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  • Top Ten Reasons Being an Adult Sucks

    1. You spend all your time making money, so you can spend all your money making time.
    2. You work hard to buy a home just to work as hard inside your home.
    3. There is no summer vacation from your job – unless you work at a school but then you are back at school.
    4. There are young people who poop their pants and old people who poop their pants who you are expected to take care of.
    5. All the power of your imagination that once relished in creating characters out of toothpicks turns into an anxiety that can only be suppressed with the right combination of Xanax and white wine.
    6. Your body starts to breaks down as various folds of flesh fall while orifices and crevasses emit an increasingly distinct odor.
    7. You wake up tired.
    8. You have to watch what you eat – not just as it comes towards your mouth.
    9. Once thrilled by the chase of childhood tag, you’re are now pursued and haunted by failed dreams.
    10. You are that much closer to death.

    (Yup… this picture pretty much sums up my adult life)

    10-reasons-adults-suck-blog-(i)

    August 8, 2014 • Musings • Views: 9999

  • Parents Can Be Really Annoying

    Parents can be really annoying.  I know everyone has their own style, and who am I to judge really, but sometimes I do anyway.  And do you want to know why? Because I fucking can that is why.

    Yesterday The Munch and I went to the beach because she wanted to go swimming.  Forget that the lake was ice 3 weeks ago.  The Munch has no concept of time and as far as she is concerned its summer.  I figured she doesn’t have balls that are going to get all small and silly looking, so why not swim in 50-degree water.

    At first we are the only ones there. Her little naked body skittering across the sand like a crab.  It was a peaceful scene.  I felt like the animals weren’t disturbed by our presence.  The trees embraced us with their shadows.  We weren’t interfering with the Zen of place.

    Then this father came with his two sons.  At first I thought it might be fun and The Munch would have others to frolic with, but the dad instantly got really annoying.  He would not stop barking orders at his kids.

    “Josiah! Josiah! Don’t climb up there.  That’s not yours.  Come down and get in the water.  No. Noah! Don’t go over to those swings.  We have crap like that at home.  Get in the water.  We came here to play in the water.  Josiah!! Josiah!! GET OUT OF THAT BOAT! Don’t sit in there.  Noah quit it! Don’t go on those docks. Josiah, stop poking at the sand like that.  NOAH! I told you to get in the water.  We have a slide at home.”

    All the meanwhile he was on his phone emailing! Now I am all for entertaining yourself with your phone when your kids are boring you, but then pay attention to your dumb phone.  If I am on my phone looking at Facebook do you think I give a flying fuck in a rolling doughnut if my kid is sitting in a docked boat that safely nestled on the sand and is pretending to drive it?  Not at all.  As long as you are not bothering me, I am not going to bother you.

    Of course I didn’t know these kids, and maybe they are total terrors and extremely destructive – but there really wasn’t much you could have damaged.  It’s not like they were going to tear down the swing set with their bare hands and crap in the sandbox.  They were just having fun.  I really didn’t get why the dad had to micromanage and dictate their every move.  Rather than spending all that energy yelling at them how to play, he could have just played with them.  Or hung out on his phone and be preoccupied with that.  I would have so much rather heard the noises of children enjoying their time then some 40 year old man screaming at them.

    And you know what? The kids, although rambunctious were perfectly nice humans.  The older one even came up to talk to The Munch and me:

    Josiah: “Did you know I was at my uncle’s house today?”

    Toni: “No actually I didn’t.

    Josiah: “Yeah. My cousins were there.  I have one cousin Mark who is 11, and he has brown hair.  Then another cousin Kevin ,who is 8 and his pants got really dirty.  Then Lydia who is 9 but I don’t really talk to her that much. I am 5.  Then my dad came and got us.  But I am pretty sure my uncle stayed at home.  Because he didn’t come with us.  I actually don’t know where he is now.”

    Then the dad came up and said, “Watch out.  He can talk your ear off all day.” And I was like … ummmmm he is sitting right there dude.  He can hear you.  Fine this wasn’t the best story I ever heard, but now I know all about this kid’s uncle and cousins so there wasn’t nothing gained.  The dad didn’t have to put down his kid because his son chatting to me embarrassed him.  He should have been embarrassed by his behavior of being a bossy prick for the past half hour.  I would talk to Josiah all day about dirty pants brown hair, Mark, Kevin, Lydia, and this absentee uncle if it meant you would shut the fuck up dad.

    parents-annoying-blog-(i)

    May 8, 2013 • 2 years old, Adventures, Behavior, Disciplining, Musings, Parenting • Views: 1706

  • 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)

  • 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!

    talking-animals-blog-(i)

     

  • 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)

  • Got Your Nose! (But Seriously, Give it Back)

    You know those fun little games adults used to play on you when you were a kid?  Like grabbing a quarter from behind your ear, or pretending to get your nose and then using their thumb as a decoy.  Remember how sweet and innocent that was?

    So I decided I would play those game with The Munch.  I gently tugged on her nose, ever so slightly, and said the expected phrase “I got your nose” showing her the supposed nose between my fingers.  She of course thought this was delightful, and quite hilarious.  So I thought to myself.  “I have done a good thing.  I have passed down this generational gift, and now she too can experience the nostalgia.”

    Yeah, that was until she tried to get my nose – and almost ripped the thing off my face!!  Now I live my life in total terror.  Out of nowhere she can attack me with her ninja skills, try to tear my nose bone out of my skull, and then sweetly say “I got your nose Mamma.”  I am not sure if she is a sadist, or genuinely doesn’t understand that you are not supposed to literally detach my nose from my body.

    I should have quite while I was ahead, but instead I had to push it.  I tried the trick of mysteriously finding the quarter behind her ear.  Again, this brought her much joy, until I tried to put the quarter back into my pocket.

    “That’s my Money Mamma!! MINE!!! AHHHHHHHHHH DON’T TAKE IT!!!!”

    Okay fine keep it – you capitalist.

    Then later on that day she started taking her filthy little nails and scraping the back of my ear.  And mind you, these things are sharp!

    “Ow Munch.  What are you doing to my ear?”

    “I am looking for the money?”

    “No munch there is no money behind Mamma’s ears.  It was just a magic trick.  Its not real.”

    “It is real!! There is money behind your ears!! AHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!! I WANT IT!!”

    So now not only do I have a bloody nose, but also bleeding ears that are sort of falling off my head.  Barely hanging on by a string of ear flesh.  Think I am going to stick to games like “go fish” from now on.

    (Check out Munch in her old-timey coat and pocket book!)

    got-your-nose-blog-(i)