Light Refreshments Served

I’m sort of sick of Ellen right now. Even though she has been my most pleasant and best-sleeping baby, she’s turning into a 16-month-old royal pain. Mobile. Curious. Frustrated. Frustrating. She rejects real toys for computers and cleaning supplies. Every day she has a goal to run into my office, climb on the desk, and walk on the printer. She’s very goal-oriented.

I spend much of the day thinking about how she’s such a pain. So it is probably guilt which compels me to write her a tribute of sorts.

Ellen likes to put on her black tennis shoes and walk around in them. She prefers them with all outfits, even when they aren’t flattering (with capris) and don’t match (with navy blue dresses).

She can whistle, so that’s pretty amazing.

When she’s bad she bangs her head on the floor or the wall–anything hard–to show us that she is mad and has not gotten what she wanted (usually a 32 oz of Diet Coke that is trying to hide behind my back). Bang!

She’s fat and confident. I’m so sick of fat people who are down on themselves–get over it!

When it’s time, she just lays in her crib and falls asleep. I didn’t know babies did that. If you didn’t know that either, I’m sorry to break it to you, but you’ve probably been doing something wrong at bedtime. Just kidding! Don’t bang your head on the floor.

Ellen has no perception of size. She tries to suck on a (chokeable) doll pacifier and I have seen her back up to a small wooden couch from a dollhouse and try to sit down on it. That’s comedy!

She likes tortilla chips too.

While I’m at it, I feel like paying tribute to my whole family. So here’s to my son Sam who asked me how to get Medicaid because he wants to order a motorized wheelchair and have them pay for it.

And here’s to Maggie who told me (when I made everyone say what they love about me, like I do), “I love you because you get us nice presents–not like a single piece of candy.”

As for Ben? Well, here’s to Ben!

And finally, I pay homage to my husband, Christian, who recently exclaimed at the end of What Not to Wear, “I love how everybody’s pretty–even the fatties!”

And, what the heck, here’s a shout out to my sister, Erin. She called me to make sure she had used the term et tu Brute fittingly because her co-workers were puzzled by the reference. Of course she had used it correctly. But she was somewhat sheepish because days before that she had insisted to the same coworkers that her pronunciation of kowtow as “cow toe” was correct. I mean, really insisted on it. You win some, you lose some. Carpe diem!

And here’s to my dog Ollie for making me chuckle (to myself) when he barks and lunges at joggers on the river trail and they fall over even though I restrain him. I hope he doesn’t bite anyone [else]! Give him props, he may not be long for this world.

Pay tribute to your family today. It makes you feel better for resenting them. Salud!