zoomaru

Don't you just love when someone asks for your opinion and when they don't like what they hear, they ask you again, as though this will change your opinion? They disagree with this second statement of your opinion, and when you don't change it, they argue their stance and say that they DO want to get your opinion. At this point I had to say, "I AM giving you my opinion" "But don't you think that X and Y should be Z" "No, I told you what I thought." "But i'm trying to get your opinion."

That doesn't make me difficult does it? sheesh. 

This weekend we took ruby all sorts of places. Mostly successfully too! The Irish Festival yesterday was a lot of fun. The grownups had beer, the little one got to try a moon bounce for the first time. she's no shrinking violet, she jumped right in and bounced her little heart out.

And if you look closely, you'll notice baby butt-crack, nothing funnier that that, really. Ruby also really dug the big giant inflatable slide. She was totally fearless about it. She also got a lollipop and a balloon, which seemed to really cap off a good day for her. The new word of the week is "awesome" she says it at the right time with just the right dude inflection. amuses the hell out of me.

Our other adventure was an hour and a half car ride up to Ikea. We just invested in a portable DVD player and for the most part it helped a lot, except when it was nap time on the way back. why won't she just fall a sleep? Yelling appears to be the appropriate response. But she had a good time at the furniture store and behaved wonderfully through a sit-down lunch. I feel like we're turning a corner. I think both Richard and I have felt a little housebound with having a child, especially with the winter. So we're hoping this DVD player will be our gateway drug to freedom! first we have to invest in dora the explorer.

Another tidbit. I'm a dumbass. really. Finally bought some "room-darkening shades" to try to get ruby to sleep later in the morning. marginal success until richard mentioned the light up moon that ruby uses as a nightlight. It's a litle bright. I turned it off when i went to bed last night and Ruby slept  an hour longer! Glory Halleluljah! i was in bed til 7am!! i can't tell you the last time THAT happened. thank you sweet baby jesus! But why didn't i figure this out sooner?

I have the strange habit of skimming the obituaries. Most days, I'm happy to say, are filled with really, really old people. But sometimes there are a lot of people that I used to consider old, but now that I'm 40, don't seem all that old. 44? not old. 57? no. not that old either! I've become a little preoccupied with my mortality. Perhaps it's the fact that my mom died at 54. All my grandparents lived to be in their 80s but this is family history that's up close and personal. I also was a late bloomer in the breeding game and have a 2 year old and it makes me immensely sad to think I could leave her motherless someday. I was 34 when my mom passed away and it obliterated me for months and months. I can't imagine what it would have been like to have only been in high school or college.

My mother was the one person I knew who was always ALWAYS on my side. This was particularly comforting during my younger years when I didn't have a very strong sense of myself. I hope to provide that comfort to my girl. But I also don't want to pull the rug out from under her or her daddy.

If you didn't know me, the following thoughts might lead you to think that I'm an unhappy or morose person, and I have to say "nope". I'm actually a pretty positve, optimistic person. Really, my glass-half-full attitude drives people crazy sometimes. I'm just not sure how to reassure myself that I'm gonna be kicking for as long as possible. I'll go do the doctors' and the mammograms but in the end, i know there's no guarantee, and it just didn't matter quite so much when it was just me.

• Being the mother of a 2 year old is not unlike being a hostage negotiator. The irrational demands, the threats of distruction, the calm, calm voice you use to say "put your weapons down, please."
  
• As you learn to raise your tolerance to dirt and chaos, your tolerance for alcohol decreases. This is the oppposite of what I would have expected.
  
• Frog boots go with any ensemble.
  
• Target, while not inherently evil, IS EVIL. It's like the MOB, you try to leave and it. sucks. you. back. in. I love Target, I do, but I think i love it too much.
  
• A band-aid on the foot of a 2 yr old renders them immobile. It apparently throws off their equilibrium. I wonder if she can say equilibrium? i think I'll try that word on her tonight. These days she will try to say most any word. oh which reminds me...
• Don't let your husband teach your child to say "PONY" it was bad enough when HE would ask for a pony. but not as bad as when he would ask for monkeys or miniature kangaroos. Admittedly, this is rather subjective on my part, whether pretending to want one animal is worse than pretending to want another.
• Apparently, tearing a piece of bread in half is THE very worst thing you can do. It MUST go in the trash and a new, untorn piece be extracted from bag.
  
• I love my family more than anything in the world. There is no surer way to make me smile than watcing my daughter give her dad a big hug.
  

This morning, Ruby stood on a kitchen chair looking out the back window at a surprise bit of snow and sang her version of the alphabet song. Apparently this was NOT the morning for mama to clap along, I was the designated audience and appreciatorl, i could sing quietly along, but only SHE may clap.

it goes "abcbdbgb" and there is a bit of mumble mumble mumble between the K and the P but she hits the highlights QUUUuuuuuuu. Esssssssss.... at the end after I applaud, she gives a little flourish of her hand and a bit of a bow and says "TANk you! tank you!"

Next on the playlist was a few rounds of twinka twinka and happy birday. She may have even been wearing her froggie boots at this point.

What a swell way to start the day!

I had written a rather self-indulgent-woe-is-me piece here, but the miracles of technology have wiped this slate clean! I'm glad the text disappeared. Imagine a very nasally whiny voice saying "my job is HAARD. I'm getting OLD. My child yells A LOT. My husband leaves his dirty socks around." wha wha freaking wah.

I'd been feeling a little anxious all weekend, a little existential, a little mid-lifey and then I saw a piece on the refugees in Darfur in Africa. What right do I have to complain? There are women and children without homes or food or future. How does one face the day there? Wheee! we get to walk hundreds of miles to the next camp! Wheeee! i have 4 children to feed. No wonder they don't really notice the flies that land on their faces. Much bigger fish to fry than that.

My set back today? I was out of sugar-free vanilla syrup for my latte. I'm pathetic!  

Someone asked me what sort of personality our two year old has. I was totally stumped. I mean I KNOW Ruby, but I don't know any other toddler as well as I know her so it's hard to tell, sometimes, what is her personality and what is her developmental stage.

Right now? Stubborn, oh my lord, stubborn with a capital S. Inflexible at times? oh yes. "FROG BOWL... NOooooooOOOW"... said as though she is Veruca Salt demanding that diddy buy the gold swan. But infinitely silly too, like singing the alphabet song in different funny voices. Or the sly look she gets in her eye when she's doing something she knows i've asked her not to do. Lately she's been clingy and crabby and this may be due to a waning stomach bug. Or part of a growth spurt, because when she wasn't barfing she was eating like a little tyrannical horse!

But she is a sweetie too, she'll announce "BIG HUG" and open her arms wide to you. When I'm dropping her off at the babysitters, it's often accompanied with a little poutie lip and a tremble in her voice, but she's trying to be a big girl.

We are the not-so-proud owners of a family wagon. I never really thought I'd see the day that I was driving what amounts to a station wagon. Subaru can call it's Forester a "small SUV" but that's just a fancy word for denial. I had still been driving the Miata convertible up to my 8th month of pregnancy which was not unlike an elephant riding a bicycle. Not comfortable for anyone, and damn hard to remove oneself.

We have vowed never, ever, ever, never to buy a minivan. I think that's one of the main reasons we don't want a second child. Those bloated bins of unsavoriness careening down the road spewing cheerios and drink boxes as they go scare the crap out of me. I know you can carry an entire football team and they're luggage in one, but I don't care. They are oogy.

I broke down and took our beast to the car wash. And as I rode through the tunnel of swishing and flapping soapy bits, I attacked the dash board and console with baby wipes. holy crap! I had to cut through three layers of goldfish-latte-raisin smudge before I could make out the faux leather pattern of the dash! Here's a helpful Heloise hint, baby wipes really make the plastic gleam!

Not only do i have less time to clean my vehicle, there is an active participant in fugging it up strapped into the back seat. She likes to chuck anything that is no longer amusing her to the floor and I'm invariably carting around crumpled baggies full of corn chex or sticky raisins for her royalness' snacking needs.

ah well, maybe my next car will be fun...