How I'm Feeling Lately

Angry-misunderstood, angry-exhausted, angry-frustrated, angry-overwhelmed, angry-isolated, angry-angry. Just angry.

Bear with me while I look for something to smack with this rolling pin.

Good Girl

I Photoshopped this picture to make it look as though Flea has a halo. In truth, she has no such thing, literally or metaphorically. She's a lover of mischief.

Case in point: yesterday when my back was turned she climbed on the couch and stood up. She knows she's not supposed to stand on the furniture. Now, an ordinary toddler routinely forgets and breaks the rules, or fails to internalize them in the first place, but Flea knows the rules, breaks them wilfully, and gets great satisfaction out of showing me. All was quiet, so I turned around to check on her, and found her standing there, unmoving, a big grin on her face, just waiting for me to see her and say, "Fia, SIT DOWN PLEASE." It was clear that she was just going to stand quietly until I saw her. In other words, she wasn't standing because she wanted to stand, she was standing because she wanted to stand because I told her not to stand.

Do we really get such satisfaction out of disobedience so early in life? As a parent I find this need to establish separateness both exasperating and exhilarating, as though the human drive to establish boundaries--"YOU end there, I start HERE"--is inborn and therefore good and right. I want my kid to define herself as an individual. At the same time, I want her skull to remain intact and my furniture footprint-free. So whenever she asserts her independence in this manner I do my best to keep my expression neutral while I smile inwardly and think--because I too am rebellious and parents are not supposed to say it out loud--good girl.

And so the pendulum swings...

...from this (the "Brazilian" jean with the 1" zipper):

...to this:

Friends, I don't even know how to process that picture. What is that, a 16-inch rise? Any higher and it should come with underwire support. Good lord above, you'd be spending the first 5 minutes of your bathroom break just getting the zipper down. And those are some deep pockets. No need to fold your dollar bills.

No wonder I can't find a @$#! pair of jeans that fits.

(If you know where I can buy decent-looking jeans with a 36" inseam and 9" rise, I beg of you, respond.)