But, well, I'm motorin'.
This week has been going in fast-frickin-forward. Sometimes I notice the universe sending me subtle signs that I'm pushing myself too hard or that I'm too distracted, overscheduled, sleep-deprived. That I'm not spending enough time paying attention to Lily's needs and spending too much time doing stooopid selfish stuff like going to work and grocery shopping and cleaning and making videos of myself to post on my blog.
Sometimes these hints are barely noticeable... the scent of spring flowers in the air as I dash through Madison Square Park on my way to work, or the sight of a beautiful baby on the subway, cuddled in a pouch against her mom's chest and chewing on a finger while smiling at me. These little things remind me to slow it down and calm myself and try to enjoy what's around me, goddamn it.
Then there are these other times. I'll get a sign that's a little more obvious. More sledgehammer-to-the-skull kind of obvious. Like yesterday? I was watching Rachel Ray with Lily before her bedtime (a special Mom-Lil treat), and I was feeling really itchy and distracted. I got up and went to the kitchen to do some dishes and Lily obviously resented it. So she said,
"I'm gonna go to the bathroom, Mom."
And I felt proud and relieved; I was arm-deep in soap suds and dirty pots and pans. I thought: such a big girl. Going to the bathroom all by her ownself. Letting me get the goddamned dishes done.
She spent a long time in there though. So after I finished my task, I knocked on the door (she never closes it).
"Don't come in! I'm pooping!"
Now, this is so not Lil. She loves an audience when she's going to the bathroom.
So I gently pushed my way in. There was my naked daughter, wiping her butt, trying to block the toilet from my view. When I lifted the lid, I saw that in addition to a fuckton of fecal matter, there was also:
Two dominoes, a barbie boot, and a red crayon.
I looked at my daughter.
"Why did you do this?" I asked.
She shrugged. "I didn't want them anymore."
Yeah. There's that sledgehammer to the skull. I was suddenly brought back to the time when, at age 7 or so, my best friend and I took my sister's Shaun Cassidy doll and stripped him naked, drew all over him with brown magic marker, and plopped him into the toilet. Then we called her upstairs so that she could experience this "tragedy" first hand. I know I did this because at the time I was feeling really jealous of my sister. She was so cute and bubbly and always got so much attention. It was a dark, hateful thing to do. And I knew I'd get in trouble for it. I didn't care though. I just wanted my mom's attention.
So. I think I need to pay more attention to the signs.
Sigh. Being an adult sometimes really sucks some ass.
The Blizzard of '17
4 days ago