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  • Even Though I Love You I Don’t Always Like You

    We all love our families – or at least we feel the cultural pressure to say we do, and honor the obligation by pretending. I have an to uncle whom I sign off emails saying, “love Toni,” but in truth I think he’s kind of a dick. I have cousins I adore, and then one I think is a mega tool. Even though I guess there is a general aura of love around my family, I sure as shit don’t enjoy all their company.

    When someone is in your life, and probably never going anywhere, you can feel love for them – but that doesn’t mean you always want to be around them. Some of my best loving I do from afar. The less I have to deal with your bullshit, the better I can appreciate my love for you.

    Even the people I know I love a lot… I sometimes imagine the joy I would feel murdering them. Not the consequence of their actually being dead – just the initial satisfaction of choking the life out of them.

    Love may be unconditional, but liking someone is not.

    I LOVE my child until the ends of the multiverse – but I don’t always like her.

    Sometimes being around the people you love the most is the most annoying. When you really care about someone, the emotional juxtaposition of being sincerely irritated by them makes your feelings even more extreme. With my kid, my eternal love is so boundless that when she really pisses me off, I want to throw her into the outer edges of the atmosphere – and then toss those damn Frozen sneakers that she was making me look for right after her.

    I love The Munch everyday of my life regardless of her behavior, but the most exciting moments between us are when I really like her. Now that she is almost 5, The Munch is almost like a real person. She is less driven by her base animal instincts, and no longer does things like scream, “I hate you” because I wouldn’t open the box of cookies while driving – I was too busy texting. JUST KIDDING! I was looking at Facebook.

    As The Munch is growing up and getting to be more governed by her own moral compass, I have come to observe that she is a really good person. She cares about her friends’ happiness, and is always willing to share her leotards. She made me a Mother’s Day gift, and was nice to me all day because according to her “It’s important to do things for moms – they are so busy all the time doing things for their kids.” And the last time we had a picnic, she picked me flowers and offered me the BIGGEST strawberry.

    The Munch’s personality is also really developing, and I am learning more and more what I like about her every day – mostly how many things we have in common. We both are really into music, dancing, and of course trying to make people laugh. She tells amazing jokes like “Knock knock. (Who’s There?) A fart on your head because you just made a smelly poop.” I mean, that is some real comedy gold right there.

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    May 13, 2015 • 4 years old, Family Drama, Mommyhood, Parenting, Relationships • Views: 1660

  • Can Inspirational Quotes Save Me from THe Heartbreak of Failure?

    I have this narrative in my mind that things never work out for me. The voice in my head tells me that I am one of those people that will always be struggling on the periphery of life. It’s as if I were a lost astronaut floating in space, staring into the blackness of dark matter as my tears freeze from the existential coldness of existence. Am I being too dramatic?

    It is just that I have tried many avenues seeking success and work really hard – but most of my endeavors never turn out they way I want or expect. There are so many projects I have embarked on that I think are going to be amazing and take me out of the rut of the struggle, but they all end up flopping like a flaccid penis.

    Even though I have this expectation of inevitable failure, I still keep trying. I must be an emotional masochist because I just keep coming back for more. Someone get me a gag ball and nipple clamps for my spirit body!

    I rationalize my disappointments with a variety of new age inspirational quotes. “Failure is an opportunity to begin again more intelligently,” “There is no failure except giving up,” and the famous Bill Cosby quote “I don’t know the key to success, but the key to failure is trying to please everybody – which is why you should drug and rape them.” Fine, I made up that last part.

    Since inescapable anticlimaxes have been such a theme to my mental monologue, my friend decided to help me decode this thought process with a guided meditation. As I was in this semi-conscious state, I had a thought that changed my whole perspective on shit. What if the wrong things don’t work out, but the right ones will?

    It is such a slight shift of perception, but it felt monumental. Maybe all these things didn’t happen the way I was dreaming because they just weren’t the right paths for me. Yet if I keep poking down different avenues, I will eventually find the road I am supposed to be on.

    I feel like this ideology can be applied to the pursuit of love, too. We try on all these different people like skin suits. When the relationships don’t fit, we weep in all the heartbreak and feel too fat/skinny/short/tall. Even though it hurts to peel off a person you care about, if you keep putting them on, eventually you will find the perfect one.

    My personal inspirational quote…

    failure-blog

    March 11, 2015 • Musings • Views: 1992

  • Rappers Talking to Teen Girls About Love is Only the BEST THING EVER!

    Are you ready for your heart to erupt out of your ribcage, and your eyes to swell with the butterfly dreams of caterpillars? Do you feel prepared to allow hope to wash over your membranes and loofah your radiant body with the sweet scent of optimism? Then you must watch these rappers giving love advice to teen girls. Here are your tissues, and please only use them for tears because you know why.

    The website Rookiemag.com hosts a series where teenage girls can ask famous grown ups questions about the secrets of existence. In the most recent episode, rap duo “Run The Jewels” (comprised of Killer Mike and El P), provide guidance on affairs of the heart. Can I just say the idea of two grown men, (one of whom calls himself KILLER Mike) giving sincere feedback on intimate questions is the MOST BEAUTIFUL THING EVER!

    Both genders have immense cultural pressures they have to contend with. I am usually writing about women and what we experience because you know, I have a vagina, and my period, and GROSS! Yet there is also much men have to battle when it comes to societal demands – especially in the world of hip-hop where masculinity is a huge part of credibility, and ones personal brand.

    I am not sure, but I am going to bet the status quo would not consider it “gangster” to be giving empathetic thoughtful counsel on the pressure of the “first kiss”- but I think this is the manliest display of manliness I have ever witnessed. Both Killer Mike and El P take the concerns of these girls incredibly seriously, and are genuinely compassionate when it comes to their sensitive struggles.

    Teenage girls are notoriously THE MOST emotional creatures on planet earth, but Run The Jewels makes it clear that their experience of love is comparable. They both open up about the insecurity they have felt when being in love with someone who they were not sure loved them back, the fear of telling someone how you honestly feel, and the heartbreak of wanting someone you can’t have. They discuss the value sense of humor and personality, as well as promote themes of honestly, transparency, and self love. With such gems as “Let fate do its part, but don’t stand around waiting with your heart,” and “Say directly how you feel. You would be helping man kind if you were direct,” you would think this was coming from some New Age hippy adorned with pukka shells as the sounds of gongs played in the background.

    This is the path masculinity needs to be directed towards. Grown men who exhibit no fear of of admitting their emotional nature. The more men can be encouraged to not only tap into, but to discuss their feelings, the less repression they will experience. There is so much value added when men are equipped to have deep philosophical conversations about the nature of their psychological selves.

    I wish that this were going on when I was a teen girl. I can’t imagine the impact it would have had if Biggie Smalls and Eazy-E did a web series telling me how I don’t want a crazy imbalance of power when it comes to relationships.

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    January 26, 2015 • Birth • Views: 2109

  • The Heartbreak of a Broken Heart

    Do you remember your first broken heart? Did it feel like someone peeled back the layers of your skin only to pry their fingers deep into your aorta, and scrape the inner walls of your ventricles with their nails? Were you writhing in agony as the seething suffering traversed your veins and settled into a cantankerous cavity hidden inside the bowels of your being? ME TOO!!!

    My heart was broken for the first time when I was 15. He told me we lived too far apart, and he couldn’t be my boyfriend anymore because he wanted to finger-bang other girls. I wasn’t just devastated… I was destroyed. Forget the fact that I had another boyfriend who went to my school. The loss was too profound to bear. I would think of him every night when I went to sleep, and he was the first thing on my mind when I woke up. I sometimes wouldn’t leave my house in hopes that he would call. (The tragedy of being a teenager in the 90’s, pre cellphones *tear). I thought of him obsessively, and would look for him in any crowd I was in. It took me an entire year to move on emotionally, and of course as soon as I got over him, he was like “let’s date again,” – so we did.

    Being broken hearted is a helpless and vulnerable feeling because it is rooted in rejection. No matter how the other person tries to rationalize their reasoning, the piercing truth is that they don’t want you. That sinking reality is so painful because it also digs at the core of your self-esteem. The ego becomes enmeshed with the heart. Not only is the object of your love leaving, but they are also scarring your sense of worth with their disinterest to stay.

    The Munch is going through her first experience with heartbreak, and it has been breaking my heart to witness her sorrow. Her baby sitter since she was one year old has decided to move on. We had a conversation about it last week, and I think at first Munch was in a state of shock or denial. She didn’t really mention it, so I was hoping maybe it would be a smooth transition. Then the other morning, Munch came in my room while I was meditating wondering what I had done with a picture her babysitter Liliana had drawn her. It had been hanging on the fridge, and I had taken it down. At first I didn’t want to admit that, and tried to claim I didn’t remember – but Munch kept asking me where it was.

    Toni: I took it down.
    Munch: Why?
    Toni: It made me sad to look at it.

    That was when everything hit her. Suddenly Munch had to face reality. She started weeping in my arms telling me how much she missed Liliana. I held her, and began crying right along with her. Her pain was so relatable. Of course wanting to discontinue employment as a babysitter is drastically different than ending a relationship – yet in Munch’s world, the sentiment is the same.

    Munch: I still want her to be my babysitter. I don’t like those things she said. They really hurt my feelings. I don’t want her to leave. I miss her. I can’t stop thinking about Liliana!
    Toni: I know baby. It is really hard. But people can’t always be who you want them to be. Sometimes they have to be who they want to be. And when you love them, you have to give them that space.
    Munch: But I miss her so much and I want to see her. I am so angry that she doesn’t want to see me any more. I want to be with her. My heart is broken. She broke my heart.
    Toni: It hurts, I know. But Liliana wants to go back to school. And we want her to be happy. She needs to find her happiness. Don’t you want her to do that?
    Munch: Yes, but I also want her to stay with me.
    Toni: It doesn’t always work that way baby. Sometimes happiness means you have to leave.

    We sat, talked, and cried. I didn’t want to talk her out of her feelings, because that seemed like a fruitless effort. We can’t rationalize our way out of loss. We have to go through it. The only thing I could do was to listen, and suggest different ways of seeing the situation. After a while, we got up, got dressed, and got in the car to go on an adventure. We decided that we would listen to music as loud as we could, and sing as loud as our voices would go.

    As I was driving I realized the universal truth of heartbreak. The other person is happier with out you. That is why they have to go. Suddenly I felt elated by this knowing.  Even though there is a sweet sadness, there is also hope. Your aching has meaning because the person you love is happier. Even though that bruises the ego, the true self wants the people you adore to find their bliss, even if it means they take a different path.

    I know Munch is still hurting from this separation. She will go through her iPod, find videos of her with Liliana, and then cry as she watches them. Although the tragic rawness is brutal to witness, I also respect that this is a process she has to go through in order to let go. All I know is that I considering Munch is only 4 and feels this deeply, I am seriously in for it when she is a teenager.

    heartbreak-blog-(i)

  • Is It Bad That I Didn’t Miss You?

    There are a lot of things that we are supposed to say in order not to seem like total sociopaths. I am supposed to say things like “I love my parents,” or, “I would die for the people in my family,” or “excuse me” if I fart. To say anything different would make me look like a total psycho. As the mother of a child the one thing I *really* should be saying is “I miss my child desperately when I am away because she is the joy of my life and the light of my loins.” Okay but here is the thing, I was just gone for five days from The Munch – and I am pretty sure I didn’t miss her at all.

    Ummmm is that bad? Does that make me a terrible person? I didn’t even really think about Munch that much when I was gone either. Holy crap – that makes me a worse person doesn’t it. Fuck. I am not doing well right now. Wait… wait for it… okay breathe… it actually felt awesome not to think about or miss my child. Shit.

    For the first 15 months of Munch’s life I was basically with her every minute of every day. Trust me. Read my blog during those early years and there is a meticulous account of every detail, including the consistency of her feces once food was introduced. But now that The Munch is four, there is more autonomy for us both. We have our own lives separate from each other. Munch goes to school, she has a babysitter, she spends time with family… Yet even though I do have physical freedom in my everyday life – what I don’t have is mental freedom. I am always having to think about where she is, who is picking her up, what food she has, if she is wearing the right leotard, does she have her rain coat, is there an extra pair of shoes in her bag, and are they the right fucking shoes because my kid is both neurotic and crazy.

    PS…. I also didn’t miss the tantrums, the yelling in my face about not giving her a 3rd piece of chocolate, the shoe throwing, the stink eye, the refusal to get dressed in warm clothes… you know, the basic toddler rage or a developing human.

    I don’t go away that often, so those days where I could just think about me and my needs were seriously epic. I was hundreds of miles away from Munch, and having a break from being responsible for her was as satisfying as burping after drinking soda too fast. It made me realize just how emotionally taxing it is to always have someone else on your mind. To be constantly worrying about them, and wanting to make sure they are okay. It is like Munch is a fascist dictator of my brain and heart. But it is not her fault! Well sort of, because she is really demanding…. But I blame the biological and psychological bond of motherhood more because holy fuck is it intense. Thanks a lot nature!

    On day three, The Munch was missing me so I talked to her on the phone. She was crying and telling me she wanted me to come back – but I got her laughing so then she was fine. Although I was momentarily sad that Munch was sad, it was also amazing talking to her on the phone because I never really do that either. There aren’t a lot of opportunities because we aren’t usually away from each other for that long. Yet having a phone call with my kid only further reinforced the truth of how the physical separation between us is only increasing as she ages. The attachment of those baby years is no longer, and now our relationship will have to withstand distance. Munch and are only going to grow farther apart because her life will take her away from me at times, as will mine. We can’t be together every moment of every day, so the journey then turns into staying emotionally connected even when we are not in each other’s faces.

    There is a certain beauty of loving someone so much you yearn for them. The Munch missed me because I have been the anchor of her life, and I represent so much in terms of love, safety, and security. Yet soon The Munch will crave independence, and want to get away from me. It is probably then that I will miss her desperately and call crying, but she will be like “Ugh… thank god I am away from my mom so she can stop fucking writing about me for five minutes.” But fuck you future Munch because I will write about that phone call so you can’t escape me!

    When I got home Munch was sooooo happy to see me that it actually made me tear up. She kept hugging and kissing me – telling me how much she loved me. I felt so honored to mean so much to this precious person. I was totally humbled by how much I adored her, and how lucky I was to have this tiny tyrannical human in my life. I held Munch in my arms and knew that every moment, even the hardest ones, were totally profound because of the depth of our love. Then of course she got mad at me because I wouldn’t let her watch “My Little Pony,” and I started planning my next trip.

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    September 22, 2014 • 4 years old, Adventures, Mommy Mind, Mommyhood, Parenting, Relationships, Working Mommy • Views: 1725

  • Shitty Messages

    One of the biggest problems in relationships is communication. When you aren’t communicating in a functional way, everything goes to shit, down shit creek, without a shitty paddle. Once there is a breakdown everything gets misconstrued and assumptions are made – which as we know makes ass out of just about everyone – except for that donkey because he really is a good guy.

    One of the most dysfunctional ways to deal with emotional problems is to write a shitty email/text/facebook message to express your discontent. I don’t think I have ever gotten an email telling me how I suck, read it, and then thought, “Wow, they really have a good point. I in fact do blow!” Every time I get one of those I instead get defensive, angry, annoyed, and usually respond with venom.

    One of the main problems with the instant connectivity of devices is that they tether you to your community like a ball on string waiting to be beaten by a child. There are too many ways to get a hold of people – and too many impersonal platforms to complain. In the olden days when you would have to cross the prairie to tell your friend Eliza-Jane that she is a cunt for not thanking you for the corn biscuits, or ride 2-weeks to the next town to bitch out Jebediah for his horse shitting on your lawn…. You would have to be REALLY mad to make that effort. Where now you can just sit back on the couch and flap your thumbs around to nitpick about every minor annoyance.

    The reality is that we don’t actually have to tell people everything that is irritating about them because guess what, there is a shit ton that is super bothersome about you too. Rather than presuming the worst out of the people we love, we should be supposing the best.

    Most of the times when people inconvenience you it is not because they are doing so maliciously, or have some agenda to ruin your life. If you take five minutes to put yourself in their shoes, usually you can figure out that the intention wasn’t to piss you off. The majority of the time people are exasperating because they are dealing with their own lives and the horror of existence.

    I feel like there should be a rule that you can only discuss a petty problem with someone if you are willing to hike a mountain, travel in a horse and buggy risking dysentery, and French kiss a carrier pigeon to ensure your message is received.  But don’t write shitty messages just because you can…

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    July 10, 2014 • Musings, Relationships • Views: 13813

  • The Longing of Lust

    What is the difference between love and lust?  In the beginning of a relationship it is almost impossible to distinguish between the two.  Is it my heart that is reacting to this person, or my genitals?  They are both warm and tingly, and I am not quite sure who is in charge here.

    Lust is a very powerful force, but it exists only in the realm of the unfamiliar.  The less you know someone, the more potential they have, and the deeper the abyss of lust.  The fantasy of who they could be, or how you might be together, is still intact because the exposure is limited.  When you never fully have that person as yours, living with them, waking up next to them, staring at them across a silent dinner table, the lust is a pulsing force.  But the more you get to know someone fully, the mystery dissolves, and so does your invented perception of them.  You know what they look like when they yawn, or how their veins protrude when they are angry, and the truth of their humanness dampens the lust.

    Part of what drives lust is the fact that they are still out of reach.  Something you are striving for, longing for.  When you meet someone you are attracted to, we often want to consume them.  Devour them completely with our time, love, energy, and private parts.  But it is the moments before, and the period when you are not sure what is going to happen, that is the most stimulating.  But there is insecurity to this position of not knowing, and it is exactly that place of insecurity that feeds the lust.

    Will they kiss me?

    Do they want me?

    How long with this last?

    Sometime relationships can exist for years in this state of limbo, other times a few drunken hours on the kitchen floor.  But we all have had people we pine over, but never commit to.  It is a desperate place to exist, but also exciting.  Yet is chasing the dragon of lust ultimately a distraction from love? Or facing yourself fully?  When you are consumed by lust is it worth the angst it causes?  The titillation of uncertainty is also a paralyzing consequence.  Being in a state of lust can make you feel alive on the outside but dead inside.

    Lust is a fleeting feeling, where love is eternal. So when all that ambiguity is replaced by security, we can only hope the lust transforms into love.

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    September 17, 2013 • Musings, Relationships • Views: 2946

  • Can You Define Spirituality?

    What is spirituality?  No seriously.  What is it?  People often say they are not religious but they are spiritual.  Yet that feels really vague to me with such a broad spectrum of possibilities.  Even my own understanding seems convoluted to myself. Am I still considered spiritual if I worship the dark lord Ungoolu and believe my child is an immaculate conception from the venom of his black seed? But don’t worry it didn’t hurt.  It was only a little prick.

    When I was growing up I went to Catholic Church every Sunday until I was 15 years old.  My father’s mother was very religious, and it was important to her that my brother and I attended mass, so my dad made sure he honored her wishes.  But neither of my parents every told me what to believe.  They just brought me along and exposed me to it.

    My dad was also a professor of ancient Greece, so I was very familiar with their Gods and the stories of Zeus, Hera, Aphrodite and the rest.  So herein laid my conflict as a 6-year old trying to wrap my head around God and religion.  I couldn’t understand why the religion of the Ancient Greeks was now so commonly considered “myth” where the modern religions were said to be “truth.”  What made one a fable and the other one fact?  Why were the gods of the past relegated to fairytale?

    I didn’t like the idea that one religion was right another was wrong.

    My other issue was around the concept of eternity.  My grandmother would tell me that when I died I would go either to heaven or hell forever.  I don’t know about you, but that concept freaked me the fuck out.  Eternity.  Forever.  Still gives me the heebie-jeebies.  I didn’t want to be in either place forever.  Even being in heaven for eternity was a terrifying concept.  So I asked my dad if he ever felt this way.

    Child Toni: “Dad did the concept of forever scare you when you were a kid?”

    My dad: “Of course.  It still scares me.”

    Child Toni: “I don’t want to be dead forever.  I really don’t want it happening for that long.  Why can’t it just be over? What does the after life have to be so long?”

    My dad: “Well, the idea of eternity in the western mind is very linear.  Like a line that just extends forever in one direction.  But the Greeks thought of eternity as cyclical.  So they had this concept called Telos, which means coming full circle.  That always makes me feel better.  To think of time as a circle not a line.”

    Child Toni: “Okay.  Can I have fruity pebbles for breakfast?”

    My dad: “Maybe another time.”

    Even though I had these fundamental questions that made me feel unsettled, I would go to church every Sunday, and I would think.  I would contemplate the concepts of life and death.  I wondered about mortality constantly, but never felt like I was getting any closer to comprehending it.  And then when I actually lost someone I truly loved and cared about I finally understood.

    When I was 20 my best friend died, and it broke me.  She was an angel of a person, and the tragedy crushed my soul.  But I realized that if I still let myself love her, that we would still be connected.  There was an energetic tie that kept us together even if she was no longer living on the planet.   I allowed myself to love her just as much as I ever did and even though I missed her more than anything, I still felt close to her.  I had to let go of the expectation I would ever see her again in a way that my human mind understood, but I would forever hold on to how much she meant to me.

    And then spirituality started to make sense… even if in a very esoteric way.  Thinking in terms of love, energy, vibration, and connection.  It was around the time that my friend died that I started getting interested in Yoga. And through my physical practice came the introduction to the philosophical and spiritual elements.  Although I have never actively studied eastern religion, over the years I have had many experiences with meditation and chanting.  And it is through those practices that have helped me find a small semblance of inner peace.

    It is when I am meditating or chanting that I can turn off that voice in my head that keeps chirping.  The connection to “Godliness” or “spirituality” I think can only truly be felt when the chatter of the ego is quieted.  It’s hard to have a spiritual moment while your ego is saying in your mind’s ear “I think yellow suede boots would make my butt look tighter.”

    So I meditate and chant to help quiet my inner mind.  But I realize that I don’t really even know what I am saying half the time.  I bring The Munch to Kirtan where we chant in Sanskrit, and I could be singing how “I want a pigeon to peck my armpits” for all I know.  But I go because I believe there is healing in mediation and chanting.  That it connects you to the vibration of the universe.  Through those channels you can find moments of genuine noiselessness in your mind in heart.  It is in that silence where the truth is hidden.

    The Munch loves going to Kirtan and all the other new-agey things I drag her to.  She sings along, plays with her babies, and emulates the weird dancing of hippies swaying their bodies around while failing their limbs.  But hopefully through these experiences she will contemplate the greater mysteries of existence and one day find her own beliefs.

    (Notice that Munch is wearing her lady bug bathing suit…)

    spirituality-blog-(i)

    May 22, 2013 • 2 years old, Adventures, Education, Mommy Mind, Musings • Views: 6388

  • I Want To Be With you… and Eat You

    It is nice to be sought after.  To have someone express there desire to be around you.  The idea that a person desperately wants to spend time with you is flattering.  A nice little boost to the ego.  But when that being happens to be sort of crazy because their brain is only semi-formed, things can get a little intense.  Especially when they are really possessive and quasi-canibalistic.

    Lately The Munch has been particularly demanding of my attention.  She wants to engage with me every chance she gets, and is much more interested in interacting with me than playing by herself.  I figure like all things, this is a phase, and I should go with the flow.  She is mostly fun to be around, even though she tells the same story about her baby doll going poops in her diapi and wanting lollipop ice cream.

    But it can also be overwhelming being the center of someone’s universe, especially because The Munch is in a constant state of stimulus.  Sometimes I want to be like “kid, get off my nuts,” but that confuses her because I wasn’t eating any.

    Yet as exhausting as it can be, she does make me laugh.

    The comedy began this morning when The Munch wanted me to do her hair.

    Munch: “Mamma, can you braid my hair like Pippi Longstockings?”

    Toni: “Sure!  Wait Munch you have to keep your head still?”

    Munch: “Hahahahahahahah”

    Toni: “Munch you have to stop shaking your head if you want me to braid your hair.”

    Munch: “Okay.”

    Toni: “Alright…. (I would start for one second, and then she would start shaking her head again). Munch! You have to stop wiggling your head around!”

    Munch: “Hahahahahahahahahahaha.  Okay.”

    Toni: “Let me try again… Ahhhhhhhh!”

    Again, two seconds of me trying to braid her hair, and then her wiggling her head back and forth like Stevie Wonder in the groove. She did this for 25 min.  I know I was encouraging her because it was making me laugh… but it was just so ridiculous.  I don’t know why I kept trying. Probably because I thought she would look really cute.

    Then she decided she wanted to play a game with me.

    Munch: “Mamma, can you do me a favor?”

    Toni: “Sure.”

    Munch: “Can you play hide and seek with me?”

    Toni: “Okay.  I will count to twenty and you hide.”

    Munch: “Okay!!”

    Alright, so I would count to twenty, look up, and The Munch would be standing next to a tree looking right at me.  I could completely see her.

    Toni: “Munch! I can see you! You have to hide.”

    I would count again, and the same thing would happen.

    Toni: “Munch listen to me.  You have to hide so I can’t see you and I have to look for you. So if you can see me, pretty sure I can see you too okay?”

    Munch: “Okay”

    I counted to twenty, looked up, and there she was standing next to the same tree – but with her back to me.  I decided that was a good enough try, and indulged her and pretended I was looking for her.

    Toni: “Hmmmm is Munch behind the bushes?”

    Munch: “No Mamma! I am over here! Next to the tree!”

    Then we go over to her cousin’s house to play.  We are all roughhousing, pretending to be monsters and lions, and I am tickling them both.  At one point I was paying too much attention to her cousin and The Munch bit me.  It was right when we were about to leave, so I decided to talk to her about it when I was brining her to the car.

    Toni: “Munch, while we were playing, I felt you bite me.  Did you bite me?”

    Munch: “No?”

    Toni: “Munch I felt you bite me.  It was not nice.  Was it an accident?”

    Munch: “No.”

    Toni: “That makes Mamma very angry.  Were you jealous that I was paying attention too Calvin? Because I think you bit me on purpose.  Did you?”

    Munch: “Yes?”

    Toni: “So why did you bite me?”

    Munch: “Because I wanted to eat you.”

    Ahhhhhh I guess love is loving someone so much that you want to consume them entirely and eat them.  Kind of makes sense.

    i-wanna-be-with-you-blog-(i)