…when did chasing me around the house to squeeze my boob become the best game ever? To a toddler? Seriously. And when is it going to stop? Just wondering, ’cause you know, I’m lodging a complaint with human resources otherwise.
. Never mind that I step on them several times a day and either hurt my foot, or trip and hit some other part of my body. Never mind that they get everywhere and are impossible to all corral into the same box. No, that’s not why I hate them.
I hate them because Baby Girl loves them. She loves them so much that she wants, “Mommy, you come build with me?” all day and every day. I have built something at least twenty times a day for the last two weeks. And that’s about the limit of my sanity.
I hate building blocks. Hate them!
*pause*
*sigh*
“Yes, I’m coming to build with you honey.”
*linking up with Style Sessions and Trend Spin*
Even a cozy tribal, aztec cardigan *which my daughter likes to cuddle in* wasn’t enough when I came home. She had been having fun all day, and when mommy came home she was having none of it. She came up, and instead of the usual hug, I got a firm shove out the front door.
That did not feel good.
And then the following day she did not want me to leave. Ugh, kid, can you make up your mind? It’s really tough when you play roly poly with my emotions like this.
She’s lucky she’s cute.
And that I have a steady supply of wine and chocolate.
Our city is going crazy. Our current mayor *Rob Ford – google him…no seriously, do it. You’ll see what I mean* is making Toronto a laughing stock. Seriously, I don’t know how he’s still in office.
On these jaded and cynical days, I end up reaching for soft, loose, and chunky things. Perhaps I’m unconsciously trying to create a protective barrier between myself and those things that have me feeling like our world is going down the crapper.
Perhaps, it’s not so unconscious.
This tank from Love Nail Tree also fits. The design is a commentary on the American dream – the perversion and decay of it more accurately. So perhaps, while I reach for a protective barrier, I also can not quiet the instinct in me to not go quietly into that gentle night, if only through the use of a wise graphic tee.
Ever seen that movie Sophie’s Choice with Meryl Streep? So she’s in a concentration camp and a Nazi makes her chose between her two children – which one lives and which one dies. She gets to keep one. The rest of the movie revolves around this choice. It’s heart wrenching…and I’m going to make a joke involving it.
I say, ” We’re going to Gramma and Grandpas.”
Baby Girl says, “I wanna take my babies.”
I reply, “Nope, you can only take one.”
Sophie’s Choice for toddlers.
Just as dramatic… to a three year old.
Want to see how the second week went?
*linking up with WIWW, Passion For Fashion, and Style Sessions*
I’m one of those people who likes to think that everything happens for a reason, but has severe trouble accepting or believing it in the moment of a harsh disappointment. It isn’t until later, with hindsight that I realize the path. I need to get better at really believing it at the time.
*linking up with Fab Favorites, The Foley Fam, and Passion For Fashion*
