Wednesday, March 09, 2005

Em and Hmmm and Mmmmmmmmmm

A couple weeks ago (last week or maybe the week before?) Celti asked me on the phone and someone else asked me in comments how Emily was handling my surgery. I didn’t really answer ‘cause I wasn’t sure how to answer. I’ve been thinking about it since then though and paying attention to how she’s acting.

I went into the hospital early on Tuesday morning, four weeks ago now—my roommate took Em into daycare; at the end of the day, Eric picked her up and brought her to visit me. It was a little awkward, but I’m glad she was able to see me. Then he took her home (my home) for bedtime.

The plan was to have mom take her to daycare Wednesday and have Eric pick her up there again for a long weekend, but I was released first thing Wednesday morning, so I called my mom and suggested she & Em come together to pick me up. They did, we all went home together, then around 4:30 or so Eric came to get her.

We talked on the phone Thursday. She seemed fine. We talked on the phone again Friday and she was darn near the edge of a nervous breakdown. A four year old on the verge—that’s a very sad thing. I asked to speak to Eric and then I suggested he bring her home the next day, a day early, because neither she nor I were willing to spend another night without each other. I missed my little jewel so much.

So Eric brought Emily home on Saturday. It was late at night and she was already asleep, but that meant we had all day Sunday to be together. In about the middle of the day on Sunday she looked at me asked “Will you ever hold me like you used to?” It was about the saddest thing I’d ever heard.

In the following week, Emily started acting out in a number of ways—everything from not listening/minding to talking back to asking for a diaper instead of using the toilet.

Kate & her kids came up the week after my surgery and she noticed Em’s poor behavior, too. On the plus side, since they were here, Em didn’t have to go to daycare. That was a good thing.

Many days seem to blend into each other, and I’ve forgotten now the exact sequence of events, but it was either the day before Kate & her kids arrived or a few days after they left that I decided to withdraw Emily from her daycare.

She’s been there since she was 11 weeks old. I just realized that somewhere along the way she became the oldest kid and she was bored out of her head.

(Aside: I find it very disturbing that her behavior got so bad, that she was so bored at daycare and I didn’t have a clue, and that she seemed to be having such a hard time dealing with my surgery. I know that a big part of the behavior thing was because I wasn’t wholly available to her emotionally and very much distant physically, but it still bothers me quite a bit.)

Anyway—to cut to the chase, Emily started Pre-K program last week and she loves it! In only seven days of school, she has already learned more than I could have imagined. Last night she said, “Mommy, remember when you went to spend the night at the hopsidal and then you came home and couldn’t hold me? Now you can, and now you can carry me all the way to my new school, huh?!” It was darling.

For her first day of school, I made her this:

She took it with her for naptimes every day, and she loves having “a part of mommy’s sewing” with her.


I realized this morning that my car looks like utter shit. The clear-coat on the roof is peeling off. When clear-coat peels off black paint, it looks horrid. Oh yeah, and the trim on the side of my car has started falling off. On the driver’s side, one whole section is missing, and another is deeply bent. It’s awful. I’m still paying on this fucking thing, it shouldn’t look like a hood-mobile yet and that bums me out.


Our girl Veronica is having surgery today. Her comments are closed right now, so I’m not linking you over there. She’s scared and I don’t blame her. Please send a prayer or healing energy or happy thoughts or whatever it is you do over her direction even if you don’t know who she is. Thanks.


I have fallen hopelessly, desperately, deeply in love. I can’t stop thinking about this man’s beautiful eyes, luscious lips (I want to nibble on them), gorgeous thighs, and fantastic sense of humor (the surest way to my heart). Add to these the fact that he has a well-acknowledged feminine side (mmmmmm), a fabulous accent, and is so self-possessed that he doesn’t shy away from criticism and you’ll see that he is, in fact, the PERFECT man for me.

dress to kill

definite article



I am so in love....