March, 2012
Archive

  • Is Elmo Made of Crack?

    Is Elmo made of crack cocaine?  Kids get so addicted to Elmo I am convinced he is laced with some sort of amphetamine… it is impossible to be that obsessed with something as a sober person.  Munch has never even seen Elmo in action because I am afraid if I exposed her to him moving around on a screen her head would implode.  All the contact she has had with Elmo is on her big girl potty seat, and on her nighttime diapers where there is a small quarter-sized picture of him, and yet she is totally fanatical.

    She will hold her potty seat and scream “I found Elmo” over and over again until I feel like my life is a David Lynch movie.  And now when I change her diaper and try and put her brown-hippy-paper towel- 7th generation ones she screams in protest….

    “No!!! I want Elmo diapi!!  Elmo diapi!!!”

    “But Munch, we only use your pampers at night…. We use these burlap sacks during the day because it is better for the environment.  Don’t you want to grow up in a world with trees?”

    “Nooooooooooo! Elmoooooooooooooo!”

    So I decided the best thing was to get her an Elmo doll to see if that calmed things down.  Like how if you catch your kid smoking you make them smoke 10 in a row so they get overexposed, barf, and never want too see a cigarette again.  (Or they totally hooked because their blood has been replaced with nicotine but whatever….) But of course all these modern toys have batteries that make a simple doll do 7 different things including answering your emails and unloading the dishwasher.  So this freaking Elmo doll talks by pushing his nose, and now the soundtrack to my life is that disturbing little voice wanting to be hugged, tickled, and molested all day.

    (PS…. My friend Grace told me there is a documentary on the guy that create Elmo and the intention behind the puppet’s essence is pure love and physical affection- awwwwwww I get it now!)

    Munch nodding out on heroine laced Elmo

     

    March 30, 2012 • 1 year old, Baby Gear, Baby Products • Views: 73

  • Letting Go of “Letting Go”

    Most of the time when you are upset about something, people will try and talk you out of it.  They will remind you how things could be worse, that it will all blow over, or how at least its not festering warts in both eyes.  I do it too.  I always try and convince someone they shouldn’t be feeling what they are feeling because their being upset is boring.   It is not bad advice to let negative emotions pass through you like wind out your ass, but when I am the one feeling the pain it never makes me feel better when people tell me to let it go.

    Dealing with my own mental anguish I started observing The Munch and how quickly she lets emotions go.  She will explode into an episode of rage and tears because her Elmo doll is stuck under the couch, then act like nothing happened as soon as she gets it free.  I may tell her not to throw her blueberries and she will get furious, collapse on the floor in anguish, slam her head repeatedly, but then quickly moves on once she finds a half eaten popsicle stuck to the bottom of a chair.  She can fall down the stairs smashing her face, but after 3 minutes of hugging is back to playing with her blocks as blood cakes to her face.

    Children are so resilient.  They are like miniature Buddhas who have mastered the art of non-attachment.  When and why do we lose that?

    But then I also realized that my child is a maniac who has no boundaries.  She isn’t exactly learning from her mistakes yet, and in fact will do something pretty idiotic, cry about it, then try again 20 minutes later.  Maybe part of holding on to emotions is so we can really process and understand the life lessons our suffering teaches.  That although it may not be healthy to dwell on your pain excessively, part of maturing is allowing the reality of your actions to impact you so you act differently next time.

    You would look at this face and think I just told her I purposely gave her kitten feline AIDS….but no… she is crying because SHE threw her stuffed monkey down the stairs

    March 29, 2012 • 1 year old, Behavior, Mommy Mind, Musings • Views: 64

  • I am Not Going to Lie To You, I Just Did

    I am a morally flexible person.  I tend to be pretty forgiving when it comes to the complexities of the human condition.  I care more about someone’s capacity to understand their motivation and analyze their behavior than absolutes like never lie, cheat or steal.  I have done all of the above and I am not saying I am proud of it, but I am saying those were some pretty fun times.

    Honesty is a core value that most people have, and an attribute that should be commended.  It is not always easy to tell the truth, and I respect people who are committed to the pursuit.  But even though honesty is admirable, is it always the best strategy?

    I used to assume that lying was something that was socially conditioned rather than an innate trait, but now I am not so sure.  For example, The Munch is fully aware when she has a poops in her pants.  She can feel it, and often tells me by pointing to her crotch and repeating, “poops” until I do something about it.  It is subtle, but I usually get the message.

    However, sometimes she smells like a porta-potty at a Phish show and I will ask her if she made poops and she will look me dead in the eye and say “no poops.”

    Now I don’t think The Munch is lying like how I did to my parents about why I cleaned their house every time they went away for the weekend (definitely not because I had a party)…. But she is telling me something that she knows is not accurate, she is conscious of her untruth.  She would rather continue playing then deal with me grabbing her ankle and smearing poo all over her thighs until 14 wipes have been used and my standard of clean plummets further.

    Lying is not the most desirable method of communication, but it can be a social necessity.  Sometimes your beloved doesn’t actually want to know what you think of their haircut, but wants your approval.  Is it that bad to let them feel attractive?  It doesn’t even really matter when you are making out because their face is way to close to see anything anyway.  If applying for job you have never done but know you could do well, is it wise to admit your total lack of experience? Embellishing is a lie, but people do it all the time to get people to believe in them.  Ironic yes, stupid no.  Or making up excuses is still in the land of falsehood, but it may also be the best way to get out something you don’t want to do.  Wouldn’t it be better to say you are “busy” rather then “I can’t come to your dinner party because I think your wife is a total cunt and I am inappropriately attracted to your teenage daughter.”  We often lie to ourselves about doing the best we could, trying our hardest, or how that jerk deserved your peeing on the their toothbrush, and if that’s what it takes to sleep at night, is it really a bad thing?

    The Munch isn’t picking up lying from her surroundings, she is just trying to figure out how to navigate the world and get what she wants.  Most people lie because it makes their lives easier, or to protect themselves from potential pain they don’t want to face, not because they are being intentionally malicious.  Yes it is a selfish act, but so is picking your nose and wiping it under your chair, and we are all guilty of that.

    PS… Just kidding!  In the last 5 hours since I wrote this post I have lied to Munch dozens of times! We went to Target and I lied about why we couldn’t by obnoxious toys she wanted, then she found my secret organic gummy worms and I lied and told her they were yucky,  then I had to hide a penny behind my back because she kept putting it in her mouth…  the list goes on and on.  She totally gets it from me!

    “Really mom… an angel will get anally assaulted if you buy me this?”

     

     

    March 28, 2012 • 1 year old, Behavior, Musings • Views: 64

  • Taking the High Road

    I am one of those annoying people who will always advise you to take the high road when dealing with people.  You may tell me a story of how your best friend stole your lover, pissed in your sneakers, knowingly gave you herpes of the hands, and finished your favorite cereal, but I would still tell you to treat them with respect.  A colleague may have stolen your idea, wrote nasty emails, and farted while standing and you were seated, but I would still encourage you not to stoop to their level.  I have been screwed over, taken advantage of, used and abused countless times in my life, and I have always tried to take the higher road. Do you know where that has gotten me?  A road to nowhere.  Note to reader: don’t ask me for advice!

    I have been brainwashed into thinking being “good” is a good idea.  Maybe by society, maybe by my parents, or maybe it is my own stupid nature.  If I want the cookie and you want it too, well looks like your ass is getting fatter because I will let you have it.  That might make me “nice” to be around because I am not a rabid piranha out to get devour everything I can from the world, but it makes me a total sucker too.

    I am in a dilemma right now.  The Munch seems to be a very considerate person and I am not sure I should be encouraging this behavior.  She will share her sandwich if you want some, she lets other children go down the slide first, and she even gave me the half chewed dental floss she likes to suck on when I was sad the other day.  Her sensitive tendencies make her pleasant to be around, but may totally screw her over for her future.

    Maybe I need to start socializing her to be an absolute aggressive bitch.  One of those- take mercy no one -types of people.  Someone who will screw you while you sleep, smack some baby seals around, and win at life!

     

    March 27, 2012 • 1 year old, Behavior, Musings, Parenting • Views: 83

  • Stressed and Depressed

    The problem about being depressed and stressed is you don’t care about other people as much as when you are feeling happy and good.  When things are going well, I am as attentive as a teenage boy under the bleachers of a class of catholic girls without underwear.  But when life keeps slapping me I the face like an angry pimp looking for money, I tend to get a little distracted.

    I get this “fuck the world” attitude where I don’t care about anything.  I stop showering, I wear sweatpants in public, my hair cakes to my face from tears and drool, and I use my toothbrush to clean my computer keyboard while mold multiplies in my mouth.  That is all fine and dandy, but when you apply this approach to raising your kid, they start to develop some bad habits.

    The Munch didn’t want to wear her diaper, so I said fine and she peed on my lap.  My thighs still smell of urine because hey, they were black sweatpants and moisture blends right int.  The Munch wanted to eat her granola on the stairs, so I let her as she poured her entire bowl out on the carpet.  There is still some there for her to snack on two days later because the thought of pulling out the vacuum made as much sense as circumcising myself.   Munch then thought it would be fun to eat dinner in the bath, which it was, until her metabolism kicked in and she pooped.

    I hope to get out of this funk soon before she not only gets used to doing whatever she wants, but I tarnish her fashion sense for life.

    (Notice the all pink monochromatic outfit here while she devours granola mixed with cat hair and lint)

    March 26, 2012 • 1 year old, Mommy Mind, Musings, Parenting • Views: 53

  • I Wanna Be A Teenager Again!

    I found this poem I wrote a bunch of years ago, and I can’t tell if its awesome or totally sucks?  But it makes me laugh to think of myself all full of angst writing poems.  I wanna be a teenager again!  Without responsibility, adult pressures, and the fear of slowly sagging skin.  I miss the innocence, the destructiveness, and the vision to think you can live whatever life you want… like the life of a poet who criticizes society then watches TV and smokes cigarettes!

     

    Cookie cutter cutting you down to size

    Linked arm in arm, you’re a candy coated prize

    Cookie cutter cutting you down to size

    Strangles you with a noose called a tie

     

    Confined in a cubicle pushing your pencil

    Money to motivate, the majority sits still

    Unconcerned of the consequences from your pursuit

    Only substance in life are the ones you abuse

    None of it matters, everything is fine

    You say with a grin, “as long as I get mine”

     

    Cookie cutter cutting you down to size

    Living a life sugar sprinkled with lies

     

    Manufactured mayhem you’re making your mark

    Your biggest problem, finding a place to park

    Marketing mindlessness missing the point

    Absent of imagination sparked by a joint

    Stopping at nothing to fund the perfect life

    Plastic wet dreams of buying the perfect wife

     

    Cookie cutter cutting you down to size

    Strangles you with a noose called a tie

    Cookie cutter cutting you down to size

    Linked arm in arm, you’re a candy coated prize

     

    Masquerading models you’re living the life

    Your ambition is simple, you go under the knife

    Being tan is your plan to find the right husband

    Not caring you don’t read, and your mind has gone bland

    Entertaining yourself with the drama of celebrity

    Devouring the hype, wondering if it will ever be me

     

    Cookie cutter cutting you down to size

    Living a life sugar sprinkled with lies

     

    Starving yourself while the world goes hungry

    Ignoring potential and natural beauty

    Comparing stones and the sight of your bones

    Enhancing your cones, afraid of getting old

    Your creativity conditioned to decorating your house

    Only sense of self through the eyes of your spouse

     

    Cookie cutter cutting you down to size

    Linked arm in arm, you’re a candy coated prize

    Cookie cutter cutting you down to size

    Strangles you with a noose called a tie

     

    For all of you, and you know who you are

    It is not too late to start eating the stars

    Drinking the moon, and sipping the rainbow

    Tickling the world, mind, body, and soul

    Giving your heart to the marmalade madness

    Understanding the subtle nature of sadness

    There is so much more to life than you think

    The mystery of existence behind each blink

    Silence beyond the words we hide behind

    The giggles and wiggles reserved for the kind

    There is always room for you on this side

    The waxing and waning shores of the tide

     

    Cookie cutter cutting you down to size

    Strangles you with a noose called a tie

    Cookie cutter cutting you down to size

    Linked arm in arm, you’re a candy coated prize

     

    There is so much more to life than you think

     

     

     

    March 23, 2012 • 1 year old, Musings • Views: 55

  • Can You Be My Everything?

    There are many faces of the Buddha, just as there are many different sides of our personalities.  Different people bring out different aspects of your character, as does different social situations and circumstances.  Part of being a cohesive person is learning to strategically understand when it is appropriate to show which part of your personality, to whomever you are with, in the setting you are in.  It may be okay to have tequila shots with friends at a bar, but less suitable with grandma at lunch.  Unless your grandma likes to party and your friends are a bunch of pussies.

    Sometimes in intimate relationships we expect people to be our everythings.  With the people you love the most you may want them to accept every single part of who you are, but that may not be reasonable.  Your mom may love you unconditionally, but she doesn’t need to know the side of you that watches simulated blow up doll porn.  Your romantic partner may adore you until the day they die, but that doesn’t mean they can fulfill your every emotional need.  Even your best friend who will be devoted to you until the end of the universe sometimes wants to punch you in the face.  There is no one person on planet earth that can know you fully and enjoy every single part of your being all the time, which is why community is so important.

    You have the people you work with that satisfy your being a responsible adult persona, the buddies you let loose with, the people who inspire you and can be creative with, the family members that support you and make you feel safe, the frenenemies that motivate you to try harder because of the bitchy backhanded comments about how you are barely mediocre.

    The more effort we put into surrounding ourselves with people that can satisfy the various traits we each contain, the more content we would be with each individual in our lives.  As far as I know we only got this one planet to live on, and if we each truly valued the communities we created I believe the world would be a more peaceful place.  Or at least slightly less lame.

    “So what you are saying Mom, is that if I am an asshole to everyone I know on earth, maybe there are some aliens out there I can still be friends with?”

     

    March 22, 2012 • 1 year old, Musings, Relationships • Views: 69

  • A Song in Your Heart

    One of the more exiting aspects of parenting is those moments where your child makes a developmental shift that blows your mind so much that your brain innards ooze out your nose and ears and cascades the contours of your face. Your kid goes from having zero capacity to do something, and then the next day they suddenly have the ability. It is truly remarkable to witness the actual connecting of synapsis as their brain matures.

    Recently The Munch has started singing. Her favorite song right now is “ring around the rosie” which is a bit morose, but she is really into it. We sing it holding hands swaying back and forth, we sing it to her baby, we sing it to her facecloths in the bath… But this idea of music coming into her life is really meaningful. No longer are songs an outside force of entertainment, but now an actual energetic force that she can create!

    It makes me think back to a time in human evolution that was pre-music. Who was that first person who starting grunting in rhythm, humming to a beat, and what effect did it have on those around them? All animals have sound, some more musical then others, but are the intention of those noises for pleasure or for communication? Are birds singing for the beauty of it, or because they are trying to get laid? The human desire to create and appreciate music is so engrained in our culture that I tend to believe that all members of the animal kingdom have their own artistic expression of sound. That there is an auditory need to marvel at the capacity ears have, and challenge what vocal cords can manifest. Now if I can only get The Munch to broaden her horizons because I am covered in bruises from all the times I have to “all fall down.”

    March 21, 2012 • 1 year old, 1st Month, 1st time for everything, Birth • Views: 80

  • Your Stress is Stressing Me Out!

    I was going to do a bunch of research on stress and how it affects your health, but then I got too stressed out.  Stress isn’t only ugly to be around, but its impact on your body is so profound it is immeasurable.  When our minds are stressed it taxes our adrenal glands, strains our organs, and poisons our blood.  Stress ages you.  It disturbs your endocrine system, its ability to function, and the production of chemicals in brain that make you feel good.  The cells then become so deeply compromised by the flow of stress hormones that they begin to form an addiction to the feeling and provoke the brain to produce more.  Just thinking about what stress is doing to me is making me have a panic attack.

    So much of what we get stressed about is not worth the damage it does.  But stress is hard to deal with because it is so internally processed.  Sure there are pills to take that may help with the overwhelming crippling sensation of it all, but that doesn’t necessarily cure the problem just because you are less aware of it.

    But when you think about the stress from an evolutionary perspective, we would experience it when were being chased by wolves, or when about to be trampled by wooly mammoths.  There was a very real function for stress because it helped keep us alive.  The fight or flight impulse is still in us today despite the fact that it is not needed in the same capacity.  It is in the realm of the absurd how in our 1st world bubble we use this precious resource by getting stressed about traffic, being late for dinner, or how many calories you just ate.

    But to feel stress is in our DNA.  I can see it in The Munch already.  She has nothing to actually be stressed about, but sometimes she will work herself into a frenzy because she can’t move her baby’s stroller fast enough.  So I figure the best thing I can do for her is to capture a bear and release it every once in a while…. just to keep her brain chemistry balanced.

     

    “Goddamn %#*^$# stroller is stuck!”

     

    March 20, 2012 • 1 year old, Baby Brain, Health, Musings • Views: 66