Tuesday, May 6, 2008

I Have Nothing To Say

It's true. I'm out of ideas. The boy has started with these lengthy naps, leaving me all the time in the world for writing posts, and I can't think of a damned thing to write about. So here are some random short things that have been preying on my mind:

1) The other day at the gas station, there was a sudden hullabaloo of guys shouting and running. I looked, and a gas tanker truck was whipping out of the station with a station worker still on top. The driver didn't know he was there. The hullabaloo died down, and BE had a good giggle about it with the guy pumping our gas. It was funny, but I was also afraid the tanker was headed for the freeway with the guy on top. I watched for a few minutes, and pretty soon the guy from the top of the truck came back. He was swaggering and grinning and looking around waiting for everyone to give him a triumphant welcome, but everyone had forgotten him by then. He slunk off into an office. I should say something snide here about the Turkish attention span. I guess I just did.

2) I continue to be uncomfortable leaving LE with the MIL for babysitting. She's just too scatterbrained. Really, I would love to leave him with someone every now and again, but BE thinks I won't leave him with MIL because I don't like her and that I'm just martyring myself to this end (he also refuses to get a sitter, as MIL would get wind of it and get her nose all out of joint). This weekend at their house, LE followed her into the kitchen. After a few moments I heard silence from the kitchen, and the sound of clinking teacups. This was not good. When MIL is silent around LE, it means she's not looking at him, because when she's looking at him, there is a stream of bone-hurting, high-pitched baby talk coming from her mouth. And when LE is silent, it usually means he's up to no good. I couldn't stand it and went to the kitchen to peek. MIL was preparing a tea tray and LE was happily unloading the contents of the lentil-rice-beans cupboard. When I walked in, he had just picked up a giant glass jar of sugar cubes and was preparing to to hurl it to the ground in front of him. I jumped at him, which made MIL jump at him screeching, and in her panic she tripped and almost fell on him. Without a word, I picked him up and took him from the kitchen. BE saw the dark look on my face, but refused to accept this event as evidence that his mother doesn't keep a good eye on the baby.

3) Turkish people have this thing about kids and jealousy. I don't care for it. Whenever a bigger kid gets a new sibling, or is around a smaller kid, everyone starts going, 'He's jealous, he's jealous,' and attributes everything the bigger kid does to jealousy. I think that even if the bigger kid wasn't jealous to begin with, he's sure to become jealous because everyone is saying so, especially because he will soon realize that all bad behavior is sanctioned by his being jealous. MIL's neighbor has a new baby and an 18-month old boy. This boy now appears to be very disliked by all because he is very 'bad' due to his extreme jealousy. One very 'bad' thing he did was when his mother accidentally fell asleep with the baby in his basket and the toddler on the loose. The toddler went to the baby, gave him his bottle, and unzipped his pajamas. His mother awoke to the toddler rocking the baby in his basket. 'It was a disaster,' said my MIL. 'D is very bad because he's jealous.' Which is weird because it seemed to me the toddler was just being curious and doing some nurturing things to the baby that he'd seen his mother doing. Poor bad D came over while we were there. He and LE started pushing each other and giggling. MIL screamed at D so loud for pushing that LE's lip trembled as he got ready to cry. They started pushing each other again. LE fell over giggling and MIL yanked D away, telling him how naughty he was and telling everyone else how jealous he was. Then D banged the hell out of his head on the table, and looked around for a reaction, ready to cry. I asked him if he was okay and kissed his head. MIL said, 'Oh, he's used to it. He's very bad, the little thug.' Seconds later, LE lightly bumped the side of his head on the sofa and she scurried over, swooped him up, smothered him with kisses and sympathy, and started hitting the sofa, telling LE the sofa was very bad for hurting him. Just in case D wasn't feeling jealous enough yet...

4) LE has invented a little game in which he comes up to you like he wants to be held, then runs away. It's a very good game. This morning we were playing it, and he fell and bashed his face on the edge of the credenza, splitting his lip. Poor guy. It's the worst thing ever when the kid is giggling and squealing with pure baby joy and then hurts himself. His sweet little lip looks like a grape, plus there's a red line of a forming bruise from his nose to his chin.

5) The weather's cleared up today but I'm afraid to leave the house. One reason is because my key has randomly stopped working in the door. BE came home and rescued me yesterday (he'd just dropped us off). There's a good chance I was turning the key the wrong way. I've been known to be an idiot like that. The other reason I'm afraid to leave the house is that two people have gotten trapped in the elevator in the last twelve hours. I can hear them ringing the bell and shouting helplessly. I sure as hell don't want to be the third person trapped in there, with LE and the stroller, and with my luck, having to pee. But I'm also unwilling to climb seven flights of stairs with the baby, even if I leave the stroller in the foyer. So at the moment I'm balancing this fear with my guilt about LE not having gotten to go outside since Sunday (it was raining yesterday) and my desire to have him sleep better at night after having had a good run during the day.

A lot of words about nothing. I am fomenting a couple of weightier posts, and debating fomenting a third. Until then, it's back to this great time-wasting game I've discovered.

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