evolution is dirty

watching "breakfast at tiffany's" with the dumpling. have never seen it before! it brings to mind, specifically, the nature of talent. am i deeply, importantly talented? or just cleverly, entertainingly talented?

i cried at the end of the film. of course. all will be well as long as Cat is okay. truly, i had to pick up my cat and sob while sitting beside the dumpling. who, relatively gently, petted the cat.

another quote, from music this time. "that old man/old woman you hope to be is still an infant." actually, the more complete quote is:

as far as we know there's only one way to gauge time

whether it's play time, work time or hit-the-stage time

hours, minutes and seconds; bars, beats and ticks

your watch isn't broken right now, there is no need to fix it

slow down for a moment and think about this in the context of instants

that old man or old woman you hope to be is still an infant...

i have this horrible confession to make. i am not truly in love with being a mom. i still miss my old life. i am two thirds this woman, except for the acceptance part. is this because enough time has not passed? am i still in the dark moon phase? am i still depressed, and this is why, although i know my child's fat little wrists thoroughly, it's more through being stuck with her every day than through the romance of motherhood? or am i just broken?

i have this sneaky feeling that although some women experience the born-again motherhood love-fest, many of us (at least more than i) just take on motherhood like the job it is; sometimes rewarding, sometimes a pain in the ass. i connect this somewhat to being not madly in love with crafts and kitsch, but who knows. maybe i'm just being judgmental :)

anyway. here is some writing i did. if you read these, maybe my dark egg of self-esteem will crack slightly. the first one is very recent, the second one about a year ago. also, kerry rae is a good photographer. so i'm really not asking too much.

insert sulk here

ugh. avoiding even blogging.

mostly i feel really boring, like i'm repeating my problems over and over again. in the reality tv show of my life, the writers are clearly grasping for new ideas. hopefully we'll find something other than trauma to get excited about over here. yay daylight.

cat? sleeping. dumpling? now points at cat and says "iddy!" or "diddy!" which yes, is very cute.

queen? braving the minus billion degrees out there to go to his terribly exciting office job.

we had a gathering this past weekend; it was normal. chaos and his lovely sister came by, and some friends from the city who are on their baby moon (due in march, dropped their toddler off so they could enjoy some baby-free time). surprisingly, nothing was broken. the storm was moving in that night, and the highlight of the night was our friend driving up from calgary and arriving at 2.30am. not that i was awake then.

found a new cartoon! super funny, even if you aren't a parent. it helped me avoid yesterday, until the evening. the evening kind of sucked. but at least my bad mood helped me in a way. you know when you're so miserable you seek out lousy activities so as to better feel sorry for yourself? so my hand wash got done and i finally took out the garbage. woo.

then i retreated into the ray bradbury collection i've been flirting with for some time now. i'm actually getting through it. though last night i was annoyed at how many exclamation marks and italics his characters use. they are clearly far more passionate than i am right now and it's annoying. sorry ray.

i recently, in a fit of good mood, joined the local library and took out the new pd james book. have i blogged about this already? maybe an unfinished post... anyway, it was disappointing at first because it's a sequel to pride and prejudice, which i dislike. but it still had her eloquent writing skills and intricate plot, so it eventually redeemed itself.

winter sucks. go away. also, wtf american government? screw you.

more mayan jokes please

ushering in the new year with an entirely sick household. hopefully we all get over it soon. 'tis the season of germ-passing. ho ho hack up a lung.

so we've eaten lots of soup, drank lots of tea and slothed about like the sloths we secretly are. this morning the queen made us soup and tea and brought in juice boxes and we ate in bed with the dumpling eating bits of soup in bed too (less of a disaster than one might have reasonably expected. poor thing, her disaster capacity is down due to illness). now we've moved out to the living room. i got dressed but the queen is still in his bathrobe.

so, down with the wildlife calendar and up with the firefighters, search and rescue teams and other moustachioed heroes.

random time passed as i forgot about this blog entry. new day:

the queen: maybe we should rename olive something that starts with b, you know, so we can be the four bees.

me: bolive?

the queen: excuse me?

me: bolive.

of course, we were both ill, so it seemed funnier. i'm feeling better (but i know it's still in there), the dumpling ate a full breakfast today (it worries me when her horse-like appetite takes time off) and the queen is still down for the count, sleeping it off. you know how when you're pretty sick, it infiltrates your dreams? yeah, i don't remember them, but they've been weird. and the queen mumbled something about his dreams. i told him the pink elephants would save him, and left him a mug of tea. i am off to eat pickles now. for some reason (no, not preggers, promise) i have seriously been craving pickles. what does that mean? i have eaten half a jar recently. and i look forward to more today.

okay, time to finish that tiny writing gig, clean the bathroom and finish a letter. slowly. with pickles.