What's not fair today:
I lost the lid to my pink nail polish and now Daddy is going to hide it.
(yesterday)I wanted to eat two cupcakes but you said I got too jacked up on one and I was not jacked up - come and see my show, wanna see my show? Watch me do my show! WATCH MAMA, WATCH!! ARE YOU WATCHING???
Friday, August 18, 2006
Thursday, August 17, 2006
Did I mention about the crawling?
Hard to believe he would earn a nickname like 'the mangler', isn't it?
Would you call this child abuse?
So I am dealing with a new parenting issue for me. I live with a sweet, smiling, adoring, drooling, utterly dependent, pre-inappropriately obsessive infant mangler wolf-child. Shredder. Hmmm...that last part? I don't like it. No. Not so much.
My feral monster is so deceptively packaged, I don't even want to send him back out into the wild. Rather, tame him to live here with us civilized hugging folk, with the ones who bear (and bare!) breasts laden full of milk and allow merciless beard-tuggings. In a family bed, dude. Do you realize how lucky you are here? Do you want to mess with this? Seriously.
He is so friggin cute he is still with us, miraculously not having been swatted into submission by his fed up and bloodied boobalicious mama.
I think we have a child abuse issue on our hands here.
My child is abusing me.
He suddenly seems to need all this extra stimuli to get to sleep (in addition to his devoted draining of the mammaries). So, while trying to stage what should be a relaxing and bonding bedtime, his little razor-sharp nails have found that scooping up tiny little reggiano-type threads out of my chest and abdominal area are the most soothing way for him to fall into slumber.
What I am trying oh-so-delicately to say here is:
THE LITTLE MANGLER WILL NOT STOP PINCHING AND SCRATCHING ME!
Seriously, I am almost driven to buy something like this because I cannot stand to be maimed so generously and he is not willing to put himself to sleep by other methods so peacefully.
I do not know what is up with the little man. He has always been an easily agitated nurser; too easily distracted and very demanding with the right mood for a good bedtime meal (for instance, a restaurant where nobody else at all minds but the kid tearing at the blanket being lovingly tucked around his chin and his mama's breast will NOT do), but this latest is bordering on insanity. For me.
For a while it was grabbing the skin around my breast closest to his mouth - which would also be as close to my nips as his hungry snortling would allow him. I soon put a stop to that with my screams and refusal to give him any more milk right now.
Then he moved down, pretending to clumsily unhook a bra that isn't even there. He pinched. I flinched. He grabbed. I grabbed. He woke up from his half-sleep and screamed until I sacrificed another breast for the sake of some sleep for him and a feww goddamned minutes of blogging (or Deadwood) for me. He latched on and within seconds resumed his rhythmic attempts to maim me, which have now gone from pinching to scratching. The scratching for some reason seems to have become part of his ritual for falling asleep. I do not like this ritual and I resist this. My breasts have gotten the message as well.
This has gone on and on to mean that, while nursing, I have one hand to grab at least one of his two determined hellbent for blood razor-wielding hands and restrain it in my own. He does not like this at all - it appears to break up his rhythm that takes him into slumberland. This is immensely frustrating for me, as it is a vicious circle. Every time I interrupt him, it means more minutes until sleep actually comes, since he and I are fighting each other with a little thumbkin battle under the covers.
My very wise British neighbor who recently vbac'd her fourth kid into our neighborhood commented thusly, "Ohfuck that sounds just like Nico (her 2nd). He went from Buddha to this growling sort of testosterone possessed animal. What you've got on your hands is a scorpio male."
(jesus she is right)
What to do with the little mangler?!
My feral monster is so deceptively packaged, I don't even want to send him back out into the wild. Rather, tame him to live here with us civilized hugging folk, with the ones who bear (and bare!) breasts laden full of milk and allow merciless beard-tuggings. In a family bed, dude. Do you realize how lucky you are here? Do you want to mess with this? Seriously.
He is so friggin cute he is still with us, miraculously not having been swatted into submission by his fed up and bloodied boobalicious mama.
I think we have a child abuse issue on our hands here.
My child is abusing me.He suddenly seems to need all this extra stimuli to get to sleep (in addition to his devoted draining of the mammaries). So, while trying to stage what should be a relaxing and bonding bedtime, his little razor-sharp nails have found that scooping up tiny little reggiano-type threads out of my chest and abdominal area are the most soothing way for him to fall into slumber.
What I am trying oh-so-delicately to say here is:
THE LITTLE MANGLER WILL NOT STOP PINCHING AND SCRATCHING ME!
Seriously, I am almost driven to buy something like this because I cannot stand to be maimed so generously and he is not willing to put himself to sleep by other methods so peacefully.
I do not know what is up with the little man. He has always been an easily agitated nurser; too easily distracted and very demanding with the right mood for a good bedtime meal (for instance, a restaurant where nobody else at all minds but the kid tearing at the blanket being lovingly tucked around his chin and his mama's breast will NOT do), but this latest is bordering on insanity. For me.
For a while it was grabbing the skin around my breast closest to his mouth - which would also be as close to my nips as his hungry snortling would allow him. I soon put a stop to that with my screams and refusal to give him any more milk right now.
Then he moved down, pretending to clumsily unhook a bra that isn't even there. He pinched. I flinched. He grabbed. I grabbed. He woke up from his half-sleep and screamed until I sacrificed another breast for the sake of some sleep for him and a feww goddamned minutes of blogging (or Deadwood) for me. He latched on and within seconds resumed his rhythmic attempts to maim me, which have now gone from pinching to scratching. The scratching for some reason seems to have become part of his ritual for falling asleep. I do not like this ritual and I resist this. My breasts have gotten the message as well.
This has gone on and on to mean that, while nursing, I have one hand to grab at least one of his two determined hellbent for blood razor-wielding hands and restrain it in my own. He does not like this at all - it appears to break up his rhythm that takes him into slumberland. This is immensely frustrating for me, as it is a vicious circle. Every time I interrupt him, it means more minutes until sleep actually comes, since he and I are fighting each other with a little thumbkin battle under the covers.
My very wise British neighbor who recently vbac'd her fourth kid into our neighborhood commented thusly, "Ohfuck that sounds just like Nico (her 2nd). He went from Buddha to this growling sort of testosterone possessed animal. What you've got on your hands is a scorpio male."
(jesus she is right)
What to do with the little mangler?!
Tuesday, August 15, 2006
Someone should really do that
My friend and I were talking this morning about random kid things, and as usual, the conversation somehow steered itself towards sex. Oh I remember now. We were talking about how tired we feel after the kids go to bed and when on earth there is ever time to have it. And is anybody we know getting any.
Her Brilliant Scheme:
"There should be a babysitter up here that works on Saturdays and Sundays in two-hour increments. She could work only weekends, charge a nice price and just do the circuit. Someone should really do that."
"Yeah, but she would really need to advertise that was what she was up to, you know? Some people I don't know might be afraid to admit they have sex. She would have to make a big stink about coming in the house only to stock up on snacks, then leaving and not coming back with the kids for two whole hours and all that," was my wise reply.
We are always thinking up great ideas for someone else to help make our lives better, easier. Make no mistake, we will pay them. But we want them to deliver the goods. Maybe we need to put an ad in our local tattle and services rag.
I only know one friend who outright tells her sitter that she and her husband are going to have sex and so could she (the sitter, or, childcare provider if you need for this to be PC as I once was when I once was one) 'please keep Bushki busy for the duration and without interruption if you don't mind' (what sitter would after that?). She doesn't say 'napping' or' gettin busy' or 'umm, taking some personal time' or 'relationship building' or even discreetly suggest they go elsewhere. She just makes it perfectly clear.
She never, ever gets interrupted.
By the sitter (provider) or Bushki.
So I say kudos to the attentive entrepreneur in our community who figures out this little goldmine. But here's a tip: Give your business cards out to the daddies. Market to the daddies. I promise you, they will hire you and word will travel ohsofast. And believe me, they will call. Because my friend-who-shall-remain-nameless (who thought up this great idea) AND I agree, that if we (as in, the mamas) were the ones to call for a sitter who billed herself as a 2 hour emergency sort of respite step-in caregiver, it would probably be to take our kids to urgent care, OR perhaps to replenish the withering pantry with fresh eggs and wine from TJ's say, because the kid was sick with chicken pox or monkey pox or coxsackie and we couldn't take her with us. I mean, if I'm going to pay someone to do it, it's going to be a real emergency. I'm just sayin.
But if Dh was the one to arrange it all, if he actually went to the trouble to call, arrange, hire and pay...well, I would be so touched that he would probably need far less than two hours to get what he was after.
Oh yeah!
What's not fair today:
Seattle is too far away and I miss Frankie.
Also, I wanted more candy on the plane and I ate the whole candy necklace while we were waiting by the gate, and mama wouldn't give me more.
Her Brilliant Scheme:
"There should be a babysitter up here that works on Saturdays and Sundays in two-hour increments. She could work only weekends, charge a nice price and just do the circuit. Someone should really do that."
"Yeah, but she would really need to advertise that was what she was up to, you know? Some people I don't know might be afraid to admit they have sex. She would have to make a big stink about coming in the house only to stock up on snacks, then leaving and not coming back with the kids for two whole hours and all that," was my wise reply.
We are always thinking up great ideas for someone else to help make our lives better, easier. Make no mistake, we will pay them. But we want them to deliver the goods. Maybe we need to put an ad in our local tattle and services rag.
I only know one friend who outright tells her sitter that she and her husband are going to have sex and so could she (the sitter, or, childcare provider if you need for this to be PC as I once was when I once was one) 'please keep Bushki busy for the duration and without interruption if you don't mind' (what sitter would after that?). She doesn't say 'napping' or' gettin busy' or 'umm, taking some personal time' or 'relationship building' or even discreetly suggest they go elsewhere. She just makes it perfectly clear.
She never, ever gets interrupted.
By the sitter (provider) or Bushki.
So I say kudos to the attentive entrepreneur in our community who figures out this little goldmine. But here's a tip: Give your business cards out to the daddies. Market to the daddies. I promise you, they will hire you and word will travel ohsofast. And believe me, they will call. Because my friend-who-shall-remain-nameless (who thought up this great idea) AND I agree, that if we (as in, the mamas) were the ones to call for a sitter who billed herself as a 2 hour emergency sort of respite step-in caregiver, it would probably be to take our kids to urgent care, OR perhaps to replenish the withering pantry with fresh eggs and wine from TJ's say, because the kid was sick with chicken pox or monkey pox or coxsackie and we couldn't take her with us. I mean, if I'm going to pay someone to do it, it's going to be a real emergency. I'm just sayin.
But if Dh was the one to arrange it all, if he actually went to the trouble to call, arrange, hire and pay...well, I would be so touched that he would probably need far less than two hours to get what he was after.
Oh yeah!
What's not fair today:
Seattle is too far away and I miss Frankie.
Also, I wanted more candy on the plane and I ate the whole candy necklace while we were waiting by the gate, and mama wouldn't give me more.
Monday, August 07, 2006
What's the nap worth to you?
So when I was trying to pack for the trip, I found myself rifling through piles of laundry to pack for three people only 4 hours before needing to leave for the airport. Supergirl had finally been sent off on a desperation playdate and I had already spent 90 minutes trying to put Bubbles/the dragon down for a nap, unsuccessfully.
Dh came in to run a bit of interference and managed to get the little squaller (squalor?) asleep. He swaggered down the steps pretty damn proud of himself and proceeded to ogle 'the girls'. I thought that was pretty funny, since I had to leave FOR THE AIRPORT and still pack.
He made what I am sure he thought was a tempting offer, come on babe - 15 minutes and then I'll watch the kids later so you can pack.
A note to any man who (very unlikely) may be reading this: '15 minutes' is not a romantic or even appealing come on. You can thank me later.
Well, needless to say I managed to cough up a refusal and I did get packed just in the nick of time, and yes, I did have to live with my decision.
So, while I have been here in Seattle, dearsweetJulia has been over the top in her parenting expertise and has even managed to get the little Bubbles to sleep for a nap. I am typing this quickly, because any minute Julia will come down the stairs, nod that he is indeed asleep, and demand her share of sexual favors. Sigh.
What's not fair today: FrankieDoodle fell asleep before dinner and I wanted to sit next to him at dinner.
Dh came in to run a bit of interference and managed to get the little squaller (squalor?) asleep. He swaggered down the steps pretty damn proud of himself and proceeded to ogle 'the girls'. I thought that was pretty funny, since I had to leave FOR THE AIRPORT and still pack.
He made what I am sure he thought was a tempting offer, come on babe - 15 minutes and then I'll watch the kids later so you can pack.
A note to any man who (very unlikely) may be reading this: '15 minutes' is not a romantic or even appealing come on. You can thank me later.
Well, needless to say I managed to cough up a refusal and I did get packed just in the nick of time, and yes, I did have to live with my decision.
So, while I have been here in Seattle, dearsweetJulia has been over the top in her parenting expertise and has even managed to get the little Bubbles to sleep for a nap. I am typing this quickly, because any minute Julia will come down the stairs, nod that he is indeed asleep, and demand her share of sexual favors. Sigh.
What's not fair today: FrankieDoodle fell asleep before dinner and I wanted to sit next to him at dinner.
The Boss Of Seattle (I know her)
So here we are in the land of...well, Seattle. I don't know any of the local nicknames for the city. But I am fortunate enough to be staying with the most knowledgeable Boss Of Seattle. How do I know this? Well, I have known Julia a very long time (if I said we were old college friends and that we have been buds for 20 years that would probably be saying too much.) and I can tell you that she is very knowledgeable AND very bossy. So I was not surprised when Supergirl and FrankieDoodle (Julia's youngest of her 3 gorgeous boys, FrankieDoodle turned 4 yesterday at a very cool Seattle Beach party. yes. beach.) were swinging the day after we got here and I overheard their conversation:
Supergirl: Well, your mom might be the boss of you but she is not the boss of everything.
FrankieDoodle: She is too.
SG: Well maybe she is the boss of everything, but she is not the boss of me.
FD: Yes she is too.
SG: Well maybe she is but she is not the boss of Seattle.
FrankieDoodle let a good 30 seconds pass before delivering his thoughtful response:
Well, actually, she is.
Thank goodness we are staying with an expert! It's sure to be a fun adventure (considering the number of empty wine bottles thus far!).
And now for my new regular segment about Supergirl's life...
What's not fair today (yesterday):
FrankieDoodle was all excited about having a sleepover in the bunkbeds and now he's not.
What's not fair today (today):
I had to carry my scooter up the hill from the playground and you helped FrankieDoodle with his tractor.
Supergirl: Well, your mom might be the boss of you but she is not the boss of everything.
FrankieDoodle: She is too.
SG: Well maybe she is the boss of everything, but she is not the boss of me.
FD: Yes she is too.
SG: Well maybe she is but she is not the boss of Seattle.
FrankieDoodle let a good 30 seconds pass before delivering his thoughtful response:
Well, actually, she is.
Thank goodness we are staying with an expert! It's sure to be a fun adventure (considering the number of empty wine bottles thus far!).
And now for my new regular segment about Supergirl's life...
What's not fair today (yesterday):
FrankieDoodle was all excited about having a sleepover in the bunkbeds and now he's not.
What's not fair today (today):
I had to carry my scooter up the hill from the playground and you helped FrankieDoodle with his tractor.
Wednesday, August 02, 2006
Weaning! Just around the corner?
Ohferchrissakes! I have been trying to write (blog) about my tell-all BlogHer experiences, but the little dragon that has posessed my baby has another agenda. Tell THAT to Alaska Air, who hath issued my tickets to Seattle- where I am trying to go on a trip with just the babes to visit lovely old college debauchery mate for TEN whole freaking days. (whoo-hooo!)
And tell THAT to the family van, which betrayed me by stranding me 30 miles from home in a Tarjay parking lot (yes, this is the distance I suffer to shop smart) for hours with said babes (of the young vs. hot variety) until I was rescued by kind friends who kept and fed me until Dh got the message (FOUR HOURS LATER).
And tell that to the fresh open tooth wound under my left nipple (right to you, left to me) caused by afore-mentioned teething dragon. OW!
OW OW OW OW OW OW OW OW OW OW OW!!
As you can plainly see, I am in no mood for gossiping, waxing OR waning.
All I have to say is OW. Fucking OW.
Okay, and penis. Since I promised.
And tell THAT to the family van, which betrayed me by stranding me 30 miles from home in a Tarjay parking lot (yes, this is the distance I suffer to shop smart) for hours with said babes (of the young vs. hot variety) until I was rescued by kind friends who kept and fed me until Dh got the message (FOUR HOURS LATER).
And tell that to the fresh open tooth wound under my left nipple (right to you, left to me) caused by afore-mentioned teething dragon. OW!
OW OW OW OW OW OW OW OW OW OW OW!!
As you can plainly see, I am in no mood for gossiping, waxing OR waning.
All I have to say is OW. Fucking OW.
Okay, and penis. Since I promised.
Sunday, July 30, 2006
Less Blogging, More Mommy (and a gratuitous boob shot)
I have some less mommy blogging and more supergirl needs mommy time today, but thanks to my new friend Elizabeth from Table4Five for the great new header idea! Ha!
We claim our right to use the word penis liberally and without restraint!
I don't think I have been in one place with so many brilliant, wonderful, awesome and funny women in at least...well, EVER!
I'm not name-dropping. I will tellall some about only those I actually met. But not right now. Right now I have to go play something that involves pink plastic ponies, oh save me for the love of all that is sacred.
For now, I will leave you with this shot of my nearly illegal cleavage. Enjoy them - they're only temporary, and I sure am!
We claim our right to use the word penis liberally and without restraint!
I don't think I have been in one place with so many brilliant, wonderful, awesome and funny women in at least...well, EVER!
I'm not name-dropping. I will tell
For now, I will leave you with this shot of my nearly illegal cleavage. Enjoy them - they're only temporary, and I sure am!
Saturday, July 29, 2006
Mind full.
Wow.
Back home now. From BlogHer.
Wow.
Speechless (almost).
So many new friends. So many gorgeously giant brains. So many mammaries! So much inspiration, so much to process, so much fun.
My new best roommate in the world, and the woman who convinced me to go to BlogHer, was none other than the amazingly great prize winning writer, Jenijen. Who will certainly achieve sainthood for offering to share her room with A BABY (and me too) after being able to leave her own four at home. My deepest thanks, dearest one.
I think we had a little too much fun nearly peeing ourselves with hysterical giggles at- I think it was - 3 am, poor little Bubbles. Actually, he was quite the partier himself and stayed up rockin it with the flirting and the ladies until most little 9 month old babies were already fast asleep.
Check out his hot new girlfriend, Adrianna.
Does that kid look like he had fun, or what?
Back home now. From BlogHer.
Wow.
Speechless (almost).
So many new friends. So many gorgeously giant brains. So many mammaries! So much inspiration, so much to process, so much fun.
My new best roommate in the world, and the woman who convinced me to go to BlogHer, was none other than the amazingly great prize winning writer, Jenijen. Who will certainly achieve sainthood for offering to share her room with A BABY (and me too) after being able to leave her own four at home. My deepest thanks, dearest one.
I think we had a little too much fun nearly peeing ourselves with hysterical giggles at- I think it was - 3 am, poor little Bubbles. Actually, he was quite the partier himself and stayed up rockin it with the flirting and the ladies until most little 9 month old babies were already fast asleep.
Check out his hot new girlfriend, Adrianna.
Does that kid look like he had fun, or what?
Thursday, July 27, 2006
I think I need to go out more often
So, on my way out the door last night to the pre-BlogHer Mommybloggers dinner, after many hugs and kisses had been delivered, I called out my goodbyes to Supergirl.
"WAIT! MAMA! WAIT! WAIT!!" (can you read the urgency?)
"What, sweetie? What is it? Mama needs to go."
"WAIT! Before you leave, could you please tell Daddy that you are going so he knows to take care of me?"
Oy.
"WAIT! MAMA! WAIT! WAIT!!" (can you read the urgency?)
"What, sweetie? What is it? Mama needs to go."
"WAIT! Before you leave, could you please tell Daddy that you are going so he knows to take care of me?"
Oy.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
