So Monkey has a bedtime routine that involves, among other things, delaying sleep like a Master Jedi Knight with her mindtricks, and fighting sleep like a madwoman.
Usually, she'll flick the light on, and continue to cry for a bit, then settle into her crib and play with one of the gazillion items she's wheedled out of us and that everntually we'll need to pry out from underneath her sleeping form, later in the night.
Only last night? She not only asked to be put into her crib after I read her last book of the night, but then she said "thank you mommy" and promptly laid down in her crib to sleep!
No tears! No last demands for a 18th book or 29th toy for her enjoyment! No flicking the lights back on after I left!
Where is my daughter and who are you???
Monday, July 28, 2008
Open work space my a$$
On December 25th (baby #2s's official due-date!) my work is moving to a new building on campus. One dedicated solely to alumni relations, communication & development. With an alumni welcome center, space for alumni to rest and read in, surf the internet, and hold events. It's even going to be a green building. So on the surface, that all sounds great, right?
Only one problem - we're going to be in f*cking cubicles. Every single one of us. Ugh.
Adding insult to injury, the bathrooms on each floor will be single-stall, gender neutral. And so help me g*d, if any of my male colleagues head off to use those bathrooms with a newspaper tucked under their arm, there will be hell to pay! They can go down to the first floor and use the gendered public bathroom, thank you very much.
But today - today's tidbit of information is the piece de la resistance. When I approached HR with a question of where was I supposed to pump (you know, three times a day, 20-60 minutes per session depending upon set up and break down of the equipment, 5 days a week for three f*cking months - only as estimated 3600 to 10800 minutes of my life, aka 60 to 180 HOURS OF TIME) they assured me blithly - oh, no problem! Use a conference room!
Only, today I learned that ever SINGLE F*CKING conference room is windowed and "open" meaning anyone can look in. WTF?
Apparently my choices are going to be:
1) balance on the toilet seat and yell at people that pound on the door asking me to hurry up, or
2) take at least three hours out of my day by walking to and from the only "lactation" room on campus that is several blocks away (and get fired for working 25 hours a week, nice), or
3) balance on the toilet seat of the gender-specific public bathroom on the first floor and hope that too much aerosolized crap doesn't float through the air and somehow get into the breast milk I am agonizingly pumping. Gross.
And people wonder why working mothers have a rough time when they come back to work. And I LIKE working!
Only one problem - we're going to be in f*cking cubicles. Every single one of us. Ugh.
Adding insult to injury, the bathrooms on each floor will be single-stall, gender neutral. And so help me g*d, if any of my male colleagues head off to use those bathrooms with a newspaper tucked under their arm, there will be hell to pay! They can go down to the first floor and use the gendered public bathroom, thank you very much.
But today - today's tidbit of information is the piece de la resistance. When I approached HR with a question of where was I supposed to pump (you know, three times a day, 20-60 minutes per session depending upon set up and break down of the equipment, 5 days a week for three f*cking months - only as estimated 3600 to 10800 minutes of my life, aka 60 to 180 HOURS OF TIME) they assured me blithly - oh, no problem! Use a conference room!
Only, today I learned that ever SINGLE F*CKING conference room is windowed and "open" meaning anyone can look in. WTF?
Apparently my choices are going to be:
1) balance on the toilet seat and yell at people that pound on the door asking me to hurry up, or
2) take at least three hours out of my day by walking to and from the only "lactation" room on campus that is several blocks away (and get fired for working 25 hours a week, nice), or
3) balance on the toilet seat of the gender-specific public bathroom on the first floor and hope that too much aerosolized crap doesn't float through the air and somehow get into the breast milk I am agonizingly pumping. Gross.
And people wonder why working mothers have a rough time when they come back to work. And I LIKE working!
Friday, July 25, 2008
Vogue, look out!
Nana arranged for Monkey and her cousin Emma D to have a professional photograph taken while we were visiting. She bought matching (beautiful!) dresses, which Monkey will wear again at Christmas, for both of the girls. And we were told to procure cream ribbons for the hair....
and lo and behold, these kids are damn cute!
and lo and behold, these kids are damn cute!
Thursday, July 24, 2008
Recent Conversations with Monkey
Monkey: Sit daddy's lap?
Me: No sweetie, the plane is landing, you need to stay in your seat.
Monkey: (ok, woman, you clearly didn't understand me - let's try this again) MONKEY (well, her real name, but you get the picture) sit daddy's lap?
Me: No, sweetie, you can't sit on daddy's lap, but thanks for the clarification!
***
Scene: On the bus this morning.
Action: Passengers disembarking from the bus.
Monkey: BYE PEOPLE!!!!!!!!!!!
***
Me: (giving Monkey a kiss) Monkey, you are such a sweet kid.
Monkey: No kisses mommy, no kisses.
Me: Snort, giggle, ok, maybe you aren't so sweet after all.
***
Scene: In the elevator, holding a balloon from a birthday party, well past her naptime...
Action: Monkey grabs the balloon, pulls it to her face, and it bursts.
Me & M: quick uptake of breath, waiting for the screams to commence.
Monkey: What happened? (and NO screams!)
Me & M: giggle, laugh, phew!
Me: No sweetie, the plane is landing, you need to stay in your seat.
Monkey: (ok, woman, you clearly didn't understand me - let's try this again) MONKEY (well, her real name, but you get the picture) sit daddy's lap?
Me: No, sweetie, you can't sit on daddy's lap, but thanks for the clarification!
***
Scene: On the bus this morning.
Action: Passengers disembarking from the bus.
Monkey: BYE PEOPLE!!!!!!!!!!!
***
Me: (giving Monkey a kiss) Monkey, you are such a sweet kid.
Monkey: No kisses mommy, no kisses.
Me: Snort, giggle, ok, maybe you aren't so sweet after all.
***
Scene: In the elevator, holding a balloon from a birthday party, well past her naptime...
Action: Monkey grabs the balloon, pulls it to her face, and it bursts.
Me & M: quick uptake of breath, waiting for the screams to commence.
Monkey: What happened? (and NO screams!)
Me & M: giggle, laugh, phew!
Tuesday, July 22, 2008
Music to my ears
Tonight it is M's turn to read to Monkey and put her to bed. We trade off, so we both get to read books to her, snuggle with her on the glider, and revel in her presence.
Tonight, Monkey chose a book full of songs. So M sang.
It is music to my ears. They are so happy.
And I couldn't love them more.
Tonight, Monkey chose a book full of songs. So M sang.
It is music to my ears. They are so happy.
And I couldn't love them more.
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