So Who Is Really In Charge?

Claire and I spend a lot of time together during the day. Maybe too much time. A recent conversation went something like this:

C: "Babies" (standing next to the computer and indicating that she wants to watch the dancing babies video on Noggin)
Me: "Diaper" (sitting on the floor next to her changing pad and fresh diaper indicating that it is time for her to cooperate with having her diaper changed)

C: Babies
Me: Diaper

C: (whispered) Babies
Me: (whispered) Diaper

C: Baaaabeeees (if I speak more slowly and point then mama will understand)
Me: Diiiiiiapeeeerrr (if I hold up the diaper then baby will understand)

C: Babies
Me: Diaper

C: (with that high-pitched toddler squeal) Babeeeeeees!
Me: (wincing from my bleeding eardrums) Diapeeeerrrrr!

Finally, after a few more rounds of tense negotiations, Claire consented to writhe around on the floor and protestingly grimace and grunt while I wrestled her into another diaper.

And sometimes I wonder why I'm so tired by the end of the day.

Time for a Change

I changed the title of this blog last night, so today is the official launch of "Smarty Pants". You'll notice, though, that the address is actually "smartypantsmom" because just "smartypants" was already taken.

I told Bodie that I felt that the internet was stifling my originality by not letting me duplicate URLs. After all, I'm sure my "Smarty Pants" is much better than that other smarty pants. He said there is plenty of room for originality on the internet, you just have to be original. And not suck.

So now I'm focusing on the not sucking part. I feel the title change is a good start. You may remember the former Literary Luminary...what a pretentious piece of shit that title was. Please let me blame it on the postpartum depression and my desperate need to feel connected to the outside world. The new, improved Smarty Pants (with the litlum address still attached since I can't seem to figure out how to change that) promises to leave the soapbox in the closet most of the time...it can keep those frickin' fleas company.

The Bane of My Existence

Actually, there are several banes of my existence right now, each of them equally annoying. I suppose if I had to rank them right now they would go something like this...

1. Fleas. Yes, fleas, in my apartment, on my daughter's stuffed chicken, in the laundry basket, and driving me quietly insane. I think the neighbors think that I'm a psychotic vacuuming freak because I vacuum so much now that the carpet is screaming for mercy. Oh, and did I mention that we don't own a pet? We've never owned a pet. In fact, I wanted to get a hamster and Bodie said no. We had a baby instead. Babies don't get fleas. I curse the rat bastards who left their marvelous flea infestation in our carpeting as I scour the baseboards and change out the vacuum bag yet again.

2. Location, location, location. My classroom is located immediately adjacent to the boys' restroom, the playground, and the exterior hall doors. The same exterior hall doors that are constantly being left open so that the musical sound of children's laughter can infiltrate my cozy corner and remind me that the 1st and 2nd graders are playing in the bathrooms...again...for the third time this week.

3. Moving. We left Eugene in February, meandered through McFarland, had an extended stay in San Diego, and finally returned to the safety of the Redwood Curtain in July. The "we" in this story is actually me, Bodie, Claire, and as much of our belongings as can be stuffed into a 2004 Corolla. All of the other miscellaneous items that make up a fully-stocked two bedroom apartment for two twenty-somethings and a baby? Don't worry, they're all safe and sound in a storage unit. In Eugene. And it's November.