Can’t give em away….
Little Rosie Toes,
How I love you and your pox scabbed face. But you. are driving me. insane. Because our lives have turned upside down a bit with illness after illness and because deadlines for daddy’s albums are upon us, we are a bit out of sorts in our attitudes and demeanor. I am tired and ill and nobody takes care of a mama when a mama is sick. The only person who does a decent job of it is my mama who is now too old and stuck in a blizzard in NY. And daddy, though relatively good at it most of the time, is not doing his job because he has been locked in the recording studio now for 1 week straight until 4am every night and seems to find a way to stay in bed until 9am every morning. And because you haven’t seen much of him this week and miss his unwavering attention and constant playing and because I haven’t seen him either, and he’s not rubbing my feet and kissing my big bootie, you and I both have been royal beeeeee-yatches. You think it’s totally funny, in a rather scary way, to be an utter naughty little fairy. I can see your black webbed wings, ripped up tights and purple mohawk and I can hear that naughty fairy cackle. You don’t fool me, little Fae. Not one bit. I am taking to growling and chugging cough syrup because I don’t know what else to do when you slam doors, throw books, and pinch the dog and your sister. Hard. But because you are so cute, and can now scooter one-legged in an arabesque and have taken on saying the phrases, “let’s just chill on the couch” and “no worries” and you call everyone (even the Target check-out man) “Daaaarlink” with a nice southern drawl, and tell me I have goddess princess eyes, I guess I will keep you. But please, oh please, let this phase past. Terror. You have been a holy terror.
And you. You Miss. Pearly-Girl.
You want nothing more than to learn the ropes like your super-star Mia. As much as you are your own person, she puts you in awe and I can see you quietly taking notes on how to be the kind of three-year old that makes mamas face sag and hear gray. I am going to run away. Run far, far away. You are lucky you speak with that accent that none of can place…a bit African, a bit Warton era New York, a bit homegirl, I can’t help but want to gobble you up. I am reminded of this: your will, your leadership, your lioness strength will undoubtedly serve you later in life.
I love you both. I’d never trade you in for quiet, shy, complacent children ever. Not ever. But maybe you can pretend for just one day. Maybe?
we are so, so in the same mindspace these days! Although I was considering eBay specifically…
Thank goodness these episodes are just that - episodes. Here’s to getting our mother-mojo back sooner rather than later!
Comment by kate — February 11, 2007 @ 11:33 am
Girl, you had me rolling with laughter inside in that “oh-so-is-so-funny-but-really-not-i’m-so-sorry-my-friend” kind of way. Then I realize what lies ahead for me!
Soon, very soon…
I sooo want to come help take care of the sick mama but I’m quarrantined from your place.
XOXO
Comment by Leigh — February 12, 2007 @ 4:15 am
oh inspiring goddess… i will be there in a week and i will kiss your fanny and tickle your toes… make you butterscotch pudding, serve you hot toddies, and spoon you like a pro!
and i will try and show mia the ways of a good fey although my nefarious wings have been showing as of late too so maybe we can help each other : P
Comment by e — February 12, 2007 @ 6:39 pm
Oh misplaced goddess, your highnes, I am ready to serve your sweetness in LA next weekend. But are you ok to come? Is it making things worse for you? How are you feeling? We can be real mellow and just “chill on the couch” with some wine and diva dish. But just say the word, fairy mary.
Comment by Courtney — February 13, 2007 @ 3:43 am