1. The big girl bed has landed. Since its arrival a mere week ago, we have more than once resorted to putting Viva in the car in her jammies and driving around for a half an hour playing sleepytime music to get her to go to sleep. It is less taxing than dealing with her getting up endlessly over a period of two hours after she goes to bed because she has to pee, poop, or tell us something crucial about her sippy cup, her CD player ("It's stopped! No music!"), or one of the many stuffed critters she insists on sharing her bed with, but whom she is constantly berating for taking her spot. Hence, it is just past 10 pm and she is still not asleep. [Sweet William is dealing with her right now.] We have agreed not to resort to the car, but I confess it's really just the price of gas that is stopping us. Anyone who wants to criticize our parenting skills right now can either pucker up and plant a big wet one on my ass, or come on over here and try to put her to bed themselves. There is no joy in Blahville.
2. I am working on a second writing assignment for a job that I really, really, really want. Deadline Friday. Send good vibes. Or money. Or microwave popcorn.
3. My latest obsession: Madeleines. How did I go through thirty-some-odd years before learning of their simple buttery cookie charm? Slightly sweet, definitely a cookie, and yet not so full of crap like chocolate chunks and macadamia nuts that one feels guilty for consuming them. What the hell, why not eat five?
4. New shoes! Just discovered that I might as well have gone in for Chinese foot binding. Last week, Viva was complaining that her toe hurt, and I took off her cute little navy T-strap to discover that her foot had red marks on either side of it. The last time I had her feet measured was - oh, easily 6 months ago. Kids do grow awfully fast, don't they? Okay, for those of you who questioned our parenting prowess before, I'll grant you this one. I am an ass.
So: Viva now owns one pair of tiny navy and hot pink New Balance sneakers...
and one pair of plum-colored Primigi Mary Janes.
I am still wearing Old Navy flip flops. Shoe score: Viva 2, Mama Blah 0.
5. Measure of how insane I am about my child: I spent an absurd amount of time Saturday constructing a parrot out of the box her Primigi shoes came in. I think this was envisioned to be a fun activity and a cool way to recycle the box. Primigi provides an envelope in the bottom of the box with brightly colored pieces for the head, wings, feet, and tail, which you then affix to the brightly colored box using unspeakable scads of sticky tape (also provided). The result is predictably flimsy and not designed for use by any child ever known to man. The parrot did not last a full 24 hours before I pitched it into the trash. Damn Italian shoe manufacturers. Sick, sick bastards.
6. Although they constitute the largest number of items on my "to do" list, the amount of time I have spent on pro bono stuff today: 15 minutes. Seriously.
7. Number of loads of laundry I have laundered, folded and put away in the last 24 hours: five.
8. Number of additional loads I could conceivably do if I were so inclined: two.
9. Odds that that will happen: 1 in 1,760,259,302.
10. Nothing. I just wanted an even-numbered list.