Babies
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  • The Worst Story Ever…. And a Total Waste of Money

    I kind of think vets are scam artists.  I know they help your pets and all, but every time I am there they push Heart Guard and Frontline like a crack dealers.  They guilt trip me for not wanting to get the $2000 vaccine package like I am a bad person, and act like I don’t love my dog if I don’t do exactly as they suggest.  I have never walked out the door without spending at least $600.

    So I tend to avoid the vet.  I only take my dog when I think it is really necessary.  And this was one of those times.  Her breath was not okay.  It was pretty rancid.  Considering she is 11, I figured maybe it was time to get her teeth cleaned.  So I made an appointment…

    Vet: “Okay, you will bring Mona in at 8:30 and can come pick her up at 4.00”

    Toni: “Alright.”

    Vet: “She is going to need some general anesthesia because we put the dogs down for dental cleanings.”

    Toni: “She needs anesthesia to brush her teeth?”

    Vet: “Yes.”

    Toni: “Okay… is that going to be safe for her?”

    Vet: “Well, we do a full exam before hand and check her for heartworm and other complications.  So that will be an extra $200.”

    Toni: “Yikes.”

    Vet: “I also see that she is due for some vaccines.  The lxkdjfoainx and the xdjfsoif and wait one other… uyidjakdcdso.” (I wasn’t really listening).

    Toni: “Yeesh.”

    Vet: “So should we go ahead and do all of those.  Mona is getting older and these are very important if you want her to live a long healthy life. You do care about her right? You do want the best for her don’t you?”

    Toni: “Yes of course.”

    Vet: “Okay great.  So I will set you up for those. Your total comes to $670.  See you Thursday.”

    Toni: “Great.”

    Munch and I went to pick Mona up and were then told a whole list of potential problems my dog may or may not be having.

    Vet: “You see how her skin is scaly on her tummy? She may have Cushing’s disease”

    Toni: “Oh dear.”

    Vet: “Have you noticed a lot of frequent urination? Or drinking of water?”

    Toni: “I mean I guess.  She does drink water and she does pee.  How do I know if it’s frequent?”

    Vet: “Yes that sounds bad.  We highly suggest you do the senior’s evaluation as soon as possible.  That is of course if you have a soul and want your dog to live a peaceful life.”

    Toni: “Okay lets do it.”

    Vet: “Great we can schedule you for Monday.  Make sure to get a urine sample into this cup before you come in.”

    Toni: “How on earth am I going to do that?  I don’t have her potty trained to pee in cup.”

    Vet: “You just have to follow her outside with a plate of a bowl and slip in under her as she squats.  Then you would poor the urine into the cup and keep in the refrigerator.”

    Toni: “Sounds easy enough.”

    Vet: “Fantastic.  So that will be $600 for the senior’s visit when you come.  Have a great weekend.”

    Toni: “Great.”

    As we left The Munch decided she wanted to go to the beach to play outside with Mona.

    Toni: “We have to go get some wet food for Mona Munch first.  She had two teeth pulled when she got her teeth cleaned.  So she needs soft food.”

    Munch: “Lets go to the beach first and then get wet food.  She wants to run around.”

    Toni: “Okay.  But just for a bit.”

    We get to the beach and are having a grand old time until…

    Munch: “Mamma, quick.  I have to go potty!”

    Toni: “Pee or poop.”

    Munch: “Pee.”

    Toni: “Okay lets just go outside okay?”

    Munch: “Okay quick.”

    Toni: “Wait Munch.  Are you pooping?

    Munch: “Yes.”

    Toni: “Crap we don’t have any toilet paper.”

    Munch: “What?”

    Toni: “Never mind.  Just concentrate on what you are doing.”

    Munch: “I am all done.”

    Toni: “Munch I don’t have any toilet paper.”

    Munch: “Use some leaves.”

    Toni: “Son of a…  They are all so dry.  It’s going to get poops my hands if I use these.”

    Munch: “Uh oh.”

    Toni: “Listen, I am going to run to the car and see if I can find something. I will be right back.”

    Munch: “Okay.”

    I ran to the car and found an old mitten.  There was only one, so I figured it was the best I could do.  I got back to Munch and there she was, standing patiently holding her dress up waiting for me.  But mysteriously the poop was gone.

    Toni: “Oh no.”

    Munch: “What?”

    Toni: “Munch, did Mona eat your poop.”

    Munch: “Yes.”

    Toni: “Oh God.”

    Munch: “Mamma, now her teeth are all dirty again.”

    Well, at least she got her wet food?

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  • Bikini Girls

    Little girls in bikinis.  Is this okay? Not okay?  Should you even be reading this? Are we going to get arrested for talking about this? I am scared.

    Last week my friend Gita sent me an article about how Gwyneth Paltrow designed a line of bikinis for 4-8 year old girls, and a group called Kidscape was outraged that she was promoting the sexualization of young girls.

    I wasn’t sure what I thought about little girls in bikinis, but I was sure that the 5-year old model was way skinnier than me, so I immediately committed to getting back to my birth weight.  Then…the next day I opened the mail and my mom had sent The Munch a bikini! Coincidence? Irony? Or was the bikini actually for me and my mom was trying to inspire my new diet goals of weighing 7 pounds 4 ounces?

    Of course The Munch was really excited about her new bathing suit and immediately wanted to put it on.  She was at first confused about the idea of a top and didn’t get it.

    Toni: “See… It’s just like Mamma’s Munch.”

    Munch: “Ohhhhhhh.  I see. I see.  To cover my nanas.” (which is what she calls boobs).

    Then she tried on the bottoms, but it was too big,  So The Munch did what any normal person would do.  Took off the bottoms and just wore the top – for the rest of the entire day.

    So now that my daughter not only has a bikini, but is wearing half of one, what do I think about this?  Does clothing sexualize little girls? Or does the observer?  If someone is going to see a child as sexy, does it matter what the kid is wearing? Or does their perversion exists regardless of apparel?  I am not sure – I am kind of the thinking that if someone is going to be turned on by kids, its because there is something wrong with them, and putting the child in a Yves Saint Laurent dress isn’t going to make a shit bit difference.

    But I do think the fashion for children has changed drastically since I was a kid, and there is something creepy about it.  My biggest issue is that kids now look like mini-adults rather than children.

    This was never an issue I had to contend with.  When I was young we didn’t have low wasted jeans or Baby-Tees to chose from.  Clothes were distinctly for kids.  As a pre-teen Pearl Jam was the shit and grunge was what was in style.  All my pants were baggy corduroys, and all my shirts were long sleeve plaids.  In high school, hip hop was the main cultural influence – so again all my pants were baggy and my t-shirts oversized.  I wasn’t hiding my body on purpose, I was just wearing what was considered cool.  I didn’t wear a tight pair of pants, or shirt that fit me, until I was in my 20’s.

    Now leggings, skinny jeans, high heel boots, and tight tops are the current things to wear.  In order for your kid to fit in, they have to be somewhat hip to the trends. But is this look problematic?  I don’t think little boys are necessarily seeing the girls as more sexual -because they are too busy thinking they have cooties, but I do question how little girls start seeing themselves.

    I remember as a child being fascinated by the idea of being a woman. What it would be like to have tits, or my period, were concepts I was intrigued by.  But the truth is that we are women for 80% of our lives.  It is such a short time where we get to be kids, so why not fully immerse ourselves in the experience of it.

    Maybe what kids wear can contribute to their growing up too fast, or maybe it really doesn’t matter.  I tend to believe that valuing your childhood happens within the context of your parents treasuring it as well.  That childhood is more of a state of mind that is preserved through environment.  Maybe once The Munch grows into the bottom half of her bikini I will think differently, but under these circumstances, all I see is a crazy little girl mooning me.

    bikini-blog-(i)

     

  • You’re So Vain, I Bet You Think This Blog Is About You

     

    If I were to put a mirror right next your face while I was talking to you, 99.999999% of the time I would be looking at my reflection rather than you.  Humans are seduced by their own image, and we all secretly love watching ourselves.  If we were to watch a video of me and you eating cheese, I would be watching me, and you would be watching you, and the mouse we were hanging out with would be watching the cheese.  And then we would all make out because it was that kind of movie.

    No one wants to admit they are vain even when we all engage in vain behavior.  But the truth is that the human condition is to be obsessed with yourself, and vanity is a manifestation of that.  The problem with our current paradigm is that there are too many outlets to express our vanity.  Back in the day, the only way to catch a glimpse of yourself would be if you went swimming on a very still day.  But now not only are their mirrors everywhere you turn, there are all these technological outlets for exhibitionism and narcissism.

    Facebook, twitter, instagram, all provoke our vanity in a way that is too persuasive to ignore.  Look at me do this, look at me do that, look at me doing this and that.

    But the counter balance to vanity is insecurity.  If you are going to put yourself out there to be praised, you are also putting yourself out there to be criticized, or even worse… ignored.  If I posted a picture of myself that nobody liked – that would be worse than if someone said something rude.  To not be seen is worse than being judged harshly.

    And the more preoccupied we are with ourselves, the more we critique ourselves as well.  If I only saw my image once ever 9 years when I finally got to use the clean spoon first because my father Dwagfur and brother Shtupslnary always took priority, I would think I looked pretty damn good.  You know, underneath the dirt and scurvy.  But the more we expose ourselves to ourselves, the easier it is to notice every imperfection.  If every day of my life I look at my stupid face, then even eventually I am going to notice my flaws.  All 7,893 of them.  Not that I have counted or anything because that would be insane.

    The reason why I feel like vanity is an inherent trait rather than socialized is because The Munch has always been fascinated by her own image.  Ever since she was a baby she loved looking at pictures and seeing videos of herself.  I think it is natural to be enthralled by our own beings and to want to see what everyone else sees.  But I don’t want The Munch to acquire the inevitable emotional baggage and self-doubt when she starts looking in the mirror and judging what she sees.

    Here is my strategy to avoid this!! I think it’s working!!

    vanity-blog-(i)

    April 30, 2013 • 2 years old, baby brain, Behavior, Mommy Body, Mommy Mind, Musings • Views: 4668

  • Don’t Tell Me What To Do!

    No one likes to be told what to do.  Whenever someone tells me to do something, my first reaction is to do the opposite.  Probably why I always end up getting into trouble.  “Toni, don’t touch that bat, it carries diseases” well… not if you are wearing a condom.

    When you have a kid you are constantly telling them what to do, and sometimes they listen, and sometimes they are like “go fuck yourself.”  I can’t blame The Munch for not wanting to succumb to all of my demands.  Even though I am way smarter, and the majority of my requests are not only sensible but for her benefit, she will undoubtedly rebel.

    Sometimes I can anticipate here revolt, and sometimes she catches me totally off guard.  Her uprising against my logic can throw me off my game and confuse me.  Maybe she is right and I am being unreasonable? Does she really need to pee before taking a nap?  Should I risk the chance she urinates in my bed?  And then an hour later while ripping the sheets of my mattress I wonder why I let myself be manipulated by her mutiny.

    The insurgence of a toddler is intimidating.  It is never just “no thank you Mamma, I would rather not leave the park now.” If The Munch is pissed and doesn’t want to do something, I better get ready for battle.

    But now I have this new strategy.  You know how you might take a toy and talk as the toy’s voice to play with a kid right? And be like “Hey, its me.  Bear.  You want to smell my fart?” to make them laugh.  Well my friend Sarah told me, “just have the toys tell her to do things that she doesn’t want to do. If it’s coming from the toy, rather than you, she will do it.”

    Fuck yeah she will.  Even though my toy voice is undoubtedly creepy and out of a Stephen King movie, this method totally works!  I guess things are way more annoying coming out of my mouth… but when coming from her owl – no problem!  So for all you future boyfriends of the Munch, if she is not listening to you, just grab a stuffed animal and let them to the talking!

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  • Is She Sad?

    Most of the time when we talk about people we have the decency to do it behind their backs.  It is pretty rare to turn to the person next to you to gossip about the person across from you.  Usually that thought of being overheard is enough to keep your commentary to yourself.

    But The Munch doesn’t seem to have this filter.  If we are in public and she feels like talking about the strangers we come into contact with, she just does it.  With out any shame.  And always just loud enough that the hear everything.

    Munch: “Mamma, who is that girl?”

    Toni: “I don’t know Munch I have never met her.”

    Munch: “Is she a girl, or is she old?”

    Toni: “Ummmm I think she is in the middle.”

    Munch: “So she is not old?”

    Toni: “No Munch, she is just right?”

    Munch: “Is she sad?”

    Toni: “I don’t think so.”

    Munch: “She looks sad.”

    Toni: “She is fine Munch.”

    Munch: “Now she looks angry.  Is she angry Mamma?”

    Toni: “Probably.”

    Munch: “What is that man doing over there?”

    Toni: “Uhhhhh he is just shopping Munch.”

    Munch: “And he is wearing shoes?”

    Toni: “Yeah he sure is.”

    Munch: “And his shoes are dirty?”

    Toni: “I guess they are, yes.”

    Munch: “So he can’t wear them in his house? Or is his house dirty?”

    Toni: “I am sure he just takes them off before he goes inside.”

    Munch: “Is he angry? Is that man angry?”

    Toni: “Yeah, I think he is.”

    Munch: “Mamma, is that girl hungry over there? Or is she full?”

    Toni: “I think she is hungry Munch, that’s why she is ordering a sandwich.”

    Munch: “She looks full.”

    Toni: “Well, she is not full.”

    Munch: “Mamma is that girl angry?”

    Toni: “For sure.”

    (What’s the big deal Mamma…. its just a little coffee talk).

    coffee-talk-blog

     

    April 24, 2013 • 2 years old, Adventures, baby brain, Family Drama, Talking and Not Talking • Views: 2637

  • Here Kid, Play The Dictionary Game

    There are all sorts of things I resent my parents for.  I think both my mom and dad are lovely people, but I could pick apart and overanalyze their parenting styles until I am blue in the balls.  And no I am not mixing metaphors.  I do in fact have balls that I dip in blue dye when critiquing my parents.

    One thing that I have really begrudged my dad for was that I felt like he didn’t play with me enough as a kid.  Maybe that is because my dad was really fun to play with, and I always wanted more – so no matter how much time he devoted to my amusement it would never be enough.  We had such stellar games as me pretending to be little red riding hood, my dad was the big bad wolf, and I would have him chase my down the street yelling “I am going to get you little girl” while I ran away from him screaming.  I mean come on… I don’t know why my dad felt uncomfortable playing that one?

    But I have to say that having a kid really puts my parents into perspective.  I can look at all these judgments I have held onto and realize “ohhhhhh now I get it.”  Although I am sure my dad thought it was fun to play for a little bit, he also wasn’t a kid and kind of wanted to live his life.

    I relate to this aspect of my dad a lot.  I really love hanging out with The Munch and playing games like where she pretends I am a baby and shoves pacifiers in my face – but sometimes I would rather be reading or writing.  I know this time with her is fleeting, and she wont be a kid forever and I have to cherish these moments, but now I understand why my dad would play the dictionary game with me so often.  (The dictionary game was a game my dad made up while he was working and I wanted his attention.  He would find a word in the dictionary, like endoplasmic reticulum and then have me find it in the dictionary.  Considering I was 5 at the time, it took kind of a while).

    (Here are my dad and I at a Grateful Dead Show… Yeah… that really happened)

    dictionary-game-blog-(i)

  • I Am So Good At Multitasking And Am Supre Focsued Rght Nwo

    People like to think they are really good at multitasking, and by people I mean me.  In fact, this sentence just took me 15 minutes to write because I am having two text conversations as I am trying to type.  See how good at multitasking I am!?  At this rate I will have this blog piece done in 3 hours.  Talk about efficiency. Ha… just checked my phone and texted again.  This is awesome.

    So according to this study in the Atlantic, people who multitask the most, and think they are proficient at it, are actually the worst multitaskers.  They says it because… oh I don’t know – something about overconfidence and impulsiveness but I can’t really remember because I was dribbling a soccer ball, bouncing an orange with my nose, giving myself bangs, listening to a podcast, changing my underwear, and eating a edemame while reading it.

    I have always been a multitasker.  Maybe that is because I try to do it all and really do nothing?  Or perhaps I am in a constant state of distraction and this type of thinking is a manifestation of that?  But you know what? One day there I was hanging out, and noticed that something was coming out of my vagina – and it happened to be a human being!  Since that time, I feel like its impossible not to be an excessive multitasker.  If I am around my child there is no way I can stay in a state of focus and not have her interrupt me every 2 minutes to talk about how the owl is scared of lady bugs or asking me to make her a fucking smoothie.

    Being a parent has taken me to a whole new level of multitasking.  I am pretty much a pro at cooking her dinner while cleaning up lunch while putting her sparkly shoes on her hands while trying to stealthfully wipe jelly out of her ear. I have adapted to having conversations with friends in stilted segments of 45 seconds.  Although this is a great exercise in memory – I have to say I usually wish I had a stenographer so I wouldn’t have to ask, “wait, so what were just talking about” so many goddamn times.

    But the ultimate test of my level of concentration and ability to deal with the distraction that is The Munch, is when we do yoga together.  Often times she wants to “help me”, which usually consists of her getting in my way and hanging off my legs.  If I am in a headstand she often thinks this is the best time to hug, or get in my face and tell me about how her baby doll doesn’t like popcorn and thinks spiders should dance, but only in the summer.

    This morning a few of us practiced yoga together, and my friend Sarah brought her son Desmond too.  We were all trying really hard to pay attention and be one with the universe and all that crap, but….

    Toni: “Okay lets come into a warrior one pose.”

    Munch: “ Mamma, can you find my phone for me?”

    Toni: “Munch, Mamma is trying to focus… we can find it later.  Now come into warrior 3 post.”

    Desmond: “Mom I am thirsty?”

    Sarah: “Okay well I will get you some water when I am done?”

    Munch: “Mamma, can you get my phone?”

    Sarah: “Desmond go help Adelia find her phone.”

    Desmond: “I can’t right now. I am on the bike.”

    Toni: “Now extend your arms into superman arms.”

    Desmond: “Did somebody say super man?”

    Munch: “Mamma, I have to go potty?”

    Toni: “Now come into balancing on your left leg.”

    Desmond: “Mom, you want this apple?”

    Sarah: “Ummmm yeah that’s really great thanks.”

    Desmond: “Mom, Adelia can’t have my gun.”

    Sarah: “Okay Des that’s fine.”

    Munch: “Mamma, can you find my phone for me?”

    Desmond: “Wait who said superman arms?”

    Toni: “Come to balance on the right leg.”

    Desmond: “Hey Adelia I found your phone.”

    At the end of our session we were in shavasana -where you lay down like a corpse and are supposed to be in a deep meditation… and of course these two just kept on chatting.

    Desmond: “Adelia, come here.”

    Munch: (stomps around running the other direction)

    Desmond: “No, Adelia come here.”

    Munch: (stomps over to Des)

    Desmond: “Do you want to play hide and seek?”

    Munch: “Yeah.”

    Desmond: “Okay, you count I am going to hide.”

    Munch: (stomps over to me).  “Mamma.  We are going to play hide and seek! Watch me while you are sleeping okay? Okay Mamma?  Mamma can you hear me? Wake up.”

    Toni: “Yeah that’s great.”

    Desmond: “Okay count Adelia.”

    Munch: “1,2,3,4,5,6,7,8,9,10,11,12,13,14,16,17,18,19,20”

    Son of a bitch Munch you never remember 15!! What the fuck! (Yeah, so that’s what I was thinking while multitasking meditating).

    multitasking-blog-(i)

  • Hey Mom, Stop Stalking Me With Your Voice

    “Be careful how you talk to your children, because one day that will become their inner voice.” – some quote on Facebook (is that ligit to say now? Can I just quote shit with “eh… saw it on my news feed?”)

    I think this is a really interesting idea.  I know all of us have our mother’s/father’s voices in our heads – yapping away as part of our internal dialogue.  Judging, and telling you what to do… “Toni be careful of crumbs or the ants will come.  Toni throw away your Popsicle sticks.  Toni don’t paint your nails on the living room rug.  Toni don’t walk with your hands in your pocket because if you trip you won’t be able to catch yourself and will fall on your face.” Okay so obviously my mom was obsessed with cleanliness and my dad once had a really bad fall.

    Recently I noticed that not only is my mom’s voice in the phone giving me orders to keep things tidy, or in my head further critiquing, but she is also coming out of my child’s mouth!

    Let me explain.  Every time my mom comes over to my house she has to take the toilet paper, which is usually placed on the floor next to the toilet, and put it on the roll.

    “Toni, why don’t you put the toilet paper on the roll? I just had to do it for you again.”

    “Well because it is just going to run out and I will have to take the empty paper roll off, then put the other roll on.  I can’t stand the futility and repetition – all the time it wastes in life.”

    “That takes two seconds?!”

    “Well mom, that is two seconds I just don’t have.”

    But ever since Munch started using the potty she insists I always put the toilet paper on the roll!  She will freak out if I don’t!!  I am not sure if the Munch and my mom are in on this together? I have also noticed that The Munch makes me clean up crumbs immediately upon their creation – even if she is the one making them.  Is this only the beginning of constant badgering coming from every direction in my life? Come to think of it, I am pretty sure The Munch is a secret operative for my mom’s agenda.

    (Hahahahahaha I your face Mom and Munch!)

    mom-voice-blog-(i)

    April 18, 2013 • 2 years old, baby brain, Family Drama, Musings, Pee & Poop, Relationships • Views: 3109

  • So This is What Trust Is

    The Munch having pink eye was not only a revolting mess for me, but I also sometimes care about her too – and it looked pretty darn uncomfortable.  Plus it wasn’t healing, so after about 4 days of “Old Indian Bark” (not a joke… and that not being a joke makes it even more disturbing than if it were a joke) I decided to try the white man’s medicine.

    The first attempt of getting the medicine in her eye was truly traumatizing.  I had this goo I was supposed to line in the inside of her eyeball twice a day. That means pulling down the bottom lid, looking deep into that red cavernous veiny grossness, and then squeezing gunk into it.  All while her eye was open.  Three of us had to hold her down and she was so upset by it, she immediately wept out all the medicine.  So that was an epic fail and I was pretty sure that unless I had sedatives (I mean, ones that I was willing to share) I had to come up with a new strategy.

    That night I did something so brave, so reckless, it is hard to believe I am still here to tell you about it.  Before I begin, I have to let you in on one fact.  The Munch is still on the boob.  I know… that is fucking nuts.  She will be 3 in July, and I can’t tell you how over it I am.  It is the one thing we get into serious fights over.  I never knew my boobs were in such high demand.  Just kidding, I have dated a man before.  I only do it once a day to get her to nap, but please Gaia let this be over soon.  I will sacrifice my first born if you do.  Seriously, I totally will.

    So I had this idea that if I let her do “nana” (as she likes to call it) while I put the medicine in, then maybe she wouldn’t struggle the same and I could actually get it in her eye.  Of course this was a fucking ludicrous idea.  What sane person would put their boob in such a vulnerable position, as in – someone’s mouth where it could get chomped off -while you were administering medicine in their sensitive eye?  Especially if said person is an irrational toddler who is intensely afraid of this process.

    But I figured it was about trust.  If I showed The Munch I trusted her, then she in turn could trust me.  I mean even though no one likes to have their eye peeled open and have crap squirted into it, unless you are into that sort of thing- no judgment here- this process wasn’t going to hurt her if she just relaxed.

    And you know what? It totally worked! She did not bite my nipple off, and now her eye is better.  So I highly suggest next time you are trying to get someone to trust you who is having a hard time and battling their fear, let them cup your balls or vagina.  Trust me.  It will work.

    (Only when feeling healthy is one ready to rock their leopard vest with no pants)

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    April 15, 2013 • 2 years old, baby body, baby brain, Family Drama, Health • Views: 2585