Children's Books, More Misms, plans

Yesterday G. was working all day, so M. and I had a lot of time together. I think I finally struck the right chores/playtime balance. Finally. Following several nasty blow-ups with G. about his piss-poor contribution to household chores (sheesh, of course men have time to blog everyday, create and maintain Fantasy Football teams, write novels and screenplays, etc. -- Virginia Woolf, why didn't I take you more deeply to heart? That's a rant for another day) I've come up with a solution of my own. I am keeping track of the household chores I do every day, and when I hit three on any given weekend day or 1 on a weekday, I shall stop. The place is a flippin' mess right now, but if I could manage to get used to Z., I can get used to the current state of affairs in my household. I will get used to it. I will get used to it. I will get used to it. I will survive the chaos! I will find order in chaos!

Yesterday it seemed to actually work. I did dishes, cleaned the bathtub and toilet, and folded last week's clothes -- Bing! Bing! Bing! Three chores! And then I stopped. (Well, not really, because afterward I wound up stopping by the auto repair shop to schedule a brake job. Bing!) After the chores, M. and I went to Target, where she bought Daddy a birthday gift (a plush car), the antique shop on Western Avenue, and then to Ronnie's. We wound up going to "the swings and the slides" and eating some "special ice cream." When we came home, rather than aggravating myself by trying to bill some hours, I left M. with G. and did a little grocery shopping (Bing! -- oops, hey, this is adding up! Reminds me of work -- how much billing can I lose helping other people meet their hours? I digress.)

So...Anyway. I will report back in a month and see whether my aggravation level is down. On a related note, I have an appointment with an actual doctor this week to talk about Ritalin. Possibly...possibly. It's only a thought. Don't know if I will go through with it. I can't let my, um, eccentricity/creativity pride(?), prevent me from doing something that will actually improve my life, and the lives of those around me by butterfly effect. G. did a little imitation of me the other day: "A conversation with L" We'd talk, and in the middle of a sentence his eyes would start darting around. "Is it that bad?" I asked, although I already knew the answer. This is where "L is weird" probably started all those years ago (remember that conversation with KR in Ms. H's classroom???) I then confessed a long stream of ADD sins -- stopping in the middle of writing a letter and starting a wholly unrelated one. Leaving e-mails half-finished, minimized, at the bottom of the screen, adding up until I have 20 by the end of the day. The piles, the piles! Drifting off in the middle of a deposition....

Oh! I wanted to talk about Children's books. Latest idea: M. and I were looking for Harold the Helicopter yesterday. She wanted me to make him talk. When she lost him in the disaster that is our living room right now, I had him talk to her from beyond -- advising her that he couldn't see, it was dark, would she rescue him? The idea of a lost toy, caught in a mess at the bottom of a closet, sprung to mind. Possibly a lesson for kids about picking up their toys (try not to be heavy-handed) but my goal is really just to create a whimsical look into M.'s world, where all the toys talk. We'll see if I can actually pull this together.

More Misms. She sings "ALL THE BRICKS ARE FALLING DOWN! FALLING DOWN! FALLING DOWN! ALL THE BRICKS ARE FALLING DOWN! My FAIR LadEE! TAKE THE KEY AND ROCK HER UP! ROCK her UP, ROCK her UP!..." You get the picture. She sings a LOT. She repeats things. When we leave the parking lot at RC: "Please insert your ticket with the mag stripe up and to the left." She repeats" "Please insert your ticket with the Mag stripe UP and To the ROCK." Then she and I will start a back-and-forth. I'll say, "Please insert your ticket with the Mag stripe UP and To the ROCK!" and she'll say, "Please insert your ticket with the Mag stripe UP and TO the TREE!" and I say, "Please insert your ticket with the Mag stripe UP and TO the BOAT!" and so on and so on. I will miss this silliness when she is older. I love her so much.

Keeping my fingers crossed about the recent audition. We'll see if they decide I'm right for the part at the theater on LaSalle. Prayers. Hopes. Think good thoughts!