Whoa. Over 2 months since the last post. It’s been busy over here in the Wood Paneled Station Wagon. Much to the Little Pirate’s dismay, the First Mate arrived on July 8. We made it to the hospital with just minutes to spare, the First Mate almost making her appearance in an ambulance on the side of the road in Dupont Circle. At 21st and P to be exact.

In addition to the laboring and delivering of said First Mate, Cool Dad and I are also renovating our new house – a feat requiring deep pockets, tons of patience, and 48 hour days. Now sleep deprived and poor, Cool Dad and I are ready to outsource the raising of the Little Pirate and First Mate to anyone who fills out an application.

So the Little Pirate. She’s really gotten quite jealous which manifests itself in total destruction. She’ll be fine just sitting there popping grapes into her mouth. Then something will prompt her to stand up, walk across the room, pick up the foot stool and throw it across the room. Angry. Very angry. Sorry Little Pirate, but the First Mate is here to stay.

The defiance knows no bounds. We just cannot get this child to cooperate at all with us. About a week ago, we all realized that if we tell her to do the opposite then we can get her to do what we want.
“Come here litte pirate, turkey for dinner!”
NO!
“Ok, fine, don’t eat that turkey! Don’t do it!”
Down the trap.

This would be fine except these conversations don’t all happen in the privacy of our overcrowded condo where we are still living because the renovations from hell aren’t close to complete yet. No, they happen in public. There I am, on the sidewalk, with a baby in one hand and the dog in the other, and a Pirate about to run out in the street and if I yell “Stop! Don’t go in the street,” then she’s a goner. So I have to yell, “I want you to run into the street! Do it, run in the street!” so that she won’t. Well, it really raises an eyebrow or four.

Life moves in reverse now. I’m always worse off today than I was yesterday because life with the Pirate seems to move backward. I pack a box to go to the new house and the Pirate unpacks it. I fix some food for us to eat and the Pirate dumps the plates over. I take clothes out to put on and the Pirate throws them in the washing machine. It’s just exhausting. I’ve actually never felt this busy in my life between the Pirate crew, the house renovations and work. And back to that parental outsourcing idea…

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