We are in the thunder and lightening days of summer. It has been nearly three months since I wrote a thing other than a grocery list. There are many excuses. Aren't there always? Some things that were hard. Some things I made harder. A blank page was just one more thing I met with uncertainty. And avoidance. Poor, much loved, much helped, little girl. Honestly, it all seems a little bourgeois to me now.
"She is given to fits of semi-precious metaphors." - Juniper Pearl Benny and Joon. Cinematic perfection. Chocolate cake. On a day with thunder. While Margaret sleeps. My cup runneth over.
Yesterday, Margaret officially established herself as the smartest third of our family equation. She and I had been playing house for several hours. Putting baby to bed. Dropping baby. Picking up baby and making her feel better. Cleaning. Dancing. You know, the usual.
In the middle of it all she turns to me,
"Time Out, Mommy?" "No, sugar pi, we are playing! Don't worry about time out." "Time Out, please?" "Zuzu, you are crazy. No time out."
Brief moment of two year old concentration. Bright smile. Followed by a hard slap across my leg.
"I HIT MOMMY! TIME OUT!"
At which point she triumphantly crossed the room and placed herself in the corner.
Just 30 seconds and the two foot tall evil genius neutralized the one weapon in my mommy arsenal.
I guess it was just a matter of time.