I don’t think my husband has any idea what it takes to get an infant to sleep at night. If he did, then surely he would stop coming into her room while I am in the throes of nursing and rocking her down and ask me where the flashlight is because the dude from AT&T shut off his phone line into his office. Emergency? Not to me, but than again what I think qualifies as an emergency confounds my husband. Things like… the mailman is always here at 2 in the afternoon, and now it’s 4:30 and he still hasn’t come by. Now THAT is an emergency. Because if he’s that late, than I’ve lost my Thursday afternoon window to read the newest issue of US magazine, my guilty pleasure. Nevertheless, even when the mailman did show up, he was without my US magazine. Again, it looks like it’s going to be a day late. Another emergency, in my little world.

What we did receive in today’s mail was a really cool book I’d ordered a while ago for Pea. It’s called Scribble and it’s so sweet and clever and she has been dragging it around in the little bucket on the back of her new pink & purple tricycle that we bought her a couple of days ago. Every time she passed me, she’d hurl it at me and say “ree-ree!”

I also received my Child perfume oil which I must say rocks. I have never smelled anything quite like it. I’ve never been much of a perfume gal, with the exception of a run with a fragrance that until only recently could only be found on the island of Capri. It smelled like lemons and I felt squeaky clean when I wore it. But now, you can get it easily here in the states, so it’s specialness has worn off. Oh, and then there was the love affair with a scent from Jo Malone, which you could only get if you went to her little shop in London. And then she opened up a shop close to my neighborhood in NYC (years ago), and it was once again a love affair that was not meant to be. But in general, I don’t consider myself a perfume wearer. The scent I’ve been loyal to since my college days is Egyptian Musk. You can get it from any street vendor in NYC and it costs about $4 for a roll-on bottle and the smell was pure heaven to me. But during the first trimester of my last pregnancy, I made the mistake of rolling some onto my wrists. I knew better. I was at the height of my nausea. But I threw caution to the wind and now… the 15-year relationship with my Egyptian Musk is over. For good. I’ll never forget that day. For hours, I had this really odd sensation that the hairs in my nose were on fire. I had no idea what it was. And then, I put my hand up to my face to push some hair out of my eyes, and it hit me… the scent hit me like a bag of bricks in the face. And that was it. I have not worn anything stronger than the faintly lingering odor of soap since. But I wanted to give Child a try, and I’m so glad that I did. Highly recommended! (Also comes in a perfume form, for fancy ladies.)

And so, I forgive our mailman. He may not have delivered my US magazine, but he did deliver.

And then we had peanut-butter-hot-
fudge fondue for dessert.
Yum.