Tuesday, August 22, 2006

Long time, no write

I apologize. I have fallen off the writing wagon and I decided I wanted to get back on. If anyone still checks this site after a year, please keep checking back. I am sure there will be more to come.

Let me catch you up on this past year. Nothing too exciting except for the fact that we got pregnant and are due with our new baby girl within days. I have had a pretty uneventful pregnancy and with baby J, nothing stays boring or calm. I will be referring to him as 'the kid' as opposed to 'baby J' because it is just going to get way too confusing and with preggo brain and mommy brain (which is worse than preggo brain) I am going to get the kids confused. Not that one being a tiny, itty bitty, crying baby girl and a 40 pound non-stop, loud and very opinionated toddler boy would make me rememeber the difference.

So please stick around. If I can dig up some dirt from the past few months, get it down in writing. Happy to see you.

Monday, July 31, 2006

Basic food group

"My son just ate Ketchup for his dinner. Everything else is exactly how I gave it to him."

"Thats a vegetable, right?"

Saturday, June 17, 2006

Thankful for someone

Ever since baby j was an ity bity little person I have always been fascinated with him while he sleeps. He is so peaceful and all the terror, temper tantrums, scraped knees, toy throwing, hitting, and water splashing just seem to disappear. I have spent countless hours lying next to him watching him breathe. I would watch him sleep so peacefully and just thank the force that has given him to me. With his eyes closed and his steady breaths he is an angel. The perfect sound comes out of him every so often and my heart just melts. A sigh. That, my friends, is the most perfect sound.

He now cuddles with his Simba doll that sports his Mets T-shirt because it doesn’t fit him anymore. Every night I come into his room to adjust his blanket and make sure both of them are properly covered and centered on the bed. I push baby J’s hair back and give him a gentle kiss and tell him I love him. Lately he will talk in his sleep and say ‘Hi, mommy. What a doing?’ and I will just simply respond ‘Tucking you in and giving you a kiss, baby.’ He doesn’t open his eyes or get up. He will just turn over and go back to his good nights sleep.

This has to be the best part of my every day. I cannot go to sleep without this routine. Without saying a peaceful goodnight to my baby. This is a moment that makes you forget how difficult it is to be a parent. How exhausted you are every day. It just makes you feel love that you just never thought you could feel.

Thursday, June 8, 2006

Reasoning with a 2 year old

I think I may start a category just for tantrums. I am sure I would have more of those than anything these days. Today’s was about independence. I went in to get Baby J out of bed and to start his day. We had to get going and get dressed so we can eat and go to class this morning. He was in a good mood and was playing in the mirror. So while he was making funny faces I figured I would drop his sleeping shorts and get the diaper off as quick as I could since getting him undressed and dressed is becoming a continuous battle. As the shorts hit the floor it was like I flashed his ex-girlfriend that had never seen his parts. Immediately, and as I am ripping his pee-soaked diaper off, he lifts his shorts up. He is holding it high by his stomach but the back end hasn’t passed over his back end. So in his attempt to try to keep his dignity, he runs to the door to hide from me screaming that he wants his SHORTS ON. I don’t fight him and just try to reason with a two a year old. What was I thinking?

“You can keep your shorts on as long as I put on a clean diaper”
“No new diaper”
“Mommy doesn’t want you to pee-pee on the floor. We need to wear a new diaper”
“No pee-pee da foor”
“Honeybear, we have to wear a diaper to go eat our breakfast”
“I promise that you can wear your sleepy shorts…”
“Uh-oh!” {with a serious look on his face}
“Pee-pee on da foor, Mommay.”

Yup! There it was. He walked over to me and pointed to the wet spot he had created on his beautiful carpeting. He immediately let me put a diaper on after that. I guess it was either a diaper or I make him sit on the potty all day.

Wednesday, June 7, 2006

Breaking point

Baby J is at the front door kicking and screaming at the top of his lungs. I have dinner on the table and he is covered in whatever he has been playing with outside. Most likely a mixture of bubbles and dirt. All he wants to do is play with his friend that is still outside. The high-pitched squealing gets louder and louder. The tears stream down his bright red face. He tries to bang on the door as if it will magically open with his fists. Then he uses his feet. Somehow he gets a few words that sound like “play” “outside” “Allison”. We are not quite sure, but that’s the best we can do.

R is watching this display of emotion with me for many minutes. He looks at me square in the eye and says, “Thank God I get to go back to work tomorrow!”

Wednesday, May 31, 2006

Mommy’s sleep policy

“Do you ever get up before the kid does?”
“What do you mean?”
“Do you wake up in the morning before he does?”
“Yea, but I go back to sleep until he wakes me up.”
“You can get so much done if you wake up before him.”
“I could but I could get so much done after he goes to sleep at night AND have you help me.”

Friday, May 26, 2006

A ferocious Beast

The other day my husband and I battled a ferocious beast. It was so horrible I had nightmares about it the next day. It all started when I went into the laundry room to reheat what was in the dryer so I can fold it all hot while watching my Law and Order finale’s. There it was not even two feet next to me and I swear it was the uglyest beast I have ever seen. Worst than the one I saw in College that the experts couldn’t even identify. We used to call them Rodney bugs because they were typically found in the Rodney dorms and they looked like a cross between a roach and a cricket and some other bug. That was so long ago.

The beast I found sitting silently in my laundry room was a big old nasty spider. It was sitting facing downward on a nicely folded blanket that I use to curl up infront of the TV with. I know it was waiting for me to get closer and attack me. That thing was vicious and absolutely ready to invade my home. It probably was calling its troops as I looked at it and screamed at the top of my lungs and backed away from it without taking my eyes off of it. The husband jumped up from his computer desk so fast it was amazing. He reacted as if I lit my hair on fire and couldn’t stifle the flames.

He asks me what happened and I tell him there is a humongous spider in there. I am jumping and cringing and getting all the heeby jeebies just telling him about it. He looks into the laundry room and he immediately freaks out. I am sure he was expecting one of those typical spiders that you find around the house that are not as scary in comparison and seem pretty easy to get rid of. But, nope. This one was big and hairy and grosser than the scene where Ben Stiiller gets his face squished on a hairy mans sweaty chest in “Along Came Polly”.

I immediately run for the camera to take a picture of it. The husband runs to the garage to find something to catch it with. It’s amazing how different our first instincts are. I go to take a picture while R digs for a tree trimmer and a clear box. R’s intentions were quite obvious but I had to get this picture. I had to show my bug expert and ask her what it was and WHY THE HELL WAS IT IN MY HOUSE??!! My poor friend has had to experience all my bug woes over the years but I think this time both R and I entertained her quite well.

I send the picture to my friend and call her. While we are on the phone R and I try to come up with a strategy on how to get it out of our home. My friend tells me that this is not a bug to fuck around with it, that we should just get rid of it. She goes on speakerphone while we gear up to battle the beast. We argue over who is going to nudge it and who will step on it. I could swear that for a good 10 minutes this was going on. And of course, the bug expert is on the line listening to us bicker at each other.

“You know I can’t go near spiders.”
“What? Neither can I.”
“Yes you can, your just making that up.”
“I was the one who found it, you get to kill it.”
“That’s not fair.”
“Yes it is.”
“We should capture it and study it.”
“What the hell for? Its big and disgusting and it has to die.”

So the husband holds the tree trimmer firmly and I am trying to hold the flashlight steady because you know by now the damn thing moved into the dark folds. I try to back away as far as I could in the room and R just kept pushing me forward because it was my job to step, capture or keep an eye on it. Whichever was needed. So as R is poking and prodding the hairy monster, it moves. It keeps moving even after we were able to get parts of it off. R started to beat the blanket and it finally stopped moving. It was in a whole bunch of pieces, on the blanket that was now on the floor. All while R was doing his thing with the tree shears I am squealing and freaking out and I actually believe R was too. You would have to ask my friend that was still on the speakerphone listening to our episode of “how not to kill a spider”.

After the massacre we carefully looked at all the pieces of that nasty monster on my beautiful blue snuggle blanket. R asked me what we are going to do with it and I immediately say,

“We are going to throw it out.”
“How are you going to get it off that blanket?”
“Are you kidding me, I’m not going to touch that thing again.”
“You mean your gonna throw the whole blanket away?”
“You bet your ass I’m throwing it away. Unless you want to sleep with it again?”
“Ill go get you a bag.”

It took a lot of maneuvering and a bit of bravery to get the bag over the blanket without touching anything. I did get that whole blanket in there and its ready for the garbage men to take the spider to its final resting place.

R and I went back to our computers. There is nothing like some couple bonding.

Thursday, May 18, 2006

What chapter are we up to?

We have entered into a new and difficult stage in raising a child. We have gone through big bellies and birthing. We had a helpless infant that would eat, sleep and poop on a regular, hourly schedule. Sleepless nights and stinky spitup. We have been through the first tooth through the twentieth. Newborn diapers to size 6. Rolling, sitting, crawling, cruising and of course, first steps all the way to running faster than mommy could. Solid foods. First words. First haircut. Going to the zoo and even a trip to Disney World. The list can go on forever. Anyone with a child would know how I cried at every one of these events. Just thinking of all of these things even brings a tear to my eye. My baby, he is growing up.

My son happens to be the most independent person I know and probably will ever know. I can tell that already. When he was 10 ½ months, on December 21st 2004, he decided that he no longer wanted to breastfeed. We woke up and I did my usual routine with him. I get ready to feed him, latch him and he looks right up at me and… {BITE}. YOWCH! I wait a few minutes and through my tears of agony I try again. YOWCH again! I tried all day to get him to take the breast. I tried all week. I was more determined than a hungry lion staring at a zebra at the pond. J wanted nothing to do with it. J decided when he wanted to end the most intimate of mother-child relationships, no me. I was devastated. I, for once, at 10 ½ months, realized that my child was very independent and was growing up. I had to take a long deep breath. I also cried more than I should have.

J’s next step to independence just occurred a few weeks ago. One night as we were putting him to bed, he put his foot down and gave up one of the longest nights we have had in a long time. After bath, brushing his teeth, struggling with the diaper and his jimmies, J announced that he didn’t want to sleep in his crib.

“Mommay, nap floor.”
“You don’t want to sleep in your crib, Honeybear?”

We would put him in the crib and he would scream as if I put him into a pool of hot lava. He was hysterical. It was horrifying. Hearing him plead with us because all he wanted was to sleep on the floor. We didn’t get it. We finally gave up and let him cry in his crib and he eventually did fall asleep that night. He woke up bright and early ready to get out of his confines of wooden bars.

Naptime was just as pretty. The crying and begging not to go into his crib was unbearable. Everything was thrown out and announced that THEY were sleeping on the floor. His Tigger doll, Mickey Mouse, Brown Bear Book, sippy cup, even his banana blanket all were ready to sleep on the floor. With or without him. After a very long struggle, I set up a makeshift bed on the floor next to his crib. He fell asleep instantly and slept there peacefully for his entire nap. Makeshift Bed This is when I realized that my child, my baby, this being that was supposed to need me for everything and follow my every direction is not going to. He wasn’t going to sleep in his baby crib for the rest of his life like I had planned. He decided he was ready to be ‘out of the crib’. He was making his next step to be as far away from my womb as possible. He slept on the floor for a few days until we ran out and got him a big boy twin bed. I spent a fortune on cool bedding from Pottery Barn and he has been great in it ever since. He doesn’t even get out of it in the morning when he wakes up. He still lays in bed and plays with his dolls and books and anything else I leave in his bed for him. I hear him playing with his Baby Tad doll that sings a few notches way too high and he will sing ‘Gymbo, swish, swish, swish!’ Which is his version of the Gymboree song. When he is ready to get out of bed, he doesn’t climb out. We hear from the top of his lungs, “mommay, mommay, mommay!!!!!” and then something that resembles that he wants to get out of bed.

Although, it is a sad and emotional point for my husband and I, I absolutely love being able to lay down next to my baby J and read his books to him. He likes to creep his fingers around my face and explore every part of it. It’s just so absolutely precious and it’s those moments that I need to help me forget his devilish toddlerhood that makes me nuts all day long. I love my growing boy.

Anyone have a Kleenex?

Thursday, May 11, 2006

Almost as dissapointing as the Rangers

I am in utter shock right now. How in the world could Chris be booted off AI? I know I voted. Did you? Everyone loves him. Even the audience was just as shocked. I have never seen an audience so stunned since I have been watching the show. Is everyone upset because they kept saying ‘Oh, he doesn’t need my vote, everyone is voting for him?’ I know as I was hitting redial then getting busy signal, redial then getting busy signal, redial then getting busy signal until my fingers almost fell off. My husband kept saying that he didn’t need my vote. I finally got my vote in and said that I wanted him to win by a long shot and every vote counts. I guess that’s why I vote in the presidential elections and he doesn’t. Every vote means something.

So, how can he be so loved and so adorned and be booted off? It’s my theory that they rigged it somehow. Katherine keeps messing up her lyrics, Taylor sings like someone is twisting a twig in his ass, and honestly Elliott really doesn’t have a good voice. AI is ALMOST not worth watching anymore.

Monday, May 8, 2006

Our future is comfortable

The whole ordeal with our bed is now over. We finally did get our box springs. The bed is quite firmer than our last and we tried to get a comfort exchange. That didn’t work out and we decided to stick with it. R figures it just needs to be broken in. Although we went through hell and back to get these low profile box springs, the bed still seems very high to me. I am thinking of getting a step stool for my side of the bed or I am going to have a far fall one of these days. Even though I may break my head open trying to get on and off, I am very happy we made the switch to a king.

There is quite a change from a queen size to a king size. It’s an enormous 18 inch difference from one side to the other. Sleeping in the bed, with my husband beside me, I have made a few observations. These statements do not mean I don’t love my new, huge and comfortable bed. It will just take some time to get used to.

When I want to reach over in the middle of the night and scratch R’s back, I have to really reach over. Sometimes I even have to go searching for him.

Making the bed makes you feel like you are making the whole state of Texas, it’s so big.

I now sleep with 3 pillows. I have a new king size pillow I put behind my 2 regulars and the big fat 22 pound cat sleeps on the big pillow. Now he doesn’t purr on me or lick me all the time. I just get a nice, gentle vibration.

I can’t see my clock at night. I have to dig through the pillows to get to my nightstand.

The phone, which is now on R’s side of the bed because of electrical difficulties, seems likes it’s a mile and a half away.

All three of the cats can sleep on the bed without infringing on the others’ territory.

We can sleep with all three of the cats without feeling like we are going to fall off the bed.

R still creeps onto my side of the bed, but it takes longer for him to get there.

I am dying to have our little guy crawl into bed with us and snuggle in the mornings.

There is just way too many pillows between our normal pillows, the 2 new king pillows, my body pillow and all the decorative pillows.

I feel like if I turn on the fan it’s going to chop off my toes.

But no matter what, I still love to climb into R’s side of the bed after he leaves. I guess with any size bed I will do that.

Thursday, May 4, 2006

Bedtime stories

“HELLO? What the hell did you do? I couldn’t get him down no matter what I tried.”

“I read him a book and sang him a song as I went around the room until I got to the door and snuck out. He’s just laying there with his sippy and will be asleep in a few minutes.”

“You must be a miracle maker.”

“No, you must have tired him out the past hour and a half.”

Wednesday, April 26, 2006

Lost in translation

Around the house, I am typically the one that fixes things. If the door closes wrong, I am the one to adjust it, if a drawer gets jammed, I am the one that unjams it. I put up the hardware and I have more mileage on the power drill than my hubby. I guess you get the idea, right?

The past few days I have noticed a little ‘stuffage’ in our downstairs toilet. That bathroom is not typically used so I have put the soft toilet paper in there to try to get rid of it. It turns out that the super soft, ultra thick, you can jump off the top of a building and land on it safely toilet paper is really bad for your pipes. After all the sewer and plumbing issues I have witnessed, I listen to my plumber like he is the leader to my cult. Scott brand, regular toilet tissue is all we will use in this house. However, I do have some leftover soft stuff so I try to place it wisely. I just can’t bear the thought of just tossing all of it.

Last night I mentioned the stuffing that I have noticed in the bathroom to R. I told him to be careful with the toilet paper because it seems like that toilet doesn’t take it so well. I even pointed to the door of the water closet since we were sitting in the room it adjoined.

Today R worked from home, so he got up pretty late and ran downstairs just in time for work. He typically doesn’t bother me and lets me sleep in the mornings. During breakfast this is the conversation I had to endure:

“The downstairs toilet is stuffed up.”
“It is? Did you use it?”
“Didn’t I just tell you last night not to use that bathroom?”
“You meant THAT bathroom?”
“Uh, YES! I pointed right at it.”
“Oh, I thought you meant the upstairs bathroom.”

{Short pause}

“Why did you even use that bathroom.”
“I didn’t want to wake you.”
“You blow dry your hair in our bathroom and I never wake up.”
{confused stare}

So I spent all morning with J searching Target for a $120 plunger. (well that includes a few extra items)

Monday, April 24, 2006

Where is my sleep

I have yet to have a good nights’ sleep all on my own these days. There are many factors that feed into this never ending peril of my life. First, and probably the most important is that I really don’t feel like going back to my Rheumatologist who will prescribe me with my itty-bitty perfect pill. It’s not a sleep aid or an antidepressant. It’s just a small dosage of a little bit of heaven. I just don’t feel like being poked and prodded and x-rayed and tested and anything else a doctor can do to rule out everything in the book except for my condition. One day I will go, when I get THAT desperate. Maybe I am, I just don’t know it yet.

These are the environmental conditions I have to live with that prevent me from my beauty rest:

1. My husband has taken up the Olympic sport of snoring. In the 13 years that I have known this man, he has never been a snorer. Yea, a little heavy breathing and maybe a snore here and there, but nothing that couldn’t be fixed with a good smack in the head or a shove off the bed.

2. We have a 22-pound cat, Andre, which thinks he is still a kitten. Not only does he think he is the cutest, most adorable thing, he thinks he is small enough to sit above my head on my pillow. So every night when I am about to dose off into my slumber land, he makes himself comfortable at the top of my head. Paws in my face, smooshing my nose or in my ears. His cold wet nose always winds up somewhere very uncomfortable and his whiskers tickle anything they touch. If that isn’t bad enough, his purr is as loud as a lawnmower. Maybe even louder. I am surprised it doesn’t wake baby J sometimes. If the sound of the purr doesn’t keep me awake, the vibrations of my head do.

3. My little 12 pound Oscar likes to sit by my feet but he doesn’t seem to bother me too much. What does bother me is that we now have the worlds’ cutest cat, ChoCho, in the house but he is one bad motherfucker, I’ll tell you! He likes to sit on me or very close to me. If he can’t because one of the other two sweet cats are nearby, he will get his way by hissing and smacking. If that doesn’t work an all out war will be declared on my side of the bed. And if I kick them off the bed or out of the room, the bombs start to drop anywhere else in the house. Sometimes I do hear something break and I actually have to get up to clean it.

4. If ChoCho isn’t threatened by one of the other two cats, he will just climb onto me and start to dig his head into my armpit. That means he wants treats. He will do that until I reach into the drawer and give him the exact amount that he wants.

5. The house is always too warm for me to sleep.

6. R always steals the blankets.

7. R always seems to find his way to the center of the bed and leaves me with about 5 inches of space to sleep in.

8. R steals my body pillow, which has been a sleeping staple for me since I was in college.

9. R decides that 3 am is a great time to get it on. Um, not.

10. I start to think. (This is a bad one) Sometimes Ill be so mad at R for the fight we had while he was sleeping that I wont be able to sleep at all. And of course Ill need to confront him in the morning. You should see his face when this happens. He is like a deer in headlights and you can see in his eyes, ‘What the fuck did I do?’

11. I start to think of mom.

12. I hear noises.

13. I don’t hear noises

14. I have to pee. (You would think that this is an easily fixable dilemma)

15. I’m trying to remember if the alarm is set.

16. Hungry.

17. R’s pager goes off, more than once. It seems to know when I am about to dose off.

18. I hear J stirring.

19. I don’t hear J stirring.

20. Did I mention that R snores?

21. I reminisce of the days when I was an RA in college and I am confronting a room with a police officer and a fellow coworker. The kid comes out of his room wearing nothing but leopard skin leotards. That will keep you awake for days!

22. I remember the perfect comeback to an argument I had 3 weeks ago.

23. I haven’t shaved my legs in a long time and you can almost not tell the difference from my legs and R’s.

24. Trying to decide if I would rather have a boy or a girl as my next child.

25. Trying to decide if I even want another child.

26. Thinking of my next blog entry.

Sunday, April 23, 2006

My Mr. Pisser

Nighttime diapers have become quite a challenge. We have gone through every option we can think of and we still have the same problem: They just don’t hold enough! Just about every morning when I go in to get J from his crib (yes, he is still in a crib and will be there until he is either 1. Fully potty trained or 2. Figures out how to get out) I have to repeat the get up, strip and clean up routine. My washing machine was brand new and I swear it’s about ready to conk out from all the pee-pee bedding it has had to endure. We were using the Huggies Overnights but he started to pee through those and they don’t make a bigger size than what he was in. I tried using all kinds of diapers, different sizes, liners or anything you can think of. I can’t seem to find the liners I was using and I am about ready to try a maxipad. How much different could it be? They both claim to hold a lot of fluid, right?

Last night I tried a Pampers Cruiser. They seem to do a really great job during the day, especially those days where I am just a bad parent and change his diaper only when it offends the neighbors’ dog. This morning J woke up screaming 'MOMMY, MOMMY, NA-KIN, NA-KIN, BUG, BUG' in a high pitched, very scared sounding voice. I ran into his room and discovered that the diaper crystals had escaped and exploded out of the confines of his diaper and were all over his bed, all over him, his face, hands, everywhere. I immediately got him out of the bed and stripped him down in fear that he may get the crystals in his mouth. When I got him down to his birthday suit, he saw hundreds of little crystals all over his body and he completely freaked out. He got all heeby-skeevy and was shrilling that these things were all over his body. Without delay, I got him in the tub.

So, the Pampers Cruisers have been scratched off our list of appropriate bedtime diapers.

Thursday, April 13, 2006

One measly inch

For many months I have been complaining that I want a king size bed. In our old house it really wouldn’t fit so after our fire, I was hesitant about getting a queen but I knew it was the only solution at the time. It was either that or I slept on the futon in the computer room. However I like to hear my husbands breathing while I sleep and I already use the monitor to listen to my baby boy. We now moved out of that house and into one that has rooms that fit us much better. We sold our old bedroom set with the trillions of drawers, low laying bed and the matching nightstands to the people who are buying the house. “Why move it if it fits so well in the room?” SOLD! So off to furniture stores we went to buy a new bedroom set. An adult bedroom set. Ever since the words ‘new set’ hit my radar I have bugging my other half that I want a king size and I was going to get it no matter what it took. I finally did get him to see the beauty of a bed with space and room to roam in, by the way things look, it’s going to be awhile before I prove this to him.

We found a bedroom set that we both really love with a king size bed. And what do you know, it was available to be delivered on Wednesday. PERFECT! So the next day we went to a local mattress store. We ordered our super soft, super comfortable, dreamy king size bed with low profile box springs. We decided on the low profile because I am pretty short and I feel I shouldn’t have to actually climb into bed.

The set comes in early in the day, which was perfect. I was able to check the drawers and dust it off and position everything perfectly. I set up our clocks, lamps, baby monitor and anything else that had to be ready. Wednesday was a holiday and I was going to shower and get ready while baby J was sleeping because we were going to leave as soon as he woke up to go to my cousins. I wait and wait and wait for the mattress delivery. With each minute that passes I ask myself if I should hop into a quick shower. I call for an update on the truck and they are on their way to my house. So I wait. An hour goes by and no truck. Damn! I could have showered, but just in case, I didn’t want to be indisposed when they knocked at the door. R gets home from work and they still don’t show up. Another call and another half hour and they drive up. They set up the bed and R and I take a good look at it. It’s too high. I feel like I am climbing Mount Everest to get ontop of the bed. We measured and the box spring was definitely not a low profile. So after much fighting and arguing and steam coming out of R’s ears, the box springs went back.

This was so depressing. By the time we were done with the battle with Sleepy’s, it was too late for us to go to my Cousin’s house for the Sedar. We decided to go to R’s Cousin’s instead of sitting in traffic. It actually did work out nicely, but I feel horrible for canceling on my Cousin when I was the one who wanted to get together with them. So we slept on the living room floor on our old mattress, looking up at our beautiful king size bed propped up against the wall in the hallway.

Today R got our money back from Sleepy’s and called 1-800-Mattress and ordered what we needed. These were to be delivered tonight. The guys came, placed the box springs on the bed and then had to take them right back on the truck. Of all the low profile box springs out there, we get the ULTRA low ones that only measure 4 inches high. All we need is one that is 5 inches. Just one inch is what is keeping us from sleeping in our wonderland of a king size bed. So again, we will be sleeping on the old queen on the living room floor staring up at our beautiful king size bed propped up against the wall in the hallway.

Sunday, April 9, 2006

Its someones day

Baby J just started to sing. He is not very good at it and if you weren’t R or I, you wouldn’t think he was actually singing. He sings one or two words and kind of makes a semi beat to it. He typically skips a word or two so its difficult to understand what he is actually singing.

Typically the melodies are encouraged by us trying to get him to sing or asking him to sing a song. His favorite song is Happy Birthday. He sings the words ‘Happy’ and ‘Birthday’ with emphasis on the r in birthday. It’s quite a sound to listen to. Today after dinner at the pizza place he was in a great mood. He was so excited that he refused to get into his car seat. After a few minutes of struggling with him, R asked me to take over the challenge. I handed him a yamikah that was in the car from my mothers unveiling that took place earlier today. As he placed it on his head I was able to buckle the little guy into his seat.

The next thing we know, he is belting out loud ‘HAPPY BURR-TH-DAY’ {pause} ‘HAPPY BURR-TH-DAY’… over and over again. I guess he figured the yamikah is a really cool birthday hat. I wonder who’s birthday he thought it was?

Tuesday, April 4, 2006

Would you like some whipped cream on that?

After dinner tonight I decided it was time for me to buy a book I have been meaning to get for a long time. It’s called ‘Your Wearing That?’ and it’s about the complicated relationships between mothers and daughters. Being that my mothers unveiling is this coming weekend and her one year anniversary of her passing is coming up I thought it was about time for me to join the group of mothers and daughters (and anyone else) who actually try to understand the most complicated relationship known to the human race. Why I want to torture myself like that? I don’t know. But I feel its something I have to do.

With baby J in tow, we go to the Borders near our new home. I figured I would check it out and see what their Children’s section has to offer. We walk in, J with his sippy, and I see the book that I was there for and grab it. J runs through the aisles as fast as I can blink and I finally get him the Children’s section. I strongly believe you cannot bring a child to a bookstore without buying him a book. I start searching the board books for something that might intrigue him or at least have him sit with me for 5 minutes to read to him. J picks up a little Elmo doll and around the corner, between the board books and the picture books is a nice, grey, commercial sized book cart with the large metal bars and wheels as big as J’s head sits. Elmo seems to find his way to the bay area of the cart and Elmo gets a ride of his life. Going back and forth and up and down the board book aisle. Occasionally he found himself being smashed into a bookshelf, but no one got hurt.

Instead of fighting with him, I let him roll the cart around. It was harmless and he has played with things bigger and much more treacherous than that. I figured I would get him to bring the cart to the register and recommend to the underpaid idiot taking my money to put it in the proper place. Then have an all out temper tantrum scene on the way out of the store.

So on my way from point A to point B we bumped into a woman who obviously worked there displaying her big green (or was it red?) name tag which I didn’t have a chance to read and had quite a superiority complex. She practically chased us down and went up to J telling him that the cart was not a toy. Me, knowing that he wasn’t going to hurt himself, maybe others, but not himself, I briefly explained how I tried to get it away from him and figured I would let him roll it to the checkout. He wasn’t hurting anyone, especially himself, and he was quiet and happy. The woman, in a firm voice, started to explain how the cart was dangerous and he could really get hurt and it shouldn’t be played with by a child. I just stood up as I pulled J away from her beloved cart and stated, "Such a dangerous item shouldn’t be left in the Children’s section of your store."

She stormed away in a huff.

Saturday, April 1, 2006

Comfort of Our Future

“I want a king size bed.”

“Why? Our bed is fine.”

“It’s too small.”

“No its not.”

“Every night you creep onto my side of the bed and I have no where to go.”

“I’m going to creep to your side of the bed no matter how big it is.”

“I want my own bedroom.”

Monday, March 20, 2006

Don’t forget to shake

After a relaxing and fun bath is the best time to release. You’re clean and refreshed. What better way to prepare yourself for a great nights sleep than to do this ritual which cleanses you of the days germs, dirt, food, schmutz and anything else your body may collect. What’s even better is sprinkling your rug with the liquid waste most people save for the potty. So there I am, trying to dry off Baby J’s little body while he shivers and he gets into ‘position’. I hurry and put the towel down to give him a target. Its easier to clean a towel than the carpet. A quick stream and then he stops. Turns 90 degrees to make sure the target is far away from his aim. He starts again, I throw the towel in place to make sure the carpet didn’t get any. Stop, 90 degree turn and a giggle this time. I am trying so hard not to laugh I can’t ask him if he wants to go pee-pee on the potty even though I know all too well that its too late for that. He finally realized he wasn’t going to be able to water his carpet with mom around. J spots a paper cup that adults typically use to rinse their mouth out after brushing their teeth, but J uses to stack and knock over and they are all over the room. He picks one up. Places it strategically in front of his penis and finishes the job. Hands me the cup and says “Dank You!”

Tuesday, March 14, 2006

Sex symbol?

I think Kevin Covais is the only American Idol top 12 that doesnt shave. Let me get that straight, even the females shave, somewhere. My question is how can you be a sex symbol if you don't even have to shave?

Monday, March 13, 2006

Head, shoulders, knees and toes..

While I was changing J for bedtime tonight he was sitting in his diaper exploring his body. He would point and I would name what it was.
He then looked down and found something. He looked at me as he was pointing and he said ‘nee-pool’. And I looked up and said ‘yes, that’s your nipple’. He then looked down and pointed to his other nipple and repeated ‘nee-pool’. Again I reassured him that he was correct. After he was sure that he only had two of them he made sure that he had enough hands with enough fingers. He squeezed each of his ‘nee-pools’ and pranced around the room proclaiming the part of his anatomy he was grasping. We had quite a laugh. I don’t think either one of us stopped laughing for a good ten minutes.

I will tell him this story when he is 17 and will never believe me, but you just cant make this stuff up.

Wednesday, March 8, 2006

My last post?

Out of nowhere I am told I have to go. I am part of some gang that no matter what my life is about, I have to do what I am told or there are consequences. I drop everything and pack a small bag. My mind is running in a thousand directions and I am trying to figure out how I want to leave things. Do I write a note or do I say what I feel out loud. Do I not say anything and just let life move on without me because I know I will not be back. I will never see my room and my home and all the ones I love again. I have a gut feeling that the sun beating on my golden red hair would be the last that I would ever feel. I am scared. I am petrified. I am weak.

The last thing I do is I go to my son’s bedroom and watch him sleep. How peaceful he looks. He lets out a big sigh. My absolute favorite sound in the world. He has a whole life ahead of him and this is the last day he will know with me in it, I think to myself. Will he remember me? Will he know how much and how deep I feel for him? Will someone tell him all the sacrifices I have and would do for him? I rub his soft and adorable cheek. It’s warm and full of life. I want to run from my fate and take him with me. My heart drops as deep as it possibly could be.

I run to the front lawn and scream out loud to the ones waiting for me.
“I don’t want to go!”
“You just don’t understand!”
“I cant, I love him too much!”
“You just can’t understand!”
“Your not a mother!”

Someone comes out of the house with a large serving platter of pink and white cookies and says “We know, that’s why you are not going.”

Then I wake up.

Friday, February 17, 2006

Birthday Eve

Tonight is the eve of my Baby J’s 2nd birthday. The husband has to work late and I am sitting on the couch in such awe of the past two years listening to him babble to himself in bed. This amazing being has once been a helpless, tiny baby with a whole world ahead of him. Not knowing what is in store for him, how much love he will be given and how he will win our hearts.

Tomorrow he will be 2. I know there will many years after this, but he has really turned from my baby J to my toddler J. He has true likes and dislikes. He knows who he wants to watch on TV and what he likes to eat. He has a favorite matchbox car and his tigger he likes to sleep with. He has to have his feet covered when he sleeps along with a sippy cup with a bit of juice. He wont let me leave him to sleep unless I read him at least 2 books and one has to be ‘Mama, Mama. Papa, Papa’. He wears an 81/2 shoe and he wears 2T shirts. He is tall and skinny and loves to jump all the time. His girlfriend is Shayna that he loves to hug her and plummet her to the ground every time. His favorite fruit is a banana and his favorite food is Dunkin Donuts’ munchkins. If you ask him what he wants for dinner he will say ‘french fries, ketchup.’ Maybe not in that order. He has an oversized Tonka dump truck that he drives all over the house, all day long. He always asks for daddy after he wakes from his naps and has quite a fit when I tell him he is working.

What this child doesn’t know is how much he has taught me in these past two years. I believe the biggest lesson he has taught me is patience. He has showed me that no matter how exhausted you are, you still have a little bit of energy left somewhere in there. He has made me appreciate such little things that normally one would take for granted. But mostly, he has shown me love so deep and so strong, I would give my life for it. For that, I have to say, Thank You, Baby J. Happy Birthday and I love you from the depths of my heart.

Thursday, February 9, 2006

It certainly sucks, but you blow

Today I was drowned with errands and decided when my friend called me to go to an indoor playground for Baby J to play with his girlfriend and her twin brother for 2 hours I just had to go. My husband decided that sleeping late constitutes him to stay home and work from the comfort of the basement in his jammies. That’s the life, right? Well, when he is home, I get very little done. He spends hours on the phone with conference calls and J seems to think that his mother is dispensable when his father is anywhere in the house. Well, I am good for the diaper changes and juice on demand, but daddy is more fun. When this happens, I need to get out of the house and I just didn’t feel like taking Baby J to the bank teller and the mail place and anywhere else I had to be.

After a few tantrums and a complete meltdown at the playground, I took J to my fathers house to drop off a ton of stuff to store there. It gave grandpa and baby some time together as they fought over whether the cat food should go in or out of the container. Guess who won that argument? When it was time to leave I had to tear him away from the cat food (Baby J, not my father) and practically pin him down to get him in the car so we can go home to eat lunch. Oh, the screaming!

A great benefit of having the husband home during the week is that I can put J down for his nap, leave the monitor with him and make sure I am back within 2 hours. I get a great 2 hour break! I can go to the bank, mail a few packages, food shop, I can even run in a meadow. I am free from a child that will make the nerves in my neck tense up and make any childless person thank their lord for not being me.

So I had to get both of my vacuums fixed. The upright’s roller didn’t spin and the canister smelled really bad when I used it. So I went to get them fixed at a local appliance repair place and expected to pay a bit to have them looked at and fixed and I’d walk out of there with something to use whether it was one of mine or a loaner. Instead I am told that both of my vacuums are for crap and that I need to buy this super duper, professional quality vacuum that would suck the eyeballs out of my head if I needed it to do so. So while this barely 20 year old moron is trying to sell me a vacuum and trying to make me feel like Ralph Kramden from the Honeymooners (remember that episode?) I am starting to get pissed off. I don’t usually get pissed off. I do tend to become the sucker buyer because I can’t say no to a good salesman. This guy probably was a bad salesman because he couldn’t get me to buy his product. One thing I have learned from my husband, who was back at home with his feet up on his desk probably surfing the internet for the next car he wants to buy, was to never buy on the spot. Yes, this was a great product, but this guy doesn’t know my financial situation. He doesn’t know if I can afford a new vacuum. Yea, I might need a new vacuum because mine are crapola. I could have stolen these two and brought them in to be fixed just to sell them for 20 bucks for a heroin fix. I kept telling him that I needed to talk to my husband before I purchase something this expensive. It was obvious the moron wasn’t married or had a significant other. You don’t just go and buy an $800 vacuum on a whim, yet a $1500 one either.

The moron pissed me off so bad that I actually said to him, “If you are not going to fix the ones I brought in, then I will take my business elsewhere. I need to get home and I am not listening to your song and dance. If you keep pushing me, you will guarantee that I would NEVER buy your product and make sure none of my friends do either!” What you need to understand is that I never talk like that. Those words were from me listening to my husband do ‘his thing’ when it comes to dealing with people. I can never stand my ground or be a bitch to a stranger. Maybe to my husband or an ex-boyfriend that thought it was smart to question my beliefs or my favorite color. The moron suddenly apologized and went about to look at my two piece of crap that would never pick up a single piece of dirt and fixed them, free of charge.

I’m so proud of myself. I came home and ran down to the husband to tell him my story and there he was, feet up surfing the net for the next car he wanted to buy.

Monday, February 6, 2006

You would never know a farm animal if it hit you in the face

Naptime is usually an event that I look forward to daily. That’s when I am free from a clingy, opinionated, stubborn yet cute as can be toddler. Sometimes I take a nap, search my message boards, clean (ack! Did I just say that?), etc.

Lately baby J has been quite the entertainment when I leave him to sleep. After I have read about 20 books and attempted to cover his feet with his sea creature blanket from gymboree about a billon times, I finally sneak out. Some of the time he will test to see if I will come back in after he throws his sippy overboard. Not only does this instant sleep inducer get thrown out of the crib, it’s thrown on the side against the wall, so I have to move the furniture to get it. He is slowly learning that is not going to get me to come back in and get him.

Today after I left him I heard him drinking and being nice and peaceful. Drinking his cup, feet covered and holding his classic Tigger under one arm. I suddenly hear his empty cup go flying through the room and hit something on the other side. I turn to the Baby J Room channel on my TV and I see him sitting up chatting to himself. He seems to be flipping through a book and started to make all sorts of animal noises.

“Neigh, Neigh”
“Moo, Moo, Moo, moo, moo, moo moo”
“yeow, yeow”
“woof woof”
“a doo doo do” (this is the sound a rooster makes in J language)

As he flips to a new page, a new sound comes out. And with each sound his tone got louder and louder. You would think that he is hiding a whole farm under his crib and pulls it out at bedtime when he is all alone just to freak out his parents. I run downstairs to get the husband to show him what’s going on and by the time I went down and up the stairs, he had become fast asleep. This child has to be possessed.

Tuesday, January 24, 2006

Its a new experience every time

Baby J is not the easiest kid to go shopping with in any kind of store from clothing to food. I don’t think any toddler is capable to be an easy shopping companion and if they are, you better get that kid checked out. I certainly don’t remember the last time I went shopping and was actually able to look at what I put in my cart.

So this evening after a big struggle with getting a few bites of pizza into the kids’ tummy and washing it down with my soda, I decided to take him to the supermarket to pick up some necessities. You know, milk, bread and some chocolate. I typically go after he goes to bed so I can take my time and read some labels. However, since the husband is snowboarding somewhere in the state of Massachusetts for a few days the rest of the family has to fend for themselves. I do have to admit, J is not that terrible if I go quickly and I let him push the cart instead of confining him to it. He calls it a ‘push’. Everytime he sees a cart he runs over to it and chants ‘push push push’ until I let him or drag him away kicking and screaming like I was tearing him away from Elmo.

So we walk into the Super Stop and Shop with our chosen cart being pushed by both of us. I plan out a route that would take us down the aisles that were necessary and as quickly as possible. He did really great. Helped me push the cart, did some shopping for me. He thought we needed fabric softener and some mouse traps. He even started to clean the floors with a broom he found. One of the employees offered him a job.

We go down an aisle to get his overnight diapers which we ran out of today and were in desperate need of. I hate changing his sheets and anyone who has changed the sheets on a crib mattress can understand. In the same aisle is the housewares so on the way to the diapers, he finds something that he thought was a hat. You have to understand, if it looks like it can fit on your head, it’s a hat. So he is trailing behind me and I am watching him put this black, odd thing on his head and trying to balance it there. Holding his hands out as it was gently placed and him rolling his eyes up so high as if he can see it there. It was the bottom to a plunger. I just couldn’t stop laughing and neither could the other lady in the aisle pretending not to see the sillyness.

The rest of the shopping experience was filled with pointing out colors which most of his exclamations where wrong and J pointing to me and making sure that everyone in the store knew I was his mommy. At checkout I hand my keys to the cashier and trap J in the little aisle while I unload the cart. So he grabs a bunch of new things for me to purchase and sneaks them onto the belt. A few I was able to catch and put away before they were scanned, thank god. I mean, what am I going to do with rubber bands or pepper spray. As I finish and pay I am struggling with him as he is starting to really get antsy and acting out. He starts to toss the candy bars on the ground and I manage to get all but one of them. As we are walking out I see him handing me a wrapper as he states ‘Hold dis’. As I am trying to figure out what he has he starts to eat it. Its one of those candy bars with the mini M&M’s in it. Its was 8:20 pm and bedtime was less than an hour away. He was covered in chocolate before I can get near him. In an attempt to get him to eat less of it and without taking it away completely creating a scene displaying what can actually happen when you do take candy away from a child I ask him for a bite. I take the biggest bite I could possibly have taken. I am chewing and thinking that it would be really yummy and chocolatey, I taste one flavor that I dispise. I grab the wrapper that was handed to me and I look at it carefully. It was made with PEANUT BUTTER M&M’s!!!!! Baby J hasn’t eaten peanut butter or peanuts yet. I am alone and would never try a new food. What if he has a reaction? What if he is highly allergic and I can’t get him to the hospital in time (its 2 minutes down the road)? Then I just gave up and said to myself, ‘well, he has had half of it already, I might as well let him have the whole darned thing!’

Thursday, January 19, 2006

I love HGTV

“For my birthday, I want a table saw. You know how much I could do with a table saw?”
“Uhhh, table saws scare me!”
“Yea but not if you know how to use it. I think I know how to use it.”
“You're so butch!”

Wednesday, January 11, 2006

Plumbing anyone?

Did you know that every house tells a story. Some tell you about the lives of great people growing up or the inspiration to a book or a painting.

We were talking about a friend of mine who’s house has such a great story. Well, in a designer’s eye, it’s a great story. How he got a craftsman to do a perfect pattern stain on the beautiful hardwood floors and how it took over a month to do. How the process of the flooring in the bathroom and kitchen was done with acid and other materials. The tiles were imported and saved from a temple in Israel. How it took over 2 months to put in a fiber optic lit ceiling in his sons nursery room before he was born. All complete with shooting stars and glimmering moons. I do have to admit, their house is just stunning.

My house, well it tells a different story. I can walk through the house and tell you things like (in chronological order) ‘this is the dining room that had more water damage than the Titanic under the drop ceiling’ and ‘this is the bathroom I had to redo because the plumbing was done incorrectly before we moved in and caused a flood in the basement’ and ‘this is the basement where my landscaper left the hose on in the window well and flooded the basement (again)’ and ‘this is where the plumber soldered the pipe and started the fire’ and ‘this is where the fire burned through the walls for 3 hours before we even knew we had a fire’ and ‘this is the original sewer line from the ‘40s. Can’t you tell, its cast iron and it broke off and fell to the ground and flooded our basement a year after we restored the house from the fire and now my basement is all poopie’

I officially declare that we had bought a money pit. My next house is not going to have any plumbing. We will use a well and an outhouse. I think we will be safe then, don’t you think?

Tuesday, January 10, 2006

What NOT to listen to when your child is in the car

Being a stay at home mom I have been restricted from many things that were in my non-baby life. For one is radio and everything for my listening pleasure. Yes, for the past 2 years I have been listening to and singing songs at he top of my lungs like ‘The Wheels on the Bus’ and ‘The Itsy Bitsy Spider’. Every now and again I tune into my regular hard rock station and catch up on some of the music of today.

Yesterday was the Premier of Howard Stern on Sirius radio. It was very exciting for me for many reasons. I like him. He can now be uncensored and say what’s really on his mind. I do admit I do not like everything he says, but he didn’t get where he is without stirring some pots on the way. He IS the King of All Media and I want to be a part of that.

So yesterday while J and I were on our way to a gym class, I tried to catch some of his show on the radio. For our 10 minute ride my child was exposed to a world of adult conversation (well, if you can say Howards show is ‘adult’) instead of his typical happy music. Today I had to pry my baby boy away from the TV during the skit where cookie monster reveals the letter of the day. The whole way to and into the car J kept yelling for his Elmo and Big Bird and any of the characters he thought might save him from the confines of his safety seat and a ride from hell to a class that he forgets that he loves. I had left the channel on from the day before and was happy that I got another chance to get a glimpse of the show. We were on our merry way and I am listening to Howard while J was pointing out all the trees and buses that we passed.

Howard was playing music clips that they couldn’t play on terrestrial radio. So suddenly the beginnings of the song ‘C is for Cookie’ comes on and I was so intrigued and for a moment forgot where my place was and the song continues. ‘C is for Cu-uuunt, that’s good enough for me! C is for …’ Well, you get the point. In just a matter of seconds I just wanted to burst out laughing and what a horrible parody it was. I mean, I know his show is crass and raunchy, but this was over the top. Taking a child’s song and just replacing a single word. C’mon, I thought they had more talent than that. It turns out that Howard felt the same way and made fun of the creator saying that they only made that parody just because they could air the word.

In this very moment I remember where I am and I look back and my innocent little boy who’s ears have been defiled. He looked just as surprised as me and I actually think I heard him say the word. OH MY GOD! Did my child just say that word? He did and he smiles. So in a split second I start to sing the song as it was meant to be sung in hopes I can rid the word from his file book in that very busy brain of his. Hoping that me correcting it would make the little people in there say ‘wait, that wasn’t a new word, we just heard it wrong!’

Monday, January 9, 2006

The most important word in our vocabulary

Baby J has finally discovered what the meaning of the word ‘no’ is. So lately
The answer to every question is the notable ‘NO!’. Do you want to eat lunch? “NO!” Do you want to pee-pee on the potty? “NO!” Do you want to go take a nap? “NO!” Do you want me to change you really smelly, nasty, diaper rash causing diaper? “NO!, NO!, NO!”

The ABC’s are only recited with daddy. When mommy tries to do them with him the only letters out of his mouth are N and O put together to make the word… “NO!”

“J, is this bus Red?”
“Is this bus Blue?”
“Is this bus Yellow?”
“NO!, NO!, NO!”

For Hanukah J got a cool shape-sorting toy from Discovery Toys. It’s nice and simple. I caught him playing with it one morning while he was supposed to be watching his daily Elmo fix and as he would take each shape he would run it over the openings and if the shape didn’t fit, he would shake his head and say “NO!”

When he has pancakes or one of those pancakes I make that has all sorts of yummy stuff in it like grated carrots or squash, he will put his hand over it as if it were emanating a life force and say in the most curious way, “Hot?” A short pause as he concentrates on his ever consequential question. Then a sudden outburst in the cutest little voice that simply says “No.” He then dunks his pancake in a sea of syrup and displays the biggest grin and says “Yummy!”

Sunday, January 8, 2006

I might be a dork…

...but not dorky enough to wear anything like this sweater.

Now I thought that since I don't celebrate Christmas and I am not too fond of the winter, I would be free from these horrid things that no one with even a half a brain would wear in public. Nope. I had a friend point it out to me that I just had to have it. She either doesnt like me or wears it herself. And if it is the latter, I will just pretend that I don't know her anymore.

Friday, January 6, 2006

In reference to my New Years’ post

“What about us do you think pegs us as dorks?”
“Lots of things, I cant list all of them.”