and no joy, I'm including some really cute videos I took on this trip.
This is the LFM singing and being adorable to avoid sleeping. It worked. he's charming, that one. There's no visual, because we were ostensibly going to sleep, hence the darkness. Just enjoy the music.
This is the LFM playing the drums with his Grandfather and Great Uncle in an impromptu party.
This is the LFM searching for lizzards (legartijo) in the back garden at his grandparents' house. It rained half the time we were there, but at least the puddles were fun for one little monkey to play in.
And lastly, this is the LFM rocking out at his grandparents' house. This kid LOVES to dance. And I personally love to watch him dance. He often shouts "Bailando, bailando!" (Spanish for I'm dancing, I'm dancing!) or "Shake your booty!" while he dances. The move about 3/4 of the way into it is awesome and I'm totally stealing it the next time that we (never) go dancing.
Saturday, January 2, 2010
The champagne has been drunk, the collard greens (in a white wine sauce with challots and garlic, mmmm) and black eyed peas (with creole seasoning) have been eaten to ensure good luck in the new year, and suddenly, in a very quiet and simple way the future is here. In more ways than one.
When I was little, the year 2000 seemed so unfothomable, and we were all sure we'd have individual rocket packs by 2010, at the very least. Well here we are, in the veritable future (as I post this on the INTERNET from my CELLULAR PHONE via a SATELLITE CONNECTION) and what wows me the most are the minute details of my own personal realized future. The one that looks nothing like what I'd imagined or planned, but fills me to overflowing with a sense of belonging and completion such as I'd never dared dream existed. The one where an ideal New Year's Eve is one where WB and I get a few precious hours of date time to ourselves and then are content to be in our cozy home, possibly dozing off while putting the LFM to bed (me- guilty as charged!), and then quietly ringing in the new year in our own beautiful way, leaving the champagne for new year's day and the firecrackers for, well, see above ringing in of new year.
If the way you usher in the new year sets the tone for the entire year (and I am indeed superstitious enough to believe so), then 2010 will be a sweet little year full of quiet surprise and blessing and oh so much love.
And the LFM will be very whiny.
Let's hope superstition only goes so far....