Saturday, March 4

Cleanliness is next to...

I think the whole notion of "cleaning up when we are finished" might perhaps be sinking in, maybe, just a smidge. Twice in the last couple of weeks while putting dishes in the dishwasher Jude has come up behind me and smushed his banana into the silverware basket then turned and strolled away, as if to say, "Right, done with that...now...onto the next item on my busy agenda."

He's in the right vicinity, I suppose.


Addendum later that afternoon: Girlfriends told me that having a baby causes brain cell loss of ginormous proportions. Do you think I belived them? Of course not, because I would happen to be exempt from any such normal side-effects commonly described by women all over the world, having been struck with a narcissistic case of the "it will never happen to me" syndrome. OK, so, I've been sitting here for the last 5 hours diligently engaged in laboring for my employer, while in the back of my mind something seems strangely amiss. Something naggingly not quite right...can't put my finger on it...ummmm.........I'm sitting here with conditioner still in my hair (and we're not talking the leave-in variety). Ironic, that.

Now, I'm not exactly sure if this particular incident can be attributed to this loss of brain cells factor women speak of, or if maybe it has more to do with the fact that for the last few weeks I've not been able to take a single shower without a tiny hand flinging the shower door open WIDE a minimum of four or five times to subject me repeatedly to a blast of cold air and a two and half foot tall human boy's face sporting a mischievous grin staring up at me. Hence, making shower taking a rushed affair these days.

So, I'm not certain...you decide. We won't go into the whole similar situation of going to nursery school with a backwards diaper on incident that occurred earlier this week. That we can chalk up to sleep deprivation, I'm sure, since between being preganant and the first year of babyhood my sleep debt must be up to, oh I dunno, twelve years by now. But who's counting?
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