My husband and my daughter are driving me crazy.

First, my daughter wants to learn to hula and has to listen to He Mele No Lilo--a song fron Lilo & Stitch over and over again while she pretends to hula. Second, Ryan is obsessed with "The Girl from Ipanema". He walks around singing it constantly, just loud enough for me to hear. As I type, Ryan is mixing a CD for his boss with several dozen (hundred?) versions. I try to pop in a CD to listen to some KISS or something to purge the horrible medley from my brain, but it appears that Zac is heading into a fussy phase and refuses to be put down.

And boy, is Zac growing. He laughs and smiles whenever I sing or play with him. He must weigh 15 pounds by now. But very little soothes him, except for his hands, so the apartment is in seriously bad shape. But he is so gorgeous and fun, I don't care. Katie is still madly in love with him.

What a weird week. My fridge may be dying. This, after one of us left the freezer door open last night and let two boxes of ice cream, several bags of veggies, and lots of chicken thaw out, rendering them useless. We went to the store this morning to replace all the melted food only to worry that the new food would spoil.

in the ear: "Like a Prayer" by Madonna

Dorothy died this week. Dorothy was our goldfish. She was given to Katie by her grandfather. I might not have been feeding her well enough. Dorothy lived with six or eight guppy friends, who slowly disappeared, despite the twice daily feedings.

That same day, inspired by the food network, I decided I'd try to make a new pasta dish. I went and picked up all the ingredients and when Ry came home from work, I started. I knew it was going to go badly when I melted a plastic cutting board while I boiled the pasta water. Ryan said it was good, but it wasn't even close to what Rachael Ray ended up with.

Disappointed, I got the kids ready for bed while Ryan flushed Dorothy. For her troubles while here on earth, she repaid us by causing a little backup. I kissed Katie goodnight so I could help Ryan bail out the bathroom, and she started moaning and complaining of a tummyache. I was terrified that I'd given her food poisoning and wondered how we'd handle a case of salmonella without a working toilet. But I crawled back into bed with her, only to realize that she was singing and dawdling and picking her toes--not characteristic behavior of a sick child. I'd been had, but I was too tired to be mad, so I fell asleep, too. And Ryan managed to fix the problem himself. Lucky me he's handy.

Posted by: NemesisVex at August 25, 2002 07:24 PM

Posted by: ali at August 26, 2002 10:00 PM

Posted by: Mauro at July 10, 2003 06:03 PM

Posted by: Luis Arino at September 10, 2003 07:32 AM

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