Nice kitty

I think I said I was going to try to post every week? That has turned out to be too ambitious, for this month anyway. I was sick all last week, and then on Monday my grandmother passed away and we had to have Max put down. So things are okay but they also kind of suck. I am so tired today (in that way where you get up in the morning and think, “I did actually go to bed last night, didn’t I?”) that I have had many cups of coffee today. Let’s plan to all meet back here at 1 a.m. when I can’t sleep. We’ll watch some infomercials or something.

There isn’t any kind of segue that will get me smoothly from that last paragraph to a more cheerful topic, so I’m not going to bother. What I’m talking about is well-travelled ground anyway: I would like to know what is the deal with toddlers? There is just enough of this kind of stuff:

Ellie: My scared, Mommy.
Me: Why are you scared, Ellie Bean?
Ellie: Where’d my belly button go?! Oh, there it is. It was under my onesie.

to keep you from putting them out on the curb with all of their stuff and a big sign that says “FREE TO A GOOD HOME” when they epically melt down over, I don’t even know, having to wear a pair of pajamas other than the polka dot ones. Or your insistence that they occasionally keep their clothes on inside the house. Or the fact that they have had their One More Minute and it is time to get out of the bath tub, this time I really mean it.

I’m never sure what to do in cases like these. I don’t want to dismiss her concerns (nothing makes me fly into an impotent rage as fast as being told to “relax”) especially since a lot of the things that get her all worked up are the same things that get ME all worked up, so I can really sympathize … but it’s also my job as her mom to teach her how to navigate difficult or frustrating situations. Maybe I am over-thinking things here. Toddlers freak out over stuff, right? It’s practically in their job description.

Since we’re not doing segues today, I will also tell you that Mike came home from work a few weeks ago and told me that someone had told him over lunch that the little town we live in is known for having a lot of swingers and there is even a certain thing you can do to your house to alert people to the fact that you participate in this lifestyle. This GREATLY piqued my interest because come on, who wouldn’t want to drive around town and see if any of the people you know have whatever it is outside their house, and also what if we are doing it unintentionally? (Is it a brown doormat with turquoise flowers? WE HAVE A BROWN DOORMAT WITH TURQUOISE FLOWERS.) However, Mike didn’t ask what the symbol was AND he doesn’t remember who it was that brought it up, so there’s no way for him to obtain this information for me without sparking a lot of gossip at the office.