Nov
29

Day Twenty-nine.

I was hoping to get the ELVER AWARD winners up tonight, and at last count I seem to have it narrowed down to the top…23.
I know! But you all are so talented! And there were 99 comments, many with multiple entries, so 23 is certainly a start. I am hoping to finish the judging tomorrow, and next time we have a contest I respectfully request that you dial the cleverness down a notch to make my job easier.

{Also, confidential to my mother: DISQUALIFIED! You don’t need me to buy you chocolate—I have it on good authority that the streets in Switzerland are paved with cocoa.}

I think it is obvious that NaBloPoMo was a disaster this year. I sorely overestimated myself, or underestimated Simone. This is easily the most difficult stage she has gone through so far, and I am finding myself exhausted, and short on both time and temper. The poor baby wants constantly to be on the move, and is furiously frustrated by her lack of physical ability. She can sit on her own, but can’t GO anywhere from a sitting position, instead falling hard onto the foam mats we have on our living room floor. She can roll from back to front, but not the other way around, and we don’t let her scoot around on the back of her head any more because she kept running into things and hurting herself we are mean. She is quick to anger and slow to fall asleep, and when she wakes up in the night, she wants to talk and practice her squeal, which is incredibly annoying PERFECTLY NATURAL. We continually refuse to play with her at three in the morning, for obvious reasons for NO GOOD reason. You get the idea.

To be honest, at the moment I do not feel like there is any area of my life in which I am doing a particularly good job, and something has to give. I am typing this right into WordPress, and when I am finished I will simply press “publish” and be done with it—no cutting and pasting from Word, no rereading or editing. I know that normal people do this all the time, but keep in mind, I am somebody who EDITED HER OWN DIARY in high school. It is becoming obvious that perfectionism and motherhood are severely incompatible.

By Alexa | Posted in Ceci N'est Pas Une Ecrivaine |