The
door to our bathroom has a full-length mirror on it, which is great
in theory because there's your full body mirror when you need one,
but also, ugh, there's your full body mirror when you'd just rather
not deal with it. So I'm sitting there on the toilet this morning
staring at myself (this falls into the rather not deal with it category)
and notice that I've got a big chunk out of my left eyebrow, right
at the start of it where it should be the thickest. Did I do this
while tweezing? No, I rarely venture into that forrested eyebrow
area. Did Gray play a practical joke on me while I was passed out?
Probably not, nobody likes a patchy-eyebrowed wife. Is there a disease
that makes eyebrow hair fall out? That's got to be it. It's like
I've gone bald in this vulnerable, first-thing-you-see-when-you-meet-me
spot. It's like having a big zit on the tip of my nose, or a giant
chin hair, or Keri Russell's wandering eye.
===
Things
on mind:
1.
At exactly eighteen months, the baby's sleep pattern changed. He
went from two one-hour naps a day to one half hour nap in the morning,
which was disaster in the time needed for afternoon Facebooking
department. Yet yesterday and today he's back to normal, which means
the crazy schedule upheaval thing everybody said would happen is
happening. It's like baby menopause: change is afoot.
2.
The US economy is kind of tanky right now, right, which has made
the stockmarket and everything financial a total shit slip and slide.
We are currently buying a house, and the mortgage rate has gone
down almost an entire percentage point in a month, which amounts
to hundreds of dollars in savings per monthly bill. Needless to
say we got a loan at the height of the curve. This kind of thing
(ie. not getting a bargain) makes me want to hold up a pharmacy
and devour all of their quaaludes. Also I think we overpaid for
the house, so add whatever kind of drug will take that pain away
to the quaalude pile and then find me in the middle of it all, sleeping.
3.
I have 2 gigs left on my 300 gig main hard drive, which means my
computer might explode tomorrow. The thought of installing a new
main hard drive and everything it entails right before moving makes
me want to die, so I'm putting it off.
4.
At playgroups recently I've noticed that the baby is leaps and bounds
more advanced than the 16 month olds. When he was 16 months old
two months ago I was comparing him to 18 month olds and thinking
about how behind he was. But now that we're on the other side of
that mountain, I see that the giant leap taken between 16 and 18
months is really kind of huge. Also on this side of the hill are
temper tantrums in public (the best incident was at Amoeba Records
in SF where every time I tried to pick him up he'd fall down on
the ground limply and start screaming), yelling "No no no!"
a hundred times a day, throwing his food at me, and also snuggling
and wanting to be held after his nap when I take him out of his
crib.
5.
The snuggling is the best.
===
I have book advice. Don't read Cormac McCarthy's The Road unless
you want to be destroyed. I guess it's a sign of the times that
there are SO many apocalpytic stories coming out now, from I Am
Legend to City of Ember to The Road, but good lord I sat in my chair
sobbing for ten minutes after I put it down. And then yesterday
the baby brought me Shel Silverstein's The Giving Tree to read to
him and I said to myself, "Self, don't read this. You haven't
read it for ten years but you remember that it made you cry."
So I sat down and read it and again, sobbed for ten minutes at the
end. Where's David Sedaris when you need him?
