Thursday, August 10, 2006


I'm convinced that the idea of karma has at least some merit. Julia was always the baby who needed absolutely constant attention every single second of every day--no playing alone on a mat with toys for her, thank you very much! Did you look away from her for a second, to, say, feed yourself? How dare you! She will now cry. Walk out of the room to answer the phone? Cry. Do anything at all other than give her every ounce of your energy and being at every moment? Cry.

But now, you know, she's two years old, and for months, this is how we do my morning routine. I take a bath, with the door open, and she helps a little bit (throws my sponge in, lays the bathmat down), watches a little bit (LOVES to watch me shave), and then mostly goes and stands at my bed, leafing through a few Pottery Barn Kids catalogs I keep by my bedside, "reading manga-zines" while I finish, get out, dry off, get dressed, brush my hair, maybe even put on a little make-up if I'm feeling especially fastidious. Sometimes she'll come toddling in and out a few times to check on my progress, but generally she's content to peruse catalogs quietly nearby while I go about my entire a.m. routine, even on days I move slowly (meaning, every day right now). It makes me chuckle to remember the early infant days when I had to put her in her bouncey seat, drag it into our tiny bathroom, and then take the fastest bath possible---this is on the rare days I even GOT to bathe---before resuming the crazy-baby-schedule.

I had this coming.

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