17 November 2009

a veruca salt sort of day...

i feel petulant this morning.

i don't know why, but i'm fairly certain it has nothing absolutely totally to do with that small wildebeest otherwise known as esmé. yeah yeah yeah...she's a peter pan sprite of an imp who never fails to bring a giant smile to my face. no matter how many times she flushes items down the toilet that she never ever ever wants to see again. like that old beanie baby angel whose wings she hacked off with her safety scissors.

i asked but how will he fly?

mémé shrugged. answered i think him's had enough of the flying.

i just stared at her. it's a technique i often use when someone says something really unsmart or unkind or just plain mean. i'm the passive-aggro princess when it comes to tilting my head to one side, smiling, and asking faux innocently i'm sorry? just so the meanie must repeat.

that never works with mémé, as she's the queen of french exits. that little surgeon turned on her heel and walked away.

i sat there thinking manson. i told you i tend to fast forward with my worry. and then i heard the flush. the gasp. the pause. the mom? MOM? i think him needs your help!

i'm going to pretend she felt guilty. that the garbage bin was simply too temporal for her liking. she could maybe still hear his screams.

so last night i was trying to put her to bed. in my bed. {when did i become a co-sleeper sort of parent? i am chagrined. first time ever using that word. but it's what i am.} and i was tired and cranky and miffed and petulant. toilet dramas always put me in a mood. add a sad wet beanie baby to one? oh, it's over.

so i may have threatened you'd better fall asleep now because it's the witching hour and if they look in our house and see that i'm the sort of mother who lets my baby stay up this late...they'll...they'll...

at this, i pretended to die or pass out. whatever sounds less awful.

all of a sudden, a small hand lightly smacks my open mouth. i sat up and there's charles manson. i mean mémé. with her hands folded behind her head. just lounging.

you're right. she said. the witches tried to get you. but i think we'll be ok now.

i'm sorry?

today, i'm saying "i want" a lot. in a really mad voice. i want a white devil laundry bag i can wear in the winter. my summer sack is all ripped up and way too white. but no one will make me one in a charcoal jersey or even black. can someone please say yes to me? also, i want that indoor stove to be more than a master thesis project. i would like it to be in my home. and would it be too much trouble for someone to make me a fluffy cake or three? or at least take pictures of some like france ruffenach does? mostly, i want a child-free bed. if i get all of that or just one good night's sleep, i will be in a mucho better mood tomorrow. promise. one more thing: you know how i feel about my mémé. and if she wants to sleep in my bed for another twenty years, i probably wouldn't mind one bit. she wakes up a few times nightly, kisses my cheek, and says i love you, mommy. she's a dream. i just need sleep. xoxo.


kathleen said...

this is when i realize i need to stop griping that sophiekept me up all night. i don't need to let her in the room. i can lock her in a cage.

too bad that's only ok for dogs. ;)

agirl said...

I almost fell off my chair laughing. Your little one is quite amazing, and you sure do know how to tell a story.

Kelly said...

your esmé stories always make me smile and want one just like her. too bad we don't live closer - i'm a whiz with a plunger and you could get some sleep. *smile*


mary said...


[Esme is hilarious. I mean that.] xoxo

mrs. darling said...

i wish that bag was a dress. i would wear it every single day.

and i hope that someday if i have a little girl...she will be half as hysterical as esme is.

Heather said...

love this!

Joslyn said...

hmmm...yes i need a child free bed too. but i fear it will never happen. ever.

i too am chagrined.

Anonymous said...

I think my Della is going to be a little bit like your Meme. Spirited as a toddler? Red hair that I blame for all of it.

Loving this story as usual.

Try etsy for the bag? They have a function where you can put a request out and people say if they can do it.

A-M said...

Did you get 'beanie baby angel' back or is she going to come back to haunt you in an unexpected plumbing catastrophe? We have these moments too. A brand new, expensive, yet 'broken' piano music book stapled back together in the hope that Mum didn't notice, except all the pages are stapled together so that no music can be read. What? what? No it wasn't me. Grrr, yes some petulance is a given. A-M xx

Simply Mel said...

I've grown to love crumbs in the bed...

Melissa de la Fuente said...

First of all my darlin Karey....don't worry. I always jump to the worst conclusions too and Esme will teach us all one day( in a good way) :) Secondly....YES! I say yes, and I say if you want to eat cake, in YOUR bed, with that fireplace beside you and stroking that bag? I say YES! goddammit.
ps I will never have a child free bed either, you are not alone.
pss although, some day they will want nothing to do with us and I will wish they wanted to snuggle in my bed again....right?

Kristin said...

Karey, I'm beginning to wonder if I will ever sleep again. My little 'wildebeasts' have proven that they are much the night owls and not the early birds I would prefer them to be. Alas, someday I'll get to rest this weary body.

on another note, may i just tell you how much i am enjoying -- as in my heart swells with each word -- your Sweeterie venture with Mary? Seriously, your words are amazing. You're quotable. Did you know that? I want to quote you. You're that good.

Hopefully that puts a smile on your face. ;)

Kristin said...
This comment has been removed by a blog administrator.
Kristin said...
This comment has been removed by a blog administrator.
Anonymous said...

this is the most amazing story. i love your stories.
i can't believe she smacked your mouth open so non-chalantly! get those witches out of here!!! hahahaha. i was laughing through the whole thing.
have a great rest of your week!

Richie Designs said...

you kill me daily with these tales.

things you just don't ponder as an adult, flushing anything down the toilet except the obvious.

Callie Grayson said...

I LOVE to read your blog daily! I laugh so hard the my face hurts! HURTS I say, then I was laughing so hard that I went into a coughing fit.


ZDub said...

I'm loving this.

And I'm so borrowing your "I'm sorry?" routine. It probably works better than me just calling dumb people assholes.

Also, I need to practice my French exit. Love that.

krista said...

as i sit here, my daughter just climbed up on the dining room table FOUR times. FOUR. and then smacked my nose when i put her down.
le sigh.
is that why they're so cute? to keep us from bundling them up and flushing them down the toilet?
(relax, people, i jest.)