Those Feisty Ides

I managed to make it through today without any blatant backstabbings, well, at least any readily apparent backstabbings and that's good enough for me. It's much easier to avoid coups and mutinies outside the office, away from the theatre folk and no longer on any synagogue committees. Despina did have a murderous gleam in her eye but I managed to quell it with a packet of ocean fish & tuna in broth. If only the Romans were so appeasable.

I've been a quiet type lately, haven't I? How peculiar. I wish I could report momentous goings on but we've just been mucking about. The wee one is adorable and is transitioning to sit up on her own -- and loves showing off this new skill -- on her right side and almost on her left. I asked Evette if we were "normal" parents with a "typical" child (I'm waxing all quotalicious) would we even notice or care that she always sat up on one side. She said that many children do one-sided skills (always roll to one side, always stand with their the same leg first, etc.) and their parents never notice, but this can really affect coordination later on. Yelena may be taking an eon to master these skills, but her form is impeccable. Tortoises of the world unite! She is also finally staying in quadraped for a while and doing much assisted crawling, but she would much rather butt scoot or practice walking. Her receptive language is growing and she's vocalizing more in play, with a few additional words which she uses intermittently. Before swim last week, one of her classmates toddled up to her in the locker room and Yelena looked at her and, with a huge smile, said, "Hi!" Such a charmer.

I'll post some pictures in the near future.

We had a neurologist appointment Monday, but I am so not in the mood to write about it. It will have to wait.

We are terrible Jews and negligent parents and did not end up taking Yelena to any Purim festivities. I didn't want to deal with the late bedtime Erev Purim and, when it came time to take her Sunday morning to the family Megillah reading I decided to make waffles instead. Baaaaad Mommy, selfish Mommy.

Self-sufficiency is the name of the game for the adults around here this week. Eli fixed our leaky disposal and I fixed the pop-up drain in the upstairs loo. I now know what a clevis rod is. As I gathered up our tax documents to send to the accountant it occurred to me that I have underwritten $50 million loans, I could probably handle our measly tax return. And I did. All filed. All happy.

We also bought a to-be delivered TV. It's big. Not Lawrence of Arabia sunrise big, but pretty friggin' big. Eli wanted bigger, but I capped him at 56". It's the JVC rear projection thingie with lots of pixels and other good stuff. It will be refreshing not to squint at subtitles or credits.

Because we don't have enough to do, we've started watching 24. Netflix can't keep up with our jonesing.

Hail Caesar.

No whiskers on kittens or warm woolen mittens here

I need a good gripe.

• About a decade ago, during the dark Luddite ages before I owned a proper ice cream maker, I once made granita. I think it was coffee granita. Every few hours I opened up the freezer, took out the baking pan and scraped away at the layers of ice. Shoveling the walk yesterday was just like that, except on a grand, aerobic scale. Under the wet dog pee slushie, the ice had ice. There were only a couple inches, but it was damn heavy. Stupid snow.
• People are crappy drivers in the snow. I have adopted Tony's advice of what to do when another car is coming the opposite way down a narrow street. I swing over into their lane heading straight at them, forcing them to move their frigging SUV over. It works. And I like to see the terrified looks on their faces, "Oh my God, I'm going to hit the Camry if I don't actually learn how to control this gas guzzling behemoth." Stupid SUV drivers.
• I can't wait until the damn municipal election is over. Everyday we average 3 phone calls and 6 pieces of literature. Stupid aldermen.
• Couldn't they just have given Scorsese a lifetime achievement award, rather than naming The Departed the best picture of the year? At least it's better than much of the winning crap in recent years. (Crash, Chicago [yeah, I love a dance musical where you can't see any of the actors dance -- oh wait, that's because they can't dance], Titanic, Forrest Gump, suck suck suck.) The divine Helen Mirren and Forrest Whitaker are 2 of my favorite actors, so there was happiness there. The Oscars are mostly an excuse to order from Pizza Bubamara (no one makes a pizza like the Bosnians), pick up a tart from Bittersweet, hang out and get tipsy on champers. I even had a wee hang-over this morning. Stupid Oscars.
• I make fun of the goyim for having Christmas decorations out before Thanksgiving. Can we make a new rule? No Passover shit in the stores until after Purim. The Jewel on Howard has already converted an aisle into Kosher for Passover. Bloody hell, I haven't even made my hamentashen yet. Stupid Passover. Stupid greedy mashgiach mafia.
• Theo is moaning right now as he tries to hump Cherubino. With his mouth on Cheru's neck, his castrated nether regions only reach midway down Cheru's back. Stupid orange tabby.

I feel so much better now.

Snow days

All thawed out here. Last week I became one of those people for whom I have nothing but contempt. Yes, I am one of those selfish bastards who barricaded a parking space. According to Chicago ordinance it is legal, if not ethical. I was going to the opera last Tuesday. After shoveling a foot or so of snow away from the car I just couldn't deal with coming home at midnight and searching for a space, blocks away, and then carrying Yelena there the following morning. (As soon as this weather is finished, we're paving the private alley and the parking search shall be a thing of the past.) When it drops below 10 and the snow reaches higher than a pair of go-go boots I am allowed to rationalize.

Freaky orange tabby. I am typing this while waiting for Eli to get back from yoga. I just squeezed lemon for our dinner (pasta with tuna packed in olive oil, kalamata olives, capers, garlic and said lemon) and Theo is in a citrus induced madness. I must have gotten some on my fleece as he is licking it obsessively. You think he'd be into the tuna, mais non. I could hire him out for a lemony exfoliation treatment and earn enough to put him on the Prozac he so desperately needs. Oh, it tickles!