Bad Babies

rubensteinIt is possible to have bad babies. Today I have two of them. At least they are not hurting one another, which in my mind is the baddest type of bad baby. They are just being WILD. Refusing to nap. Sure, sure. Both had poopie pants after I put ’em down for their nap, so I went up and changed them. Then I gave them a splash more milk in their bottles as an act of good faith on my part. And still, still I hear them. It could be the incredibly bright sunlight trying to break through the black-out shades in their bedroom. Some of it is inevitably seeping around the edges. Maybe it is so freaking bright it is blowing their minds.

More mind-blowing, though, was this morning’s tolerance of mama’s music. Whew! That sure was a plethora of M’s, eh? I was allowed to listen to one of my fave records/cd’s: Modern Jazz Quartet — “Concorde”. I believe this was Okayed on the sole basis of the purple colors on the cover of the album/cd (I have both record and cd, though this morning we listened to the cd). Thanks for letting me enjoy this this morning, Beenie. I know it was a lot for you to allow non-“BALLET” music to eek out of the stereo. Recently Beenie has been a total music nazi, much the same as her sister was about a year and a half ago, when all Mimi could tolerate was Bjork’s “Debut” record over and over and over and over again. Nothing else would do. And now it is Beenie’s turn… though her tastes are a tad more conservative, and she insists on listening to classical piano music, specifically Arthur Rubenstein performing Chopin Waltzes. I grew up listening to this music, so I don’t mind it so much. It’s just funny she got so hooked on it. Again, only for the aesthetics of the imaginary ballet atmosphere she is trying to achieve. In her head. Both she and Mimi do “my ballet”, pronounced ba-yeah, as if in Spanish or French. Both stand in their crib or next to furniture, hold onto the edge and raise their legs in the air as if they are spraying the props in flowery ba-yeah pee-pee. I must have already written about this. Hilarious.

mjqNot hilarious, however, is their continued chatter. They have been in their bedroom, in their cribs, since 2pm, EST and now it is 3:30pm. I usually wake them up around 4:30. I wonder if they will have any nap at all today. They really should try to get an hour or so at least. Beenie has a “little cold” and Mimi just needs her beauty sleep or things get real, real ugly.

Mimi, my little danger dog, has fallen and hit her head TWICE since yesterday. The first time was pretty bad… I was sitting with husband and Beenie on the couch trying to browse through the NYTimes Magazine, when suddenly Mimi, who was sitting on my lap, went flying off of it, hitting her head on the edge of the coffee table. CRACK! Luckily, B (my spouse, partner, hubbo) made the coffee table with rounded edges, no corners. Terrible, though. And I think it hit her just above the temple. Then this morning, me and the ladies were hanging out on our bed, looking at my ring collection, when Mimi dropped HEAD FIRST off the edge of the bed, that is about 2.5 feet off the ground, landing on her poor head on the hardwood floor below. OUCH! That one worried me. Two consecutive head whacks are bad. Poor, poor Mimi! I hate that sound. That sound was prevalent in our house when she was learning to walk. Beenie never took serious head-first slams on the floor, but Mimi sure did. She was and is fearless. Shameless, too. One of her better qualities in my opinion. Maybe today’s boycott of naps isn’t so horrible. It is better to keep head injury victims awake for a while after the event, no? I’ll try to look at this as a plus today. But tomorrow I’ll be pissed if there’s no nap. PISSED, GIRLS! DO YOU HEAR ME!?

cupteaPainted with some watercolors for about 15 minutes last night before I was informed it was beddie-bye time. Does anyone else think it is ludicrous that a 40 year old man tells a 41 year old woman that it is time for bed? I do. I think it is downright inappropriate. I should be able to stay up as late as I like, no matter how ungodly awful it makes me feel the next day. I suppose the point is that our house is small, and every little step hither and yon makes squeaky noises in the old hardwood flooring, keeping everyone in the house up. I’m not sure I believe that or not. To a point. No matter, tho. There are so many more important battles to fight, ya know? If the breadwinner needs his shut-eye, he can have it. I should try to drink more so I am tired at night and want to go to bed early, too. Unfortunately, alcohol has not been rubbing me the right way of late, so I am reduced to drinking tea, the old people’s cocktail. Ginger Lemon, anyone?

I had an idea for a book this afternoon as I collected laundry for the basement. I could do an experiment of what it is like to be a good housewife for a week. More thought is needed to realize this dream/nightmare. Must investigate. Don’t know if I am capable of being a good housewife for a whole week. It could kill me.

Does anyone out there have any thoughts/advice on how to get a government job? I’ve been looking at I feel like there are secrets I should have access to to get this type of job. I’d like some input from the vast group of people reading this blog. Help a sister out!

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