"The time has come," the Walrus said,
"To talk of many things:
Of shoes-and ships-and sealing-wax-
Of cabbages-and kings-
And why the sea is boiling hot-
And whether pigs have wings."

- The Walrus and the Carpenter by Lewis Carrol
(From Through the Looking-Glass and What Alice Found There, 1872)

Tuesday, August 23, 2011


What a day.


Typical morning craziness. Out the door by 7.30. Drop the kiddo at daycare by 8. Check in with work by 8.15. Back-to-back meetings from 9am - 2pm. Crazy catchup afterward with a flurry of emails. Network crash. Shit. Can't do web programming that I need to do with no internet. Reassess to-do list and plan for the next day. 4pm, time to go get the kiddo. Walk to parking lot. Admire museum en route. Drive to daycare. No parking available in drop-off lanes. Shit. Circle around the block. No parking available. Shit, shit. Circle around the block. Park. Finally. Check in with security. Answer the old, grumpy security guy's questions ("Do you work for the State?" "No, I sort of work for the city." "Sort of? Either you do or you don't"...ugh...seriously, I have to explain this now?). Get my security badge, walk through metal detector, collect car keys, spy the kiddo playing perfectly happily on her own. Ahh. "Abbey?" [insert squeals of delight from my daughter]. Smile. Get the daily report from her teachers. No afternoon nap. Shit. Oh, well. Collect her things. Back to the car. Strap her in. Let the crying begin. Get in the car, drive away. Traffic. Child crying, "sshhh, sshhhh, sshhhhit this isn't working." Traffic. More crying. More traffic. Crying becomes red faced screaming. Nothing helps. Turn up NPR. Try to tune out. Impossible. Traffic, traffic, traffic. Shit, shit, shitty shit. 35 minutes pass. Finally pull into driveway. Screaming ends. Ahh. Grab work bag, baby bag, lunch bag, and baby. Enter the house. Where is the husband? "Hello? A little help here? Hello?" Upstairs to the bedroom. Locate husband. Give frazzeled update. Plop kiddo on the floor to play. Change out of work clothes. Go to kitchen to make bottle. Notice puddle of dog pee on hardwood floor. Shit. "Dante!" Clean up mess [insert muttering here]. Hear solid thud from ceiling above. Loud baby cries. Shit. "Is she okay?" "She's fine." More cries. Wailing. Rush upstairs with baby bottle. "What happened?" "She was crawling and crashed." Grab baby and soothe. Move to nursery, get ready for baby's bath. Crying, crying, crying. And then...bathtime. Ahhh. Happy baby. Assess the day with the hubs. Marriage banter here. Typical check-in. Baby rubs eyes. Time to get out. Into the nursery. Sing bunny foo foo. Into pajamas. Calm, soothe. Bottle. Snuggle. Sing songs. Head nuzzle. Kiss on the cheek. Rock in the chair.

And then.

A kiss.

My first kiss from my daughter.

Big, sloppy, poorly placed, and uncoordinated.

Absolutely perfect.

Tears form (mine this time).

A kiss really does make everything better.

Kiddo off to bed...sleep...mommy off for some well-deserved "me-time". Cocktails will be involved.

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