G-strings, Birthdays and the Great Need for Patience
For as much joy as little Ellie Graye brings to me, she can make me bat-crap nutso in a way that is almost comical, but not quite…especially when she’s tired and hungry – which tonight she was both of. The tired part, we just had to wait out; the hungry part? Oh man, oh man, oh man. She wouldn’t eat ANYTHING – and I refuse to give her crappy food. She’ll eventually get hungry enough to eat something with actual nutritional value. I cannot wait until I can say, “I’m not your line-order chef, little girl,” or “This is what we’re having for dinner; it’s this or nothing.” For now the food thing is just crazy-making, and I’m about ready to pull my hair out! But I AIN’T giving in!
She has over the last few days been eating gnocchi…which is better than french fries, I suppose. In order to alleviate at least a little bit of the guilt surrounding giving her a carb overload, I decided to make some homemade pumpkin gnocchi. I did – and rather successfully, I might add. BUT my darling daughter decided that since they didn’t look exactly like the gnocchi from Trader Joe’s, they were better off served to the dogs who sat beneath the high-chair eagerly awaiting her cast-offs. Nothing like seeing your hard work get hurled across the room as dogs jump into the air snapping at flying pieces of pasta.
It was almost as entertaining as that Wii game where you try to hit the soccer balls with your head but avoid the shoes and panda heads that are being thrown at you wildly across the screen. Gnocchi was everywhere. Scraping pasta off the walls of the kitchen while my child screamed and thrashed around on the floor wasn’t exactly how I would have planned my birthday. But it is what it is.
I did have to call and vent to my unexpecting husband who answered the phone chipperly, “Hey Babe! How’s your birthday?”
“IT’S HORRIBLE!”
“Oh. Man. It must be really hard having the baby so much by yourself,” he said in a sincerely sympathetic voice.
Crap. Why’s he gotta be so good at this???
I was still annoyed and upset and feeling sorry for myself, but yet another good guy helped me chill out a bit more – my friend Matt. He has a little boy a few months older than Ellie Graye, and was understanding, patient, and sympathetic too. Just having someone say, “Wow! That sucks!” made things feel a little less overwhelming.
Needless to say, EG went to bed early tonight…and without a fight. Maybe she was just overtired.
Today was also Victor’s 40th birthday. Oddly enough, despite his constant work right alongside me, I had never given him samples of all the vodkas that I’ve made. Thus, part of his gift was just that – a sampler pack of 12 of the different vodkas that we’ve made from what we’ve grown here at DPF (there are still 5 – 6 more flavors!!!).
I covered a box with wallpaper I had found on clearance somewhere a while ago, and then wrapped it up in cellophane. I was pretty happy with how it turned out.
My mother brought me lunch today in honor of my birthday. I’m glad she lives so close now; her visit helped make my day special!
I was just chatting with a friend of mine from the days I spent in Madonna’s household. One particular birthday of mine was…well…it was odd. We all gathered round for cake and gift-giving – the kids gave me their cute little cards, and I started opening gifts from other members of the household staff. As I opened them, I became more and more confused…finally, I asked, “Um, did you guys come up with a theme for this birthday or something?” When I finally opened the gift from Madonna herself, I just laughed. For some reason (and no, it wasn’t planned), everyone had gotten me some kind of underwear…the chef had bought me a tank with matching panties that said, “I like boys.” The other nanny had bought me a cute little nighty. The gift from Madonna? A g-string with beads. Yes. That’s what I said. The clincher? The beads could be taken off and used as a necklace – I kept it, because, well…because I have a g-string from Madonna.
My birthday present to myself? Sleep.
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