Well, the Holiday Crazies have worn me out, to the extent that climbing the stairs to go to bed each night would be out of reach for me if I didn’t know there was a warm bed and an Mp3 player waiting for me up there.
We’re in the Necessary Activities stage, in which the only household chores that get done relate to bathing and food, while laundry and dust pile up and wait. They’re very patient, as is Life in general. I had a friend who would quip “no matter where you go, there you are!” whenever I talked about moving away from the East Carolina town where I spent my belated adolescence. The same holds true for staying here and checking out. No matter for how long or how deep, Life just sits and waits, and grows while I’m out.
ToddlerA would be in baby prison right now were she not such a cute-fest of joy most of the time. The REST of the time, however, there is the ear-splitting screech of dissatisfaction, which she rolls out for any kind of offense, large or small. Whether she just doesn’t like the juice in her cup and would rather drink coffee from MY cup, or drops a 5 pound can of tomatoes on her foot, or thinks the cat should stay near her for the petting, the house (or 400 yard radius outside) is filled with the worst kind of fingernails-on-a-chalkboard kind of crystal-shattering wail. Like I said, if she hadn’t just learned the very cutest little “noooo” and if last night when we asked her if she was ready for bed she hadn’t nodded yes and tried to climb the gate to upstairs, I might be ready to get rid of her. As it stands, she seems to keep just enough credit in the Sanity Bank to keep just this side of the Orphanage.
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