Duets

Ever since Gumball was a little, tiny chicklet, I've been singing Twinkle, Twinkle and then Rock-a-Bye Baby before putting her to bed. For the past couple of months, it's been a duet. Of sorts. In fact, she tries to sing over me and drown out my voice with her own. It's so sweet, and tender, and funny, that my heart melts.

Gumball is heart-meltingly sweet, and incredibly intelligent. She speaks in sentences, all the time, and I'm not the only person who can understand these sentences. She's also learned how to manipulate me into doing her bidding. It's pretty easy, as anyone who knows me can attest. Gumball will come up to me, and say, "hold me like a little, tiny baby." Who could refuse that? It gets a little tiresome sometimes, like when I have to carry her up and down the stairs "like a little, tiny baby." When she is completely capable of walking both up, and down, the stairs, on her own.

She's quite an independent, headstrong, willful little kid. If you were to tell her this, however, she would insist, "NO KID. I'm a monkey." Or, "I'm a kittycat." When I thank her for doing something well, and tell her, "What a smart girl, Gumball," she will say, "NO SMART GIRL. I'm a smart BABY."

This kid. I never imagined being so fascinated, enchanted and delighted by anything ever.

September 2012

I haven't been posting too much for a reason. I linked to this blog from my Instagram account, and then became paranoid about who would see what. Then I remembered: no one cares. I don't mean that in some melodramatic, teenage, hair-tossing sort of way, simply that everyone's lives are so full and busy that my blog doesn't really factor in too much.

Also? I was keeping a secret. This summer I fell in love. And, just like that, I fell out of love.

She is a lovely, kind, and very sweet person. Apparently, I need more than that. There was more to it than that, though. I didn't feel like she cared enough about me to truly get to know me. To ask me questions about me. Instead, she made assumptions and projected them on me. I also didn't feel appreciated. I would go out of my way to cook elaborate dinners, to buy thoughtful gifts, and to do things to please her, and these actions were rarely reciprocated, and even less frequently praised.

She didn't cheat on me, lie to me, or leave me, but things weren't right.

Am I going to be alone forever? I hope not.