Friday, July 30, 2010

Just for fun

OutOfTheMouthsOfMoms

I've caught myself saying some pretty ridiculous things to the toddler lately, so I thought I would play along. So here's a sampling of my conversations with W.

"We do NOT throw furniture when we're angry!"

"Thank you, honey, but R can't use his pacifier when he's nursing."

"Your purse is very pretty!"

"That's mommy's nipple. Please don't touch it."

"W, the baby swing is groaning. You're a little too big for it, buddy."

"Blowing bubbles works better if you take the wand out of your mouth."

"No, bathwater is not 'mmmmmmmmm!' Bathwater is yucky, and we don't drink it."

"W! Out of the dog water!" (That one actually came from B).

"Thank you for covering your brother up, but you really shouldn't put the blanket over his face."

"No, that's not your eye. That's your ear. Nope, still your ear. That is also your ear. Oh, never mind."

Tuesday, July 27, 2010

Feeling stabby

If this two-year-old crap goes on for too much longer, I have a feeling that someone living in this house (probably me) might not make it out alive. W is driving me absolutely nuts. When he has nights like tonight, I want nothing more than to stab someone (again, probably me).

It doesn't help when B completely loses his shit and needs to leave the house, abandoning me with a screaming baby and a screaming, flailing toddler, so that he doesn't do something stupid.

Like stabbing someone.

Because even when I feel stabby, my stay-the-hell-out-of-prison instinct is much stronger than the stabby instinct. Sometimes I worry that B doesn't quite have that same balance.

Thankfully, the little demons are in bed now, so I've got a few moments to breathe. And I'm happy to report that no one sustained any puncture wounds this evening.

Sunday, July 25, 2010

The best kind of compliment

While chatting with my mom on the phone last night, we got to talking about my brother and some of his misadventures in parenting. After talking about something stupid he and his fiancee did while juggling their brood (two hers, one his, one theirs...there are so many stories...), she sighed and said, "I'm so thankful for you. You have really been doing a wonderful job with W and R."

As a woman who has struggled with motherhood ever since the first pee stick turned pink, hearing something like that from my mom - who was, and still is, a wonderful, amazing mother - made me feel really, really good about myself.

Maybe I'm not screwing this up too badly after all.

Saturday, July 24, 2010

Hot and lazy

It's hotter than hell in the O-H, and I'm feeling some heat-induced lethargy, so rather than writing a real post today, I'm going to direct you over to Party Like a Kid, where Jill (also of Baby Rabies) chose to feature W's first birthday party. Enjoy!

Wednesday, July 21, 2010

Swoon!

While poking around on Etsy today, I came across the Itsawhimsicallife shop. It's owned by Susan Mitchell, who illustrates children's books. And O.M.G. I am completely in love with her artwork! The next time I have an influx of disposable cash (ha!), I'm blowing it all on her adorable prints. I want these for R's nursery (no, it's still not done yet...shut it). I also think this pig and this hedgehog (his name is Ollie! Squee!) are just about the cutest things EVER. I need to close that browser window before all the drool shorts out my laptop.

Etsy is a dangerous, dangerous land, my friends. I need to stay away from there or I'm going to end up preemptively spending my next three paychecks. When I win the lottery (that I don't play), after paying off the student loans and buying a car that I don't hate, I'm going to buy most of Etsy. That's my new life goal. How's that for ambition?

Just to cover my ass, here's a disclaimer: I did not receive anything for my swooning over Itsawhimsicallife. I found it and decided to write about it on my own. In fact, I can almost guarantee that Susan Mitchell has no idea who I am, no interest in providing me free things, and now probably thinks I'm a creepy stalker.

Sorry for the quiet

Sorry it's been a bit quiet around these parts lately. I've been having a rough go of it the past couple of weeks, and it's been hard to motivate myself to do much more than mope around the house. I'm hoping to get over my little depressive episode and be back to as-close-to-normal as possible soon.

Until then, I leave you with a riddle. How does a grown woman get a giant (roughly one inch by two inch), oval-shaped bruise on her wrist and have absolutely no recollection of how it happened?

If you figure it out, let me know. (Hint: it doesn't involve alcohol. I haven't had a drink in at least a couple of weeks, so UPI is out of the picture).

Friday, July 16, 2010

A farewell to my cat. For real this time.

Almost two years ago, I wrote this post after my cat got out of the house and was gone for five days. I figured for sure that she was dead, but she waltzed back into the house 10 days after she got out, and life went back to normal (well, except for the worms and fleas she picked up on her "adventure." I'm just glad she was spayed so she didn't come home pregnant, too).

Unfortunately, Gizmo's time with us has come to an end. On Tuesday night, she must have slipped out when I was bringing in groceries, and we think she was hiding in the wheel well of B's truck. (You can see where this is going, can't you?) As I was feeding R on Wednesday morning, B comes back to the house after leaving for work and tells me he accidentally ran over Gizmo. She was alive, but hurt pretty badly. Luckily, my mom was coming to the house to watch the boys that day, so I wouldn't have to worry about hauling her all over creation before I could get her to a vet. I took her to the vet thinking that she only had a badly broken leg, but it turned out that she also had a broken back, and was paralyzed from about her hips back. The vet told me her chances of recovery were "very poor," so I made the decision to put her down.

And I'm crushed.

She was a pain in the ass sometimes (especially after we brought R home), but I still loved her. She was with me through a lot of stuff over the past five years. I appreciated how well she tolerated being tortured played with by W. He was just figuring out how to say her name, and would stand at the top of the basement stairs yelling, "Gim-mo! Gim-mo!" when he was looking for her. It was super cute.

I love this picture of the two of them. It was taken when W was about seven months old, and it really shows the kind of relationship they had - W would go after her wanting to play, and Gizmo would be ready to beat his ass if he got too close. It was a match made in heaven.

You know, I've had a million cats over the years, and most of them met untimely ends. We lived in the country, so it wasn't unusual for cats to disappear, be eaten by wildlife, or be hit and killed by the cars speeding past our house. But I've never really had a long-term indoor cat that I got so close to, and I've never had to deal with putting one of my cats down. It sucks. I had to do laundry last night, and every time I went down and saw the empty space where her litter box and food had been, I felt a pang of sadness. I was very thankful that my mom cleaned all of her stuff up for me and B took care of her burial before I got home on Wednesday.

Gizmo, we'll miss you. I won't miss the hair you left all over my house or the chunks you tore out of every.single.pair. of flip flops I've owned since I brought you home, but I will very sorely miss snuggling with you, watching you "play" with W, and the unconditional love you gave.

Rest in peace, kitten.

Sunday, July 11, 2010

Science!

My mom and I took the boys to our local science center on Saturday. Despite my fears that it would be like the zoo (which doesn't really hold W's interest...he isn't super interested in the animals yet), it was a blast. W had the best time, and even behaved himself until well past nap time. For him, the best part was the little kids' room, which is basically a space closed off from the rest of the center for kids kindergarten-aged and younger. It's got a doctor's office, store, fire truck, water play area, tree house, construction zone, baby zone, house, and other assorted interesting things that kids can explore. W's favorite was the ambulance. He loved turning on the lights and siren. A close second was the computer in the doctor's office admitting area. He typed and typed to his little heart's content, and didn't get told "no" once. He was in heaven.


This is a little ball pit-type thing with a flexible tube in the middle. The tube blows out air, and you can make a ball float above it. You can also bend the tube so it blows air at toddlers, which results in pics like the one above.


W playing the baby zone (for kids two and under).


Driving the fire truck. This was almost as cool to him as the ambulance.


Me and the boys hunting for fossils in the dinosaur area. We didn't find one before W started trying to chew on the hammer and eat the rocks. So we moved on.


R wanted in on the fun, too, so he went to play with the babies in the nursery area of the doctor's office. And he was the only one who had the decency to put some clothes on.


"Baby down! Strap him to the back board!" You can see EMT W's foot. He was running to the front to drive baby brother to the hospital.

Saturday, July 10, 2010

All smiles

R is all smiles these days.



W wanted to get in on the picture-taking action, too, so here's a gratuitous pic of him.

My babies are so cute.

Friday, July 9, 2010

Damn you, Wiggles. Damn you and the big red car you rode in on

If you don't have kids, or have them but have been fortunate enough to avoid The Wiggles, consider yourselves lucky. They aren't from the same circle of hell as Barney, but they're close.

We'll get this out of the way first: I let my toddler watch TV. Judge if you want, but I am NOT a morning person, and turning on Sprout gives me a little bit of (relatively) peaceful time before W starts running non-stop for the day. Gives me time to get at least one Diet Coke down, and for it to start kicking in, you know? The need for this easing-in time was even greater while I was on maternity leave. So, W got to watch some TV every morning. (But never past 9:30. Barney comes on at 9:30, and I just canNOT handle that, no matter how much quiet(-ish) time it gets me.)

There was just one eensy, weensy problem with our morning Sprout watching. The early morning program is hosted by The Wiggles. It's called Sprout's Wiggly Waffle. It's sort of painful.

My biggest beef with all things Wiggle-y is the effing catchy songs. They're all so ear-wormy! You hear them once in the morning, and they're embedded in your brain all.day.long. And they're all too easy to remember, too. It embarrasses me to type this, but I know pretty much all of them, and can also do the dances.

Just the other morning, I turned on the TV so I could try to nurse R in peace, and the Wiggles episode that was on had two of their most sticky songs. And they were alternating through my head the whole.entire.day. It was maddening. Especially since I was in trial and needed to be paying attention to what was going on.

Their Australia-talk is all confusing, too. They always say "beauty, mate!" and (what sounds like) "too-roo!" I have no idea what either of those phrases means.

And some of their skits drive me nuts. There's this one bit they do that involves one of them dressing up in some costume. I wish I could find a video of it because it's much more annoying on film than it is in print. I'll do my best, though, using the king one as an example. Wiggle 1 is standing there in what is clearly a king costume, and Wiggle 2 comes up and asks what Wiggle 1 is wearing on his head. Wiggle 1 says, "What do you think it is?" Wiggle 2 says something ridiculous, like "an astronaut's helmet," when it's very clearly a crown. Then Wiggle 1 says, "Oh, no it's not!" Wiggle 2 says, "Oh, yes it is!" and they go back and forth several times. Then they "ask the audience" what's on Wiggle 1's head. Wiggle 2 then magically realizes that it is, indeed, a crown. They repeat the process for each piece of the costume (so they go through the whole thing like five times before Wiggle 2 actually figures out what Wiggle 1 is dressed up as). Makes me want to stab myself in the eyeball with a pencil.

I do find the amount of information I gleaned about The Wiggles clan just from watching the show daily for six weeks amazing. Here are my thoughts:
  • Jeff (the purple one) - I remember my aunt telling me years ago that this was a group of college classmates who put this whole Wiggles thing together as a class project. You know how every group project has that one person who's pretty worthless, but you have to include anyway? Yeah, that's Jeff. Dude can't sing. Can't dance very well, either. He does play the accordion, though, so I guess that's why they keep him around. He's also apparently a (pretend) narcoleptic.

  • Murray (the red one) - Murray is kinda scary looking. He can't sing very well, either. He's the official guitar player. Music is his "thing."

  • Anthony (the blue one) - Anthony also can't really sing, but is slightly better than the first two. He's also got the most flamboyant dance moves. He likes to eat, especially fruit salad (where the hell do they come up with this crap???)

  • Sam (the yellow one) - Sam is the good singer. He carries the group. He's not the original yellow Wiggle. He looks a lot like my friend's husband. I like Sam and find him to be the least annoying of the bunch. Before Sam was the yellow Wiggle, he was a back-up singer/dancer on the show, but they called him David in the one episode I saw him in.

  • Greg (the former yellow one) - I eventually noticed that there were two different incarnations of the yellow Wiggle, and I wondered why. Was there some falling out among the group? Had Greg slept with another Wiggle's wife? It had to be something good; you don't give up a cash cow like this for nothing. At a friend's wedding, the people at my table got into a discussion about The Wiggles (because we're all super-lame and have young children), and a friend's wife had done some research to find out the story. Unfortunately, it's nothing juicy. Greg has some sort of medical issue and had to quit. Sam was picked as his replacement. After Greg left, their show went from being called "The Wiggles Show" to "Wiggle and Learn." I'm guessing this has something to do with ownership and royalties and rights and all of that.

  • The rest of them - I'm not going to get into the annoying qualities of Captain Feathersword (worst fake pirate ever..."snuzzle-wuzzle" is NOT a pirate word), Dorothy the Dinosaur (her giggle makes me cringe), Wags the Dog (I'm pretty sure he's not mentally all there), and Henry the Octopus (he's not on much, so I don't know much about him. But his plaid pants are ugly).

I'm not gonna lie, it repulses me to see how much I just wrote on this subject. And that was all just from watching TV for a little while in the mornings. There are much more important things that need that precious space in my brain.

Damn you, Wiggles. Damn you and your (toot, toot, chugga, chugga) big red car.

Monday, July 5, 2010

My home town has hit a new low

Last night, when we went to my mom's back yard to watch firework, I was immediately bitten by about four mosquitoes. Mom didn't have any bug spray, so I made a last-minute run to Wal-Mart so that we would all survive the evening. This was around 9:00; fireworks started at 10:00.

After procuring bug spray, a citronella candle, and some sparklers, I went back to my car. It was there that I saw them. At least one family, maybe two, getting out of a minivan with their blankets, lawn chairs, and coolers. Setting their stuff up to watch the fireworks. From the Wal-Mart parking lot. Now, in some towns, this might not be a completely ridiculous idea, but in my town, the Wal-Mart isn't anywhere near where the fireworks are set off - I'm not even sure you could see them from there. Nor is the Wal-Mart parking lot dark. And, on top of that, THEY GOT THERE EARLY! Like they were worried about not getting a good spot. I don't get it.

I hope you all enjoyed this little peek into my klassy little home town. Happy belated Fourth.