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• Maybe My Kid Should Start Smoking

  

  So this whole weaning thing has been wayyyyyyyyy dramatic today.  I knew this was going to be the case, which was why I have avoided it for so long.  I feel as if I am seriously detoxing The Munch.  Like she has been addicted to my tit juice and now she is in a state of total withdrawal.

  When kids breastfeed oxytocin is released, which is considered the bonding hormone, or the “love” chemicals of our brain.  So literally your baby gets high as fuck on love.  No wonder The Munch is so attached to the process! It is like nursing reboots her operating system and she is shot up with the love drug.

  So taking that away from her is somewhat traumatizing.  Not only for the ritual that she has become accustomed to, but also because The Munch’s body chemistry is used to that love boost.  So to take that away from her is this serious crash to her eco system.  Beyond the fact that it makes her feel comforted, The Munch is having to adjust to a life of total sobriety.

  Munch spent most of the morning asking for to do “nana” and I kept trying to distract her with cake, lollipops, and letting her watch Mickey Mouse Club House.  I was letting her indulge in every decadence I usually keep her away from, but by the time it was 2pm she had 60 grams of sugar surging through her veins and her eyes were bleeding from staring at the computer screen for 2 hours.

  It was exactly naptime, which is the key time she would usually breastfeed to fall asleep, and that is where everything fell apart.

  Today was the second full day without “nana” and I endured one of the hardest parenting moments of my life.  Unlike if a guy were crying in my face because he wanted to suck on my boobs, I actually cared about Munch was going through.  Obviously breastfeeding a toddler is not just about nutrition or their immune systems, but there is a huge emotional component as well.  She wept as if she were in a genuine state of mourning.  The expression on her face was so tormented I couldn’t help but cry too.  There was something so pure and primal about her distress.  The Munch was in a genuine state of suffering, and I felt like nothing could console her.  She was grieving that she had to leave behind this very important part of her existence.  I tried to rationalize with Munch, but I was useless through my tears as I watched this creature I love sob with such passion.  So I held her and let her weep thinking that if she were every going to move forward, it would only be through confronting her pain completely.

  Munch: “Please Mamma, please!!! I want to do nana! PLEASE!”

  Toni: “Munch, Mamma’s nanas don’t work anymore.  They only work for 3 years, and now that you are 3, they don’t work!”

  Munch: “But please Mamma! Just one side!! Please!!!!!!!!!”

  Toni: “Munch, I can’t.  The nana gnomes came on your birthday and took my nanas away, and now they don’t work anymore.  The nana gnomes brought them to the new babies being born so they can have nana.”

  Munch: “But Mamma please!! I really want to do nana!! Please Mamma PLEASE!”

  Toni: “But listen Munch, the nana gnomes have planed a really big surprise for you. To celebrate the end of nana.  Tomorrow there are going to be fireworks in the sky just for you!  The are like giant fairies that explode in the sky!! And it is all for you! Because they are so happy that you don’t do nana anymore!”

  Munch: “But Mamma I really really really want to do nana! Please! And I want you to wear a dress.”

  Toni: “You want me to wear a dress?”

  Munch: “A pink dress and tights. And I really want to do nana!!” PLEASE MAMMA PLEASE!!

  This went on for a while.  Finally, after I thought my heart was going to crumble, The Munch decided she would eat some cake instead.  So I let her have her 3^rd piece of the day, and then strapped her to my back to take a walk so she could sleep.  As she slept my friend Gita and I saw a bald eagle.

  Gita: “Maybe it is a sign that you are doing the right thing with Munch.”

  Toni: “Maybe it is a sign that America is becoming extinct since tomorrow is the 4^th!”

  The afternoon with Munch was peaceful.  I am hoping that our moment was her final lamentation of what was, and she has moved on.  That she had fully face her sorrow in order to truly let go.  Of course Munch will probably be in her 20s and still think that fireworks are for the celebration of her no longer doing nana, but I am thinking that is okay.

  I wish I could have gotten my hands on some Kiddy Klonopin for The Munch, or maybe I should have gotten her into smoking to make this transition easier.

  

  July 4, 2013 • 1st time for everything, 3 years old, baby body, baby brain, Behavior, Breast Feeding, Mommy Body, Mommy Mind, Parenting, Talking and Not Talking, Toddler Thoughts, Women's Business • Views: 4372

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• Maybe Being High is Really Fun?

  

  Call me old-fashion, but I don’t let my 2-year old do drugs.  Even though I am well aware that drugs can be amusing, I am pretty sure it is frowned upon to let your kids indulge in mind-altering substances.

  Because I am such a square, so far my child’s life has been a sober one.

  I try to minimize her exposure to temptations.  I force The Munch to subsist on kale and quinoa , so she doesn’t get a lot of treats or yummies with sugar.  The most wild I get is letting her indulge in a granola bar.  I know.  Shit be getting crazy up in here!

  But every one in a while The Munch gets offered sweets by other people, and when those opportunities come she is on it like brown on brown rice.  Her sexy baby sitter brought her a chocolate the other day and Munch was so excited her eyes almost ruptured out of her face.

  She ate the chocolate with such delight and savored it for almost half an hour.  Taking tiny little caterpillar sized bites so as not to rush the experience.  When she was done, The Munch was high as fuck.  She was talking fast, running around, getting grand ideas about the future, wanting to start a band with me….  It reminded me a lot of my party days of the past.

  I really do think sugar is a type of drug, and just like drugs when it becomes an addiction it’s problematic. But I am not villainizing drugs or sugar – just the way it is overused and abused by humans.  People often turn to substances as a way of avoidance, and an unhealthy dependency can form.  But watching Munch made me remember that like drugs, sugar in moderation is fun as fuck.

  The Munch was as happy as a fish in the rain.  It was like her life was suddenly in Technicolor and she was the girl with kaleidoscope eyes.

  

   

  June 27, 2013 • 1st time for everything, 2 years old, baby body, baby brain, Behavior, Eating, Musings, Parenting • Views: 3786

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• Can’t I Just Be A Big Baby?

  

  Although kids are cute and all, they can also be as irritating as an over used fuck hole.  Everyone is always telling me to “appreciate every moment, they grow up so fast!” Yeah yeah yeah… Even though I know this to be true, and the years may be short with your child – the days are long.

  But I don’t blame kids for being annoying.  Children are in a constant state of growth, and that is exhausting.  They are having to learn new things daily, and are expected to adapt that knowledge while more and more input is flooding their tiny, still developing brains. It’s hard enough for me to learn someone’s name.

  I think one of the hardest things about being a toddler is the transition from being an infant into a child.  The Munch has actual memories of being a baby.  She recalls me holding her all the time, and having everything done for her.  But now she is expected to “be a big girl” and do things on her own.

  On the one hand I am sure being capable of new things is empowering for The Munch. That she enjoys her new found freedom of being self-sufficient.  But at the same time, being a baby kicks ass.  If I could live my life as one big baby you better believe I would.

  I feel like The Munch is nostalgic for those times and it manifests with this one constant request that she makes every day of my life:

  Munch: “Carry me Mamma.”

  Toni: “Munch, you are too heavy.  You’re a big girl now.  You can walk.”

  Munch: “NO CARRY ME!!!!!!”

  Toni: “Dude, it is like 700 degrees out.  If I carry you my arms are going to melt off.”

  Munch: “But Mamma, please carry me! I LIKE TO BE CARRIED!”

  Well I do too kid… I do too.

  

   

  June 26, 2013 • 2 years old, baby body, baby brain, Behavior, Family Drama, Musings, Parenting, Talking and Not Talking • Views: 4596

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• How To Like Your Family Even When You Don’t

  

  The love you feel for your family is different than the love you feel for those you don’t share DNA with.  It is almost as if the love is choiceless.  Despite everything, you have to love them in this primal desperate way.  You know them on a cellular level, and even if their personalities are slightly repugnant, there is still a connection.  We are bonded to those we share blood with.

  The parent-child relationship is probably the most complex because there are so many strings attached.  The child needs the parent to keep them alive/safe, and the parent then feels some sense of ownership over their kid.  As the child ages into an adult, sometimes these dynamics are so deeply embedded into the relationship that it is difficult to respect each other.  It can be hard to find the friendship when there has been this distinct role of the superior and the subordinate.  The child who is always seeking approval from their parent, or the parent who is never satisfied with their child is one of many power struggles that can infect the love.

  That is why having things in common with your family can bring you together despite the complexity of past resentments or failed expectations.  No relationship is every perfect, but the more you share, the more time you will want to spend together.  If you have similar interests, then that are always activities you can together to reinforce the attachment.

  Since The Munch is only 2, I can’t exactly say that we like to do the same things.  I mean, playing in the sandbox and ordering people around is great, but when that person who is being ordered around is me – it kind of loses its charm.  We don’t always see eye to eye on what we want to do with our day, and I feel like I do a lot of the compromising.  I mean, reading Pippi Longstockings 19 times is not exactly what I call the best afternoon of my life, but I will do it for The Munch because I know its good for her brain… and I want her to be the smartest kid ever so I look good.

  One thing we do have in common is dance.  We go into my barn where I do my dances, and The Munch does hers.  Usually we do our own things, but  today  The Munch decided she would make up some moves for me to perform.

  Munch:  “Lift your left toe and put it over here on the window, then over the spider… twirl around 3 times – then fall on the floor. But don’t hurt yourself.  But hit your head and cry.  Then get up and jump like a frog like this.  Then go back and forth. Run to the mirror.  Shake your bum 20 times like this, then lift your right leg all the way to the ceiling.  Move your arms up and down, run over here, then fall down again. But this time, hurt yourself.”

  And I would do exactly as she articulated because that was some pretty imaginative choreography.

  “5,6,7,8 and walk 2,3,4…”

  

  June 3, 2013 • 2 years old, baby body, baby brain, Behavior, Family Drama, Musings, Parenting, Relationships, Talking and Not Talking • Views: 2665

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• Sharing means let me have all of it

  

  The Munch is kind of selfish.  That or she has a major interest in candy.  Hard to tell which is the real motivation in this story.

  There were three lollipops.  At first The Munch was actually quite generous and wanted to share them with me and my friend Gita.  We each had one, and were eating them at our own pace- hers being the fastest.  She soon realized that her lollipop was smaller than mine.

  Munch: “Mamma, lets trade.”

  Toni: “Hmmmm okay…. Not sure if this is exactly what you would call a fair trade. But I love you so….”

  Soon after our “trade” The Munch and I had both finished our lollipops, but Gita still had hers.

  Munch: “Auntie Gita lets trade.”

  Gita: “Munch, your lollipop is finished.  So we can’t really trade.  But I can share mine with you.”

  Munch: “Okay lets share.  But it’s my turn now.”

  Gita let Munch have a turn, then Gita took a turn, then Munch and eventually Gita and I forgot about the lollipop and started having a conversation.

  Gita: “Did you read that article I sent you?”

  Munch: “Mamma, look, look, look, watch me.”

  Toni: “Wait, what did you say?”

  Munch: “Mamma, did you see me jump so high?”

  Gita: “The one about the artist who….

  Munch: “Mamma, Mamma, Mamma, do you like spiders?”

  Toni: “What? Which article?”

  Munch: “Mamma, Mamma, Mamma, Mamma, I need a new pair of tights, can you go get me some?”

  Gita: “You know the one….”

  Munch: “Mamma, Mamma, Mamma, Mamma, Mamma, Mamma, Mamma, Mamma, my shoes are falling off can you fix them?”

  Toni: “Wait what?? Munch I am trying to talk to Auntie Gita you need to give me a moment.”

  Munch: “Mamma, Mamma, Mamma, Mamma, Mamma, Mamma, Mamma, Mamma, Mamma, Mamma, Mamma, Mamma, Mamma, Mamma, Mamma, Mamma, Mamma, Mamma, Mamma, Mamma, Mamma, Mamma, Mamma, Mamma, Mamma, look I took off my shoes and tights to jump.”

  When The Munch finally went into the other room, I wasn’t questioning what she was doing.  Suddenly everything was quiet and I could talk for a moment.  It was a luxury to have 10 minutes of uninterrupted conversation.

  She then came back with the lollipop stick, sans lollipop.

  Toni: “Hey! What were you were doing in there?”

  Munch: “I ate the lollipop all up!”

  Gita: “Munch, I thought we were sharing the lollipop?”

  Munch: “Yeah…. Not any more.”

  

  May 16, 2013 • 2 years old, baby body, baby brain, Behavior, Eating, Family Drama, Health, Talking and Not Talking • Views: 2874

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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?

  

   

  May 3, 2013 • 2 years old, Adventures, baby body, Family Drama, Pee & Poop, Talking and Not Talking • Views: 2601

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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.

  

   

  May 1, 2013 • 2 years old, baby body, baby brain, baby products, Behavior, Current Events, Parenting, Women's Business • Views: 45776

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• 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)

  

   

  April 15, 2013 • 2 years old, baby body, baby brain, Family Drama, Health • Views: 2772

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• The Forbidden Fruit Has Been Tasted

  

  It happened.  My child has been exposed.  She experienced the taste of sin. A drug she will battle with, and probably abuse many times.  And I am not talking black tar heroin, because we already kicked that habit when she was 18-months.  I am talking about sugar.

  It started innocently enough. With an organic, vegan, gluten-free, coconut Popsicle my mom gave her.  The Munch’s unpolluted mind had never even heard such words as cake, candy, or cookies.  But the more she started to understand the world around her, the harder it became to lie about what things were.  She started to look at me with doubt when I insisted that a lollipop was made of fairy skin.

  A birthday cake was the gateway drug.  My friend’s husband offered her a piece.  I almost refused.  I was this close from convincing The Munch that cake was bread with barf spread on top of it.  But it was for free, and he insisted she have a taste.  I figured it was a special occasion, and let her live on the wild side.  How often does one go to birthday parties? It turns out, quite a lot.  Now all she cares about at these stupid parties is the cake. It doesn’t even matter whose party it is.

  I think I was the one who gave her the first cookie.  But it wasn’t my fault.  I was tired, weak, and had my guard down.  I didn’t have it in me to fight against her wrath.  She manipulated me.  And now she knows not only that cookies are fucking delicious, but also what they look like.  This makes going to a store very complicated because she understands that round circles with black dots means that shit is good.

  The ice cream happened with her babysitter… the candy too.  Now The Munch is fully aware just how tasty sugar is.  The only things I have been able to keep from her are chocolate bars.  I told her they were “Mamma crackers” and made out of cat poop.

  Maybe it is not a big deal?  Sugar is a part of life and if I deprive her totally I will only make the forbidden more seductive.  But it is not good for the immune system.  It doesn’t contribute anyway to her her health.  And even if its organic treats she is getting, it doesn’t mean its good for her (although I tell myself that organic ice cream happens to be great for me).

  I am trying not to care too much.  To realize that finding a balance is part of parenting and if I am too controlling about what The Munch eats I could give her a complex.  But her naivety made my life so much easier.  She was totally oblivious to the temptation.  The Munch’s ignorance protected her from feeling the disappointment of lacking – or maybe more important it protected me from her.  Now she knows what she is missing when I say. “no you can’t have that.” The subsequent distress, frustration, horror, and tantrum that follow are because she can taste the vacuum of what could have been.

  Sugar is the first drug children are exposed to.  It has an addictive quality, and also makes you feel high.  The rush.  The hyper manic energy that makes you want to punch a cat in the face.  And then of course the crash, that leads into the depression of being without, that eventually morphs into then the desperate searching for your next fix.  And like the need for drugs, kids will do anything to get their sweets.  Including scream in your face, embarrass you at stores, and weep uncontrollably while shaking in the corner.

  “Hey Mamma! This doesn’t taste like fairy flesh?!”

  

   

  March 19, 2013 • 2 years old, baby body, baby brain, Eating, Health • Views: 9683

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