Madeleine started daycare Monday. She'll be going three days a week to start. When we toured the place a few weeks ago, an older boy, Taylor, was clearly flirting with her (at the time, she was nine weeks old, and he was a worldly and sophisticated three-month-old). I expected Taylor to be enthusiastically rolling out the red carpet Monday morning to welcome the infant room's newest kid, but when I took Madeleine in, he was sleeping in his crib! Apparently Taylor is now playing hard to get. If he's not sleeping in his crib, he's fussing in the swing, or sitting in a boucy seat with his back to her. Fortunately, she seems unfazed by this mercurial behavior and has busied herself with her own groovy swing and playmat thingy.
It seems that Madeleine is learning an early lesson: Boys are often indecisive, they make no sense, and they sleep when they should be doing something else. I'm proud that she hasn't taken it to heart and is doing her own thang.
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Making the best of it in this very strange city
Background, June 2009
It looks like we're stuck in Phoenix for the next three years or so. A lot of people think of Phoenix as a dusty, concrete, meth-infested wasteland peppered with golfer pricks, Mexican hats (not typically in the same area), and cowboys. And it can be hard not to judge Phoenix by the view from I-10. From that perspective, it certainly is a hell-hole; many travelers understandably zip through because they're put off by the miles of roadside chain-link fences, industrial architecture, and terrifying breakfast specials advertised on dilapidated signage. But what a colossal mistake that is, for Phoenix is full of absurd treasures of every description. Why, within a mile radius of our place, there are no fewer than 83 drive-thru joints—including Filiberto's, Rigoberto's, Figoberto's, Rigobertito's, Rolberto's, Rigoberto's Los Dos, Filberto's, and Rigofigoberto's—where you can obtain a super-cerveza-absorbing carne asada burrito for $2 at 3 a.m. And let us not forget neighboring Scottsdale, home to the largest number of fake boobs (I'm hoping this works out to an even number) per capita in the United States, at least according to some guy I talked to at Zen 32.
This blog shall serve as a chronicle of my efforts to embrace the very strange city of Phoenix, Arizona, and environs. I trust that it will be a worthwhile project—admittedly, one that I probably should have started in 1997 or so.
This blog shall serve as a chronicle of my efforts to embrace the very strange city of Phoenix, Arizona, and environs. I trust that it will be a worthwhile project—admittedly, one that I probably should have started in 1997 or so.
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