As I sit here typing away, I am annoyed. ANNOYED, I tell you. At this very moment, and since way too early this morning, there have been people out in our yard and neighborhood mowing the grass.
Now, don't hate. We aren't all wealthy and cool enough to have professional mower types mowing our lawn. For goodness sake, we live in a townhouse that's so tiny you can stand in the living room, dining room, and kitchen all at one time. And have you seen our half bath? It should have been called a quarter bath because if you raise your arms up even a little, you can't turn around. Claustrophobics best go to McDonald's to pee, cause they won't survive in there. Anyway, we live in one of those Association-type neighborhoods, so we pay a fabulous fee of $27 each month to allow people who don't speak any English to do a really crappy job of mowing our grass. Oh, and they don't speak Spanish either because I TRIED THAT (Antendi el colegio en Alicante). There are still grass clippings getting shot into the pond and perfectly good plants getting run over with a mower. The grass wasn't even long enough to need mowed. If only we could mow it ourselves . . . Oh, and, dude, there are extension cords running all over our front yard lighting up the cemetery and ghosts and ghouls and if they hack even one of my precious extension cords, Ima gonna be doing me some Spanglish yelling in hopes that maybe they'll understand at least one word. STEP A LEJOS DE LOS EXTENSION CORDS, COMPRENDES?
Gawd, my head hurts from all that Spanish. No more thinking for me.
The other source of my annoyance is that I have been outsmarted by the one-year old. Again. Yesterday, when she asked to take a nap? It was a trick. A mean, mean trick. I'm reaping the benefits right this minute.
Peoples, we took away the pacifier months and months ago. I happen to hate the things and really had no intention of ever crossing into over the darkside. But that kid? That kid NEEDED to suck something when she was little. And I breastfed. So I had a choice, I could have a kid attached to me at all times, or I could give her a pacifier. Did I mention that I love pacifiers? Anyway, we took them away months ago.
While we were doing a stellar job in that arena, we were doing a crap-tastic job teaching our kid how to take naps. The girl went over a year without taking a single nap in her crib. At daycare they would wave a magical wand and get her to nap on her little cot on cue. At home, we would go for a drive so she could take a nap in the car. Seriously, the girl has been in the car for her afternoon nap every single Saturday and Sunday for a very long time. It was never really a problem since we are ALWAYS out running around on the weekends.
Now enter the issue of being home with her 7 days a week and suddenly paying for gas while your kid catches a few z's doesn't seem like such a brilliant idea. Sooooooo, I cheated. I decided I would give her a pacifier at naptime and she would fall asleep. It was brilliant in an avoiding self-torture sort of way. What I didn't realize is that Alexis the Genius quickly associated naptime with pacifier time. So, yesterday when she asked to take a nap? What she was really asking for was her pacifier. It just so happened that she was sleepy, so I didn't realize what was going on. Today, on the other hand, she asked again to "nap." And she has now been running around with a pacifier in her mouth for nearly two hours. Not sleeping. Because she's not sleepy. She just wanted her fix.
Hello, my daughter's name is Alexis and she has a problem. She has a very serious addiction to pacifiers. Is there a 12-step program for this kind of thing?