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September, 2012

  • Kids are Pill Poppers too!

    The Munch has an obsession with Vitamin C.  The tablets I bought taste like candy and are delicious.  At first the rule was that she could only have one, because that is what the bottle suggests.

    “Only one Mamma!”

    For a while that was enough.  Until one morning, she was in a really shitty mood, and demanded another one.  I tried to talk her out of it, but eventually I caved and gave her a second one.  Sigh.  I am so weak.

    Then the new standard became having two Vitamin C’s.  Probably not the best idea, but it is what happened.  The Munch started to get really sneaky about obtaining more too.  She would ask anyone who watched her for some, and suddenly she was getting two from everybody!  Things were getting out of control.

    And of course, she had to get them herself, so she would shove her little hand in the bottle to grab them.  But as the supply started to dwindle, she would have to pour them on the counter to get at her precious pills.  So this morning she spilled about 8 of them and two of them fell on the floor.  I bent down to pick them up, which only took a Nano second mind you, and when I came back up she was stuffing the other six in her mouth as fast as a ninja.

    Then later that day she locked me out of the kitchen, which I thought was a cute game, until I got through the door only to find her trying to break into the coveted drawer that I had hid the jar in!

    Shit is out of control.

    But you know what? Everyone is sick around us right now.  People have hacking, wheezing, coughing, puking… And usually The Munch is the first to catch any disease floating around, but mysteriously her immune system has the strength of a super hero.

    September 28, 2012 • 2 years old, baby body, baby brain, Health • Views: 1234

  • Rise and Shine Mother Fucker

    “If parents like their kids so much, why are they always trying to get them to go to sleep?                                -janeane garofalo

    Last night when I put The Munch to sleep I prayed.  Not for her wellbeing, eternal happiness, or peace of mind.  I prayed that she would sleep in late.  Because Mamma felt over tired.

    Of course when you need sleep the most, it is as allusive as a cat with a cocaine problem.  I was so tired I couldn’t fall asleep, so I drank some stupid Nighty Night Time tea.  Pretty dumb to drink a pot of liquid at 11pm, and pretty sure  I was waking up ever hour to pee. Then my dreams were all demented making me question my sanity, and at some point my dog started rapid fire sneezing.  The whole scene was a mess.  So when I woke at 4am to pee for the 5th time, I was grateful that I probably had a few more hours to enjoy some REM, but only the early years because their later stuff sucks.

    Of course, at 5:25 AM I heard The Munch SCREAMING!  Yelling for me like her Elmo was having an affair with her baby doll.  It was nuts! Usually if she wakes up during the night all she needs is the music to be turned back on, and she will fall back asleep.  But when I snuck my hand through the door to press play it only made her more ballistic.  I felt like something had to be wrong.  Like she was puking, or her teddy was strangling her.

    “Munch what’s wrong? Are you okay? What is going on?

    Crying immediately stops.

    “Ummmmm, yeah…. I am all done with night night.”

    “What? Are you out of your mind?  It is still dark out! Look Munch, look out the window.  It is still nighttime!  Can you go back to sleep?”

    “Ummmmm, yeah…. No.  I am all done.  Take me out now please.”

    So I took her out of her crib and brought her into my bed because I felt delirious, and not the fun Prince kind of way.

    “Mamma, lets get all nice and cozy under the blanket.”

    Okay, that sounded promising.  I thought maybe she would want to go back to sleep if we cuddled in bed.

    “Mamma, we are all nice and cozy.”

    “Mmmmmmm yes Munch we are nice and cozy.  Now close your eyes for a bit.”

    “Mamma…. Mamma… Mamma…”

    “Yeah Munch, what is it?”

    “I saw Larry on his tractor and he gave me a cracker.”

    “That’s nice Munch.”

    “Yeah.  Mamma… Mamma… Mamma…. Mamma… Look at me.”


    “Mamma, I have blanket.”

    “Right on Munch, you do have a blanket.”

    “Mamma… Mamma… Mamma… Mamma…. Mamma… Go get my baby.”

    So I went and got her stupid baby…. hoping that then I could maybe sleep for just a little more.  But instead she would snuggle under the blanket with her dumb baby, then kick the blanket off, then ask to get tucked in again nice and cozy, then flail around and elbow me in the face, then tell me she needs to “show me something” that something being her tongue.  I am telling you, sleeping beauty’s mother had it made.

    “Yaaaaawwwwwwnnn.  Now that you are awake, dressed, and prepared to start your day Mamma, I am ready to take a nap.”



    September 27, 2012 • 2 years old, baby brain, Sleeping, Talking and Not Talking • Views: 2665

  • Old man in the window

    I was driving the other evening and saw this old man in the window of his house eating dinner.  It was just quick peek into his life.  He was eating alone at the table, watching TV, oblivious to the car flashing by peering into his life.  But this instance of my observing him created a spiral of projections, wondering what his life was like, questioning if he was happy.

    And suddenly I felt so depressed.

    I suddenly got so scared of growing old.  They say “the youth is wasted on the young” and never before did I feel this statement to be so true.  I thought of all the time that I spend worrying, stressing, feeling bored, being overwhelmed, and I wanted to cry.  I try to appreciate life, but I know that I am not fully.  There is so much I take for granted.

    When you are young you have a body that is capable of almost anything, you have the energy to accomplish whatever you dream, you have the potential to create your own utopia.  There is nothing but endless possibility yet it is so easy to forget that and get bogged down by the seemingly mundane.  The decisions we feel imprisoned by.

    But how do we realize the beauty of existence in a real way?  I know we all fear mortality, and death is scary, but so is being old.  Or maybe it isn’t?  Maybe that old guy was like “shit.. I have had enough of this experience of being alive… time for the next adventure.”  Maybe after 80 years you are kind over life and are perfectly content with sitting, relaxing, and soaking it all in.

    (please notice the tiny little youthful body running on the beach)


    September 26, 2012 • 2 years old, Musings • Views: 1687

  • The Big Bang

    How does the universe work?  The big bang theory has always confused me because it is really hard to conceive what was going on before the creation of the universe, and what will be going on after it is done? And what was the spark that changed everything?

    Okay, so at one point there was nothing, and then there was suddenly something.  But how did something come from nothing?  And what does nothing look like? What is the nothing that sandwiches the existence of the universe?

    Ahhhhhhhh! It makes me so uncomfortable!  But then I had this thought that brought everything into perspective.  What if space… dark matter… the substance between the stars… what if that is like a vagina? And the big bang was like a wad of sperm shooting up into that cavernous expansive space.  One explosive orgasm from the divine dick.  And then that space, like the insides of the vagina took that sperm and created life.

    And just as the universe was born, it will die.  And maybe the same place the universe goes when it dies is the same place we go when we die, just waiting around for another cosmic fuck.

    September 25, 2012 • 2 years old, Musings • Views: 1792

  • The Way to a Child’s Heart

    I have a fear of sugar.  I love it, and am personally a big fan of sugary num nums… but lets face it, sugar is addictive and is like going to Studio 54  when you are a kid.   I know I can’t keep The Munch from it forever, but  she has the rest of her life to deal with a sugar addiction.

    So I figure if I never let The Munch taste sweets she won’t really know what she was missing.  For instance, we once went to a birthday party where there were cupcakes with green frosting. Did they look delicious? Yes absolutely.  But it was already 7pm and I didn’t feel like experimenting with how she was going to react, even though I knew she was being deprived.  But lucky for me, Munch had no idea what all the other kids were happily devouring while their faces were covered in green sugary substances.

    “Mamma they are eating avocado??”

    “Mmmmm… Yes Munch they are.”

    However, this morning I was so exhausted from my week-and then weekend from hell- that my high and mighty rules spiraled down the toilet.  For breakfast we had strawberry pancakes from a restaurant that provided a cup of maple syrup to accompany them.  Pretty standard policy, but Munch had never seen liquid sugar before.

    “Mamma what’s that?”

    “Nothing Munch… just eat your dry bland pancakes.”

    “Is that dippy dippy for my pancakes?”

    “You want to dippy dippy your pancakes in this?”


    I am not a monster, (especially with such cute vernacular as dippy dippy) so I took a bite of pancake and just slightly dipped the tip in the syrup for her to get a taste.

    “Mamma, I like it, I want more.”

    “Okay Munch, here let Mamma do it so you don’t get too much.”

    “No! Let Munchee do it! I want to do it.  I want to dippy dippy.”

    “Munch, let mamma do it, I don’t want you to get messy or eat too much.”

    “I want to do it Mamma! Waaaahhhhhhaaaa”

    “Fine, here, just dippy dippy a little at a time okay?”

    And at first things were fine.  In a very civilized manner she would dip her pancake in the cup of syrup and life seemed okay.  So I spaced out, or looked at my phone… probably looked at my phone… fine I was definitely looking at my phone okay!? Gawd….  But when I looked up MUNCH WAS DRINKING THE SYRUP!! She literally drank the entire cup of maple syrup like it was vodka.

    Sigh…. Just goes to show you that you cannot prevent the inevitable.  Kids like sugar.

    “Uhhhh yeah… pretty sure that syrup was awesome!”



    September 24, 2012 • 2 years old, baby body, baby brain, Eating, Health • Views: 1112

  • Wow, Life Can Blow

    Yeah, so today was one of those days where everything was really going to shit.  The endless conditions of why are irrelevant, because I know you all have been there. But when everything sucks you know what makes life even suckier?  Your kid is being a fucktard that is what.

    Started off with The Munch refusing to nap, but insisting on ferocious breastfeeding.  I know, I know… it is kind of nuts this is still going on…. I never thought I would be having two-year old who was still on the teat.  But I don’t know how to stop it.  We seriously get into arguments about it.  What do I do?? I tried to look up suggestions for weaning in the book I have called “A Breastfeeding Companion” and all they spew is crap about what a beautiful bonding experience it is.  I don’t want to bond any more! I am sick as shit of bonding with my kid.  I want my tits back!

    I digress.  Because of the intensity and irritation of Munch’s devouring, not to mention the pending horror that was to be my afternoon, I decided that if I took The Munch for a walk she could sleep in her carrier on my back.  That way I could get my head together while I walked, get her off my boobs, and she could finally get to sleep.  So I stuffed my thrashing kid into the carrier and started to walk.

    “Mamma put me down!! I want to walk!! Wahhhhhaaaahhhhh!”

    “No Munch, it is night night time.  Just relax and take a nap.  Mamma has a busy afternoon.”

    “Noooooooooooo!!!! WAAAAHHHHHHHAAAAAH!”

    After I had gone a mile with her flailing and yelling at me I decided to screw the nap and just let her walk home.  At first this was okay, but then she didn’t want to walk any more and wanted me to carry her.

    “No Munch I am not going to carry you.  You can get on Mamma’s back in your carrier though.”


    We went back and forth like this for about 10 minutes.  She didn’t want to walk, she didn’t want to be in her carrier, but she did want me to carry her in my arms.  Do you see how unreasonable this is?  So what did I do? I carried her in my arms so she would shut the eff up.

    The whole way home-and every step I wanted to scream in frustration. Just as I got to my house and was ready to throw her, The Munch started hugging and kissing me while telling me she loved me.  Of course she would pull a move like that.

    I stupidly thought things might get better from here, but then realize that no, shit is going to get worse.  To set the stage, my mom is kindly letting me use her house for the weekend, and the one thing said to me as she left was “don’t let the cats get out.”  So what happened?  THE FUCKING CATS GOT OUT.

    Okay, this may not seem like a big deal, but do you want to know how many cats we have lost because they got murdered in the woods by the savage animals out there? Four.  FOUR DEAD CATS.  So pretty sure I had to figure out how to get the cats back or their death would be on my conscious.  But here is the catch.  I AM SCARED OF CATS!!! They are so unpredictable.  I mean, I will pet them and stuff, but I don’t like picking them up.  I don’t care what you say, cats are scary.

    Can you guys what happened? I had to pick up the cats, and although I did get them back in the house, one of them scratched my chest in the process.  I looked at my bleeding flesh wound and remembered how you can get crazy diseases from cat scratches because they have cat poop under their nails from the kitty litter.  So I start frantically looking for stuff to clean my abrasions and of course I have nothing.  I finally found some hydrogen peroxide from the 80s, but I didn’t have any cotton balls.  You want to know what I did have? Tampons.  So there I was, dabbing my tits with peroxide soaked tampons wondering what has really become of my life.

    September 21, 2012 • 2 years old, Adventures, Musings • Views: 2153

  • Can’t Please Everybody

    I am a pleaser, but I only give head in the beginnings of relationships.  I not only like making people happy, I feel pressured to.  I am not sure why I think I am responsible for another person’s emotional disposition, but the result is that I spend a lot of time navigating the intangible.

    Despite the futility of my efforts, it is usually my first reaction when dealing with others.  Give them what they want so they will like me.  What has made this policy bearable is that most people I can get away from if their demands become too unreasonable.

    However, this does not work with The Munch.  For one, I can’t escape her because she is too fast, and for two, her demands are almost exclusively unreasonable.

    Although I want her to be joyful and would do almost anything to bring delight into her world, sometimes I have to admit that I can’t please everybody all the time.

    For example:

    “Mamma, drive the car faster! The popsicle is crying!”

    “Munch I am driving as fast as I can… I don’t want to get pulled over.”

    “No Mamma! Drive faster, the popsicle is crying!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

    “Why is the popsicle crying Munch?”

    “He wants Munchee.  MAMMA DRIVE FASTER!”

    “Munch I can’t! I am doing the best I can…”

    “Mamma, the popsicle wants to get out, he needs water! GO FASTER!”

    And the crazy thing is, I almost did drive faster.  I was all “Shit, he needs water! We better hurry!”

    Ummm Hey WTF Munch…. this Popsicle wasn’t crying!?



    September 20, 2012 • 2 years old, baby brain, Behavior, Musings, Relationships, Talking and Not Talking • Views: 1141

  • Meltdowns

    For the average adult human, an emotional meltdown is more of a rare occurrence.  You may have them because of an intense fight with a loved one, a major disappointment at work, or some stressful situation that gets the better of you.  Usually the cause of your demise is easily explained and understood by others, and there is some reasonable explanation for your anguish.  Yet the standard toddler has a total breakdown every day.  I am talking full on mental collapse, at least once before bedtime, and almost always inspired by pure insanity and irrationality.

    Navigating your child’s meltdown becomes an art form.  The level of strategic thinking and patience that must be applied is as fine tuned as the work of an obsessive compulsive on meth.

    The problem with the meltdown frame of mind is giving your child what they want doesn’t necessarily stop the poignant unleashing.  Once they have plunged into the lunacy of their tantrum, your standard schemes have to be drastically improved.  You can’t just offer them something else and depend on the power of distraction.  The meltdowns are too nuclear.

    Let me give you an example of how wild these situations can get.

    It all started when Munch wanted to put her blackberries in the hummus.  Okay, so you have tasted blackberries before right?  Not exactly a flavor that goes well with chickpeas and garlic.  I was trying to explain that to her, but she insisted on this combination, and then was furious about how it tasted.  So this was where it started.

    “I want blackberries in my hummus Mamma…. I want it!!!! Wahhhhaaaahhhh.  Mamma, this tastes yucky! I DON’T WANT IT! Waaaaahhhhhhaaaaaaah!”

    I then brought her up to the bath because I figured she was tired.  Of course, she started losing her mind in there, and I decided I had to get her out before I drowned her.  I put The Munch on the chair to brush her teeth and she peed on her towel.  So I did what any normal person would do… took away the towel with pee on it, and put in in the laundry.

    “Nooooooooooooooooooooo!! Mamma NO!!! Waaaaaaaaahhhhh! I want the pee towel! I want it!”

    “Munch, no.  It has pee on it.  Mamma is going to clean it.”

    “No Mamma no!!!! Wahhhhhhaaaaahhhh! I REALLY WANT IT! I WANT THE PEE TOWEL!”

    I gave it to her, watched her wrap her self up in it, and then:

    “Mamma this towel has pee on it! Wahhhhaaaaaahhhhh!”

    So I took back the pee towel, finally put her to bed, and went down stairs to finish the blackberries and hummus.



    September 19, 2012 • 2 years old, baby brain, Behavior, Disciplining, Parenting, Talking and Not Talking • Views: 1241

  • My Favorite Stories Are About Me

    I love hearing stories about me.  I just can’t get enough of them.  We tell stories about ourselves all the time, but to have someone tell you a story about you is about as interesting as it gets.  Sigh.  Tell me more about me.

    These types of stories were especially fun in my more experimental phase of life: wink wink, you know, those nights you can’t seem to remember?  I used to love hearing about all the antics I got into and seeing myself through other people’s eyes.  Man was I fun! In fact, I was such a ball of delight that I once jumped out of a moving car because I was picking a fight and feeling frisky.  And another time I feel asleep under the DJ table, between the speakers, only to get up two hours later and continue the party.  That is before I puked violently.  What a hoot right!?

    But I realized something the other day, although hearing stories about me is my favorite past time, hearing stories about The Munch is just as good!

    I love hearing stories about The Munch.  Every time someone babysits her I want to know what she did, what she said, how many times she cried, how hard she laughed, if she ate, if she pooped, and if so-what flavor.  I want to know everything!  It is remarkably satisfying and endlessly interesting.  Who would have guessed that someone would ever rival my own fascination of hearing about me!  How can that be? It must be because she is part me!



    September 18, 2012 • 2 years old, Mommy Mind, Musings • Views: 1095