Since Dec. 21, there hasn’t been a day when everyone in this house was healthy. Today I am down for the count with something flu-y that Lucy gave me.
My mom expressed surprise that I got it and not Jim, who usually gets felled by everything, but I told her, “Well, she lies next to me and breathes on me all night, so..”
(Digression: This is to say that I have completely given up on this whole “Teach the baby to sleep in her crib” thing. There is so much yelling in my life already, I don’t feel like there needs to be more. Hey, I was a terrible parent with the last one because she had a binkie until she was nearly three. This one never used one, so I had to figure out some other way to screw her up. /sarcasm)
I did some work from home but frankly my brain is not operating at 100 percent capacity, if the length of time it took me to drop some text into a pre-formatted document earlier is any indication. This is really not an all-morning sort of task for me usually, and yet I spent 2 hours laboriously adding italics in html coding.
To rest, I watched a movie, Charlie Bartlett, for the sole reason that it had Robert Downey Jr. in it. It was one of those coming-of-age stories, sort of a Pump Up The Volume without radios, and I realized again that I am an middle-aged-yoga-pantsed-lady because I totally sympathized with the parents. It’s possible that was the screenwriters’ intent, or it’s possible that RDJ is just that good. I’d put my money on the latter. It was jarring to see Tony Stark in a Sipowicz, though, which made me appreciate the costume designer. Apparently, I’ve become the person who enjoys thinking about the ropes and pulleys behind the scenes. Find me the Wizard of Oz!
At the recommendation of a co-worker I watched North and South on Netflix. Not the one about the Civil War, the other one, with the bossypants awkward hot British upperclass dude inadvertently insulting the meddling smartmouth somewhat lower-than-his-class cute semi-impoverished girl before realizing that she is one true love and so much awkward and angst ensues. If you like Pride and Prejudice and/or Jane Eyre (the Fassbender version) this should be firmly in your wheelhouse.
I have conflict with Eliza lately. I struggle with the balance of what to share here — on the one hand, happy-clappy-everything’s-perfect is obnoxious, but it’s not really fair to share what I see as her shortcomings without giving her equal time. Let’s leave it at recognizing in her some traits I don’t like in myself — and fretting over what I can do to modulate or neutralize these aspects of her character without quashing other, complementary traits.
The point is, it feels like a whole different kind of parenting. When they’re little but sentient, you just sort of have to keep the feral monkey-ness under control, but suddenly you have to impart morals, and ethics, and all that stuff, and get them to do it because it’s RIGHT, no candy bribes allowed? Gaaaaah.
Don’t misunderstand, I don’t think she’s on some sort of path of hell — she’s having totally normal growing pains as far as I can tell. I’m just not used to dealing with them from this side.
The little one, on the other hand, is very much in semi-sentient-monkey stage. This morning we had a loud argument because she did not buy my assertions that you can only wear one pair of pants at a time. She was bound and determined to wear her polka-dot pajama pants AND her cupcake leggings. At the same time. Also, she looks like she was gravely wounded. She has bandaids everywhere, but that is because I bought the Spongebob kind and she loves BOBOB! as she calls him.
Also, she drinks from ACUP! wherein ACUP! can mean a drinking glass, water bottle, sippy cup or pretty much any other water-drinking conveyance. What I do not have and she is very disappointed with me about, is the ability to tell, when she demands ACUP!, which of these options she means.
I’m sure you can understand that I was happy to deliver her to daycare this morning while I stayed home, because if formatting a press release took me two hours, I’m pretty sure that getting my kid a drink this morning would’ve straight-up overloaded my system.