Tuesday, January 02, 2007

Silver Boots and Broken Hearts


I know these ballet slippers are not silver boots. They're still on my wish-list. I wouldn't turn down silver boots, either.



Lucia was grouchy all day today. "You don't play guitar! You don't sing!" she said in her most imperious toddler voice. I asked, "Do I have to sequester myself in my room in order to practice guitar?" and she said, "You don't sequester!"

Today was Lucia's first day of group speech therapy, and tomorrow, her new schedule with Plum Creek School begins. I am glad for it. It's lovely to miss my daughter for a few hours and then see her. It's much more pleasant than wishing fervently that everyone in the world would leave me alone for five lousy minutes. If I don't make sure to get little pockets of time to myself, my brains addle like runny scrambled eggs.

Tonight, Lucia requested I sing, "sad songs about the big silver boots and broken hearts."* I started out with "I Know Where I'm Going" and "I Am A Maid of Constant Sorrow." Then, I started ad-libbing about the woes and tribulations of brushing teeth and donning pajamas for bed. I ended with a full-throated lament about how no one understands the hard times of children under 5. The sad songs cheered her up. Bede said, "Oh no! Our daughter is going to become a country-western singer." I just hope Lucia takes after Diana Jones more than Shania Twain.**





*For the literary context of this request, read Mr. Putter and Tabby Toot the Horn, by Cynthia Rylant.

**Okay, okay,
"Man! I Feel Like a Woman!" is one of my guilty pleasures. You can take that piece of information and use it for extortion purposes later on, after I become famous for my pithy ditties about superheroes and tricycle races. I still don't want my daughter parading around in sequinned brassieres and stiletto heels, thanks.

7 comments:

Lady K said...

I know where you're coming from, needing pockets of time to yourself. I get the same way when I can't get 5 minutes of "me time" here and there.

Those shoes are adorable!

Nonnyhatesbeta said...

I am now on a quest to find you some silver boots.

I'm glad you said that about Lucia going to school and giving you a break. Sometimes I feel guilty because I want to go to work just to get away for a few hours. Parenting is hard-period.

Lone Star Ma said...

I think that is why the idea of part-time work is so attractive to mothers when they are polled. Full-time work really sucks when raising kids, but staying home alone with them all day, every day is maddening, too, at times (or so I've heard).

Lovely slippers.

I bet the speech therapist doesn't encounter a lot of three year olds who use the word "sequester".

BlueMamma said...

ah, see, now this is why i'm loving my voice lessons so much. twenty minutes drive either way, and an hour in which it's all about me. aaahhhhhh...

limpy99 said...

I'm rooting for your daughter to follow Lucinda Williams's path myself. And if she's busting out words like "sequester", she could be well on her way.

Alkelda the Gleeful said...

Man, as much as I try to justify the purchase of the silver ballet slippers, I just can't without a specific occasion. If anyone has any ideas (for justification), please let me know. I already have pairs of red suede shoes, green suede shoes, buttery black flats, hiking boots, black ballet slippers.... somewhere in my near future has got to be some rationale for getting silver ballet slippers. And silver boots, too, rah rah. Maybe when I participate in the ABBA Invitationals?

Lone Star Ma said...

They are Storyteller Shoes. If you are going to launch your career in earnest, they are a necessary investment. Necessary. All Storytellers have them.

I don't know about the boots - unless you are going to tell stories in space.