wondering, cold water

I wake Oona every morning with a bottle -- first I pick her up for a cuddle and then set her back in her crib propped against a pillow, and she waves me off and I say drink your bottle and then I go back downstairs to make my lunch.



But the last few days she's been doing this thing where she wants cold wa-der, cold wa-der run over the bottle -- because it's hot, hot -- cold wa-der, cold wa-der and I'm wondering where the fuck did this come from? and I find out C's been doing this thing where she either runs water over it for about three seconds or pretends to run water over it for about three seconds and then it's fine ... if there's one thing C loves to do is build up pathologies, yesterday it was the Smurfs on dvd but then she had to run out to the liquor store and Oona showed no interest in Papa Smurf or Hefty Smurf or not even Vanity Smurf so we just turned it off and went back to playing and roughhousing.



So I told Oona her bottle was fine and said drink your bottle, it's fine and turned to leave and she looked at me and then stood up and heaved the bottle over the side of the crib and it shattered over the carpet.



So that's the end of bottles.



While we're at it, we might as well try to break the sussy (pacifier) and two-baby-doll (two babies, two babies!) pathologies as well, because some day we will be in some situation where there is no pacifier (there is only one that will do right now) or baby dolls and that will be a very bad night. I had her sleeping free of both for a long time but then C worked hard to reverse that. With C it's always a combination of wouldn't-it-be-better-with-this? and it's-just-easier-with-that whereas I am a total dictator, killjoy and all-round bad person.



Tin-drum storm on the roof last night and the news warning about wind and rain so I came out three-layered and boots-heavy this morning only to find myself dying about halfway to work, just wet pavement and this watery-warm sun, the promised wind nothing but a breeze and me carrying bundles against the tow-coloured glare, wondering at a what a fool I am to listen to some weatherman.



Two guys who could be brothers if not identical twins sleeping in the front seats of an older model van on the street.



A giant can of Coffee-Mate sitting on curb. I'm sweating so much I walk right into it.



Sometimes I wonder if there is enough cold water in the world.