I knew that April would be a lean month on the blog because of the slightly-more-hectic photography schedule, but I don't think I understood just how exhausted we would be at the end of each day. That's me and Olive both, because Olive is confused and still thinks we are the same person most of the time.
Today was awesome because we traveled into the mountains way past Olive's bedtime, but this time it was for the purposes of standing in front of the lens! We were helping out a photographer who just moved to town and wanted to add some mountainy shots to her portfolio. And by help I actually mean that we got to sit and enjoy the view all wrapped up in blankets (well, Olive, not me) and later we'll get to own some professional photos. Of US!! Of Olive and I! It wasn't relaxing, per se, because there was damn near a hurricane up there, but it was all pretty spectacular.
Today was also a horrible day, the worst of Olive's young life. Up until today she'd been under the impression that all of life was soft and wonderful, always, and the only thing to ever hurt was when her dad attempted to cut her fingernails, which he only ever tried twice because of the blood. Today she learned that life is not such a sweet bargain after all. She fell off the bed. That's right, she just plopped right off.
She wasn't hurt, she was scared. The fear soon turned to anger, and the anger soon festered into ire. She screamed and howled for the rest of the day. It was the first time EVER in 6.5 months that she screamed like that, and it was also the first time that I couldn't immediately console her. Of course I tried everything- I even let her play with the keyboard on my computer which she's been wanting to do for 6.5 months.
At one point I had her in a warm bath, pouring warm water onto her shoulders out of her tugboat toy, singing Glory Glory Hallelujah along with Joni Mitchell on the radio and I, too, was naked, to increase the chances of soothing skin-on-skin time. She'd grow quiet and distracted for a bit but then you could see her little brain go - 'wait, I was mad about something! What was it- oh that's right GROSS NEGLECT and GRAVITY.'
She got quiet for book time before each nap, sucking dutifully at her lobster and studying the pictures. Then she'd sleep well and peacefully, and I would reckon the whole thing to be over, how could she possibly remember after a nap?! But then she'd wake up very cross and start yelling at me when I walked int he room. She was JUST SO MAD. At ME. And then I had to sit her down in the evening and say, "Would you like to go for a long drive, stay up past your bedtime, sit on a rock on the top of a mountain, be exposed to the elements and smile for the camera?" Because I am the worst.
The photoshoot did give me the excuse to drive over to Abby's house, take her hair dryer from her, and then use it upon my head. I am pleased with the results. And then a small person wept tears and spit grape tylenol into my fun beachy waves, and they were never seen or heard from again.
I accept that I'm the worst. God I felt guilty. If that tone is not coming across through this post its because sheer exhaustion has zapped me of human decency. David's been out of the country for a few days (he's coming home tonight) and there's been so much going on, she has teeth coming in and suddenly she's eating food and she's always pooping and the neighbor has a new dog that she's trying to 'train' by tying it to a post and hollering at it and the insidious cacophony of the alleyway is wearing at me.
I also made a roast today, by the way. It's dry.
