Friday, January 13, 2012

January

January and I are officially not friends.  Usually it's February who lashes out at me like the mean girl in the locker room (and I'm not putting it past her this year, either), but so far January has really had it in for me.

I suppose technically it started right after Willow's birthday, when I developed the bronchial infection everybody's talking about (I've heard rumors it's whooping cough, for crying out loud), which rendered me voiceless, breathless, and unfit for much beyond lying there on the couch and whispering stories (nothing like a toddler shouting "Mommy read it loud!")


And just as I've been rebounding from that, I was slapped across the side of the head with a migraine (nothing like a toddler screaming "Jinglebell Rock" and shining a flashlight in your eyes).

Add to that Willow's sudden brain explosions which have her up and chatty at 4:30 every morning* but screaming with exhaustion by 9am (while refusing to nap.  Of course), and January is officially off my Christmas card list.**

In the mornings, we are good for nothing beyond playing with playdoh (a game which involves interminable lava-ball making on my part, so that Willow can then squish them into her volcano.  Variations include pizza and pepporini, and blueberries and pancakes, but the amount of tedious labor on my part remains the same), marathon readings of Kevin Henkes' mouse books, and a lot of hugs and kisses.***  In the afternoons, it's "I must play with a fan!"  "I must climb on the table!"  "I must pull over all the plants!"  "I must play with your steak knives!"  I prefer the playdoh.

All I'm saying is, you'd better bring your A-game, February, because we're only halfway through January and I'm already crying uncle.****

*Dave should be complaining about this one more than me, since he actually gets up with her sometimes, whereas I just bring her in bed with us so she can paw at my eyeballs and sit on my head.

**If, you know, I actually had one.

***I'm not really complaining about that one.

****Exhaustion has me digging in the bottom of the barrel for a metaphor salad.

6 comments:

justthreadtwiddling said...

My boys were born almost exactly 3 years apart. That meant 6 years straight of the ups and downs of infant to toddler. That was 35 years ago and sometimes I wish I had my toddlers back. The good and the not so good pass so very quickly. Thank you for bringing back some of those memories.

Chris said...

"A Bargain for Frances"...that was one of my favorites as a child! I'm going to get a copy for my nephew who's a few months younger than your daughter. Love those Frances books. :)

Nikki Van De Car said...

We love Frances! "Bread & Jam" for Frances is how we got Willow to eat string beans and meatballs...Gloria is extremely helpful in all things.

Vicki Suan said...

I hope you start feeling better. It sucks to be sick. Get well soon. PS, I've never seen an iced-over waterfall either. It looks cool.

Laura said...

Still migraine me have so no smartness coming... But your kiddo's cute. Just thought I'd say that.

Nikki Van De Car said...

I can't believe you still have your migraine...that's awful...