Surrender, Dorothy

The Pain and Torture of Early Childhood Development

My girl is normal.  I'd like to focus on her talents (she knows 2+2 is 4! she can count to 30 in German! she mastered a shuffle step!) but her behavior of late assures me she is solidly normal, certainly not worse than other children, but normal.

She whines.

Last night we went to the Halloween party at her school.  She went as a fairy, natch. Last year she was Tinkerbell. The year before Ariel. The year before that we tried to dress her as a Care Bear, but she wasn't having it. And when she was seven months old and had no opinions, she was a pumpkin.

There were many other little children at this party in costumes that itched or were hot or had some other element of discomfort.  And it was dark at school and there were cobwebs up and some kids flat out REFUSED to go in the room with the cobwebs because, hello? SCARY. The little angel clung to me upon seeing her teachers dressed up, refusing to play the games unless I set down my huge purse, coat, her magic wand and the camera and walked up there with her. 

After the games, we had some juice and she looked around for her friends. We didn't see any of the kids from her class. I was really kind of sacked and just sat down and watched her mill around, looking for her friends. I told her we could stay for 15 more minutes and she should play on the big tree or the indoor slide, but she just sort of stood there, ribbons trailing off her head, looking like a wood nymph just in from the forest.  She was clearly not having fun, but when it came time to leave, she dug in, complaining loudly that I never let her do anything.

As was every other itchy, uncomfortable kid in the place.

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Updated!  Winner of Land's End stuff, hand sanitizers from Australia and Barbie and the Diamond Castle on Surrender, Dorothy: Reviews!

My Cat Can't Reach Her Butt

Earlier this week, the little angel and I took Bella the Cat in for a "sanitary shave." She's had a not-so-fresh scent, and I've taken to wiping her rear for her with a baby wipe at random points during the day.  I asked the groomer what the DEAL is, are all long-haired cats like this?

And she said no, Bella is just literally so fat she can't reach her own ass to clean it properly. 

UGH.

I know I've mentioned this before, and it's a pretty unsavory topic, but dude, this totally bothers me. I do not WANT to wipe my cat's ass.  I wiped my kid's ass for years.  I wipe my own ass.  I did not adopt a pet to keep us in baby wipes for rest of time.

Bella is on a new diet. Screw health. I just want this cat to be able to clean her own butt. 

GOD.

Here's the thing, though. She already eats Science Diet low-calorie cat food.  She gets the recommended amount on the bag for her size.  She gets a teaspoon of wet food at night, and a few treats.  But she really doesn't eat that much.  We're cutting back the treats, and I've reduced the amount of wet food.  She is fairly active, for a cat.  What else can you really do? Get her a kitty treadmill?  Do all indoor cats get huge and fat?

And Then She Decided I Was the Ghost

One of our VPs was walking around assigning people Halloween foam things today. The pregnant woman was a pumpkin, the wisecracking guy was a black cat, and I was a ghost. 

She meant it because I work from home so often, but I have kind of felt like a ghost these past few months, sort of hanging around the edges at work and speaking up only when forced or when the subject matter is strictly editorial. 

I used to be very loud, very boisterous at work.  I always said the most inappropriate things at meetings, but people let me get away with it because I had passion for what we were doing.  Somewhere between a horrible foray into another company in 2005 that nearly broke my spirit and three CEOs, four senior vice presidents, a round of lay-offs and the most recent Change of Which We Will Not Speak at my current home, I still care about what we are doing, but I've realized really? People will make their own decisions whether or not I spout off about them.  And that's okay.  It's called "work" for a reason.  I still really like what I do, when I'm honest with myself, even if the subject matter sometimes leaves something to be desired. I really love the people I work with. And I get to work from home a lot.  These are all good things. So I continue to try to contribute, even if it's in a much more specialized way these days.

Even if I am a ghost. God, that was eery.