Calling contractors is similarly disheartening, but at least I know there's going to be a significant return on my investment. I know I'm building equity. With your kid, it's a crapshoot on that score.
I say all this, but every night, we lie in bed and the energy emanating from that little body snoozing away in the next room worms its way into your heart and envelops you in a warm wash of memories of happy smiles and chuckles and baby babble. At the end of the day, lying in bed, there's a certain Darwinian trick that results in your ability to only recollect the good stuff and not the crying, the screaming, the poopsplosions, or the particularly demeaning moment when you found yourself seething at your child through gritted teeth, "shut up, shut up, SHUT UP!"
The Boobla (or the Bubby as I've been calling him of late) is SO FREAKIN' CUTE! i love him to pieces. I love his soft skin and showering his chubby belly with kisses and tickling him and making him do his silent, open-mouthed, one-note laughs. I love it when we're reading the nighttime story and the Dotytron is holding him and you can see the Bubby fighting sleep. I love how he's starting to talk more and more and how his favorite place to hold court is on high on the changing table, where he loves to tell us his thoughts on all topics big and small. I love how one of his favorite things to do while eating is to break off from the boob and coo at me to test me to see if I'm listening and will repeat back what he's said, and I love the big grin of satisfaction he gets when I do. The Dotytron and I still look at each other sometimes and say, "we made this!" with equal parts wonder, pride, and incredulity.
Funny moment with our Portuguese contractor (one of many names I keep on file) the other day. I had him in to take a look at a leak in our kitchen ceiling that's been happening when we take a bath. Well, apparently, "bath" means a different thing to Carlos than it does for me. "Bath" for Carlos is inclusive of showering AND running the tub, so he was a bit startled when he started checking the shower and I said, "no, it only happens when we take a bath" and he said, "every time?" and I said, "well, we only take a bath at most, a couple of times a month." I was wondering why he paused for a bit before gamely going on to ascertain the problem - only realizing that he thought we were disgusting pigs when after a few more false starts he finally said, "oh, you mean it only happens when you use the TUB?" HAHAHA!
We watched Winter's Bone the other night - a story about a girl in the Ozarks looking for her meth-cooking MIA dad. Anchored by a strong, steely performance by Jennifer Lawrence, it's a story that I found enthralling because it shows you a piece of America that you don't normally see - what it's like in the Ozarks for people growing up dirt poor, addicted to meth, on the fringes, and far from the urban comforts of which I'm so familiar. The film is gorgeous and the story has a tense urgency that makes you invested in her increasingly dire situation. There is something beautiful in the craggy, lined, faces and sunken mouths of people in the film...the performances were all exquisitely good, especially the actor who plays the dead beat dad's menacing uncle, Teardrop. There's a beautiful scene featuring some banjos and fiddlers and bluegrass music - I love that stuff - it's so strange that such a beautiful music could come out of such abject poverty. I'd highly recommend this flick.
This means that we've seen 9 out of 10 of the best picture nominations for this year's Academy Awards. We just have to see The King's Speech and this might be our best record yet for the Oscars.
Monday night we had that kale and ricotta pie with a caesar salad:
Last night I made us cauliflower soup with a grilled zucchini, eggplant, roasted pepper, provolone and pesto panini.