Lesson One: Technology = Getting Slapped in the Balls
So if Murphy wrote laws specifically designed for blogs, I bet one of them would be “When you finally decide to publicly announce that you’re spilling your inner musings onto a web page, when you’ve mustered the courage to offer up your tender inner vulnerable core of feelings to the world, when you throw caution and fear of judgment to the wind and throw open the gates to your private mind…. you will inadvertently install a WordPress update that ruins your custom theme and makes your blog look like a piece of poo that’s been sitting out in the elements for two weeks.”
So high five there for me! The format of the blog has been fixed, although I will continue to tweak it back to how it was. But it is once again legible, so I’m ahead of where I was yesterday.
Lesson Two: Ironic Sex Toys Save Bedtime
Once many years ago, my mom bought me riding crop as a joke. I sadly cannot even remember the exact circumstances under which this happened, but I’m certain it either had to do with me being a bitch or my mom trying to get me to be a bitch. Believe it or not I used to have a problem with timidity. Anyway, point is, I own a riding crop that has never been used for anything other than making cleaning people and movers feel uncomfortable as they pick it up and relocate it while they do their respective jobs. It’s one of those things that I keep thinking to myself, man, I should throw that away. And then I go about my life and promptly forget all about it.
Last night, L was super overtired and grumping to an unusual degree about falling asleep. She has been refusing to sleep in her room since we moved into the new house, and as such has been sleeping with us for the last three weeks or so. This is really the only thing she has had any trouble adjusting to with all the massive changes recently, so we are giving her the time to work through things. But, last night, she was literally flailing her exhausted little limbs around with frustration about bedtime. And then at one point, she pitched her binky behind the bed.
These binkies are the Kong of the toddler world – they are a higher level of indestructible than the average bink, as cutting molars leads to a lot of vigorous and destructive chewing. As such they are more expensive. So I don’t own a billion of them like I did of her other binks. However, I did have a spare on my night stand, so I handed her the other bink, and prayed I’d remember to retrieve the exiled bink from behind the headboard in the morning. She rejected this new bink, and cried for the other one. So, thinking I was super clever, I took the new bink, got down on the ground next to the bed, and happily popped up a few seconds later proclaiming “found it!” I handed her the bink – no dice. She totally knew I was totally faking and she was totally not having it. She cried harder and demanded her original bink back again. I turned on the light and looked under the bed. The bink had landed in the wasteland of the under the bed space that I can’t reach from either side. Because life.
So, I cast about for a way to retrieve the bink without having to move the bed… and thought of my good ol’ riding crop. Turns out it is the perfect tool for retrieving binkies from underneath king sized beds. In fact I am surprised that isn’t their slogan. “Riding Crops: Giddy Up Little Binky!”
(I just had to google how to spell giddy up. THANKS BRAIN.)