2 years old

  • The Suckyness of Sickness

    Being sick sucks.  When you aren’t feeling well, it is easy to be cranky and feel sorry for yourself.  You are more needy than usual, and you want someone to take care of you.  To make you soup, rub your back, tickle your taint with a feather while peeling grapes with their other free hand.  Reasonable requests.  But as an adult you have the understanding that you will soon heal, and there is only so much another person can do to make you feel better.

    When The Munch is sick, however, she becomes a self-righteous sultan sitting on her diamond and ruby encrusted throne amongst a harem of virgins.  Her tyrannical demands of me are so outlandish that my only way of getting through the day is fantasizing what it would feel like to choke on the armpit hair of a wooly mammoth-human hybrid that just returned from a 6-hour hot yoga session.  What?   You try it… it is really quite distracting.

    This is a transcript of 3-minutes of my day today…. Please multiply this by as many minutes in the day there are… or that Munch is awake and I am dealing with her. You do the math.  I don’t do statistics.

    Munch: “Mamma carry me.”

    Toni: “Munch you are sitting on my lap.”

    Munch: “Mamma carry me.  Mamma carry me. Mamma carry me. Mamma carry me please.”

    Toni: “Munch! You are sitting on my lap!! I am carrying you, but just sitting while I carry you!”

    Munch: “I want a banana.”

    (We go into kitchen to get a banana.  I peel it).

    Munch: “No! No banana… I want hummus.”

    (I go into the fridge, still carrying her mind you, and get out the hummus to give her a some on a cracker).

    Munch: “No hummus Mama.  Munchee wants eggs.”

    (I make her eggs)

    Munch: “No eggs.  I want a banana.”

    (Give her banana)

    Munch: “No banana Mamma.  I want to watch Baby Movie

    (We sit down to watch movie).

    Munch: “I wanna see Mamma!”

    Toni: “Munch you are looking right at me….”

    Munch: “I wanna see baby movie.”

    Toni: “Well Munch if you stopped looking at me and turned around, you would see baby movie.”

    Munch: “Mamma carry me.”

    Toni: “Munch you are sitting on my lap.”

    Munch: “Mamma carry me.  Mamma carry me. Mamma carry me. Mamma carry me please.”





    July 13, 2012 • 2 years old, baby body, Behavior, Health, Talking and Not Talking • Views: 1663

  • Big Brother Is Now!

    I was just recently alerted to this article that explains that President Obama has basically taken control of internet access in the states, as well as our own personal communication.  So if the government wanted to take away your ability to communicate or access information, it could.  Take a moment to digest that… sure… I will let the chilidog pass first… oh… and the cake… okay now… digest that.

    All in the name of “homeland security.”

    Fear is the greatest tool of manipulation.  If you are afraid you will give up all your civil liberties for even just the illusion of safety.  People will put microchips in their kid’s brain if there is a tracking system in it.  If the neighbors are doing it, and all the other kids are micro chipped, you are going to do it too because you don’t want your one non-micro-chipped kid to get abducted by pervert aliens.  No one will feel bad for you if your kid gets stolen… because you should have had them micro-chipped right?  But could you imagine what would happen if every citizen had a freaking micro-chip in their skull that the government could track?

    Okay fine… we haven’t all gotten micro-chipped… yet… and that may seem conspiratorial… but I never thought the government would be able to control who gets to see the internet either!

    This is the RIFD microchip. The size of a grain of rice.  Come to think of it, I think I ate one in my burrito the other day. Am I paranoid? Please don’t take away my internet Mr. President… I am nothing without it.



    July 12, 2012 • 2 years old, Current Events, Political Banter • Views: 1706

  • My kid doesn’t shut up

    I think The Munch is doing cocaine.  She does not stop talking.  Her mouth is yapping the entire time her eyes are open.  She is also constantly repeating her self, so she might be drinking whisky too?  She is getting into something and it sure isn’t Valium.

    Now I don’t want to leave her hanging, so I end of up having some pretty insane conversations throughout my day.  I feel bad letting her just talk into the wind, so even if she tells me she wants grapes 36 times while we are in the car driving home, I will answer her every time that she will get to eat some goddamn grapes when we get home because I am driving and cannot pull grapes out of my ass… anymore… an old injury makes me flare up.

    Munch will also keep talking even if I am having a conversation with someone else. The other day my friend was opening up to me about her fears of moving forward in life, the anxiety of her financial situation, problems with her boyfriend, and every 6 or so seconds I was saying “yes that is a plane” or “you are right, you do have two rocks.”  It kind of made my advice a little strange to tell my friend to “try to come to terms with what you actually have control over and what you… yes Elmo is on your diaper…. don’t…”

    When I put Munch to bed at night she spends at least a half hour pretending to talk on the phone to her self.  She tells stories of her day, and goes through the list of all the people she knows and how they are going “night night.”  This is actually quite endearing to listen to… until that moment when she starts talking shit about me.

    “Wait… what did you just say? I couldn’t hear you over Munch’s explanation of where her tummy is.”

    July 11, 2012 • 2 years old, baby brain, Talking and Not Talking • Views: 3217

  • I love you, but I love me more

    We all love other people.  We think we love them unconditionally, but we probably don’t.  There is at least the condition that you love me back, often the condition that you do what I say, and sometimes even the condition that you don’t use my shampoo.

    Love feels like a selfless act, but is it really?  I love you because I like the feeling of loving you.  I like who I am around you.  I like the way you make me feel about me.  My loving you makes me feel good.

    But when you make me feel bad about me, I love you less.

    I love you, but I love me more


    July 10, 2012 • 2 years old, Musings, Relationships • Views: 2113

  • Smiling In The Face of Life About To Punch You

    When life is going well, we usually feel happy… and when life is not going our way, we often feel depressed.  Our emotional state of mind is intimately connected to external factors, and as a result our inner being is at the mercy of variables we cannot control.  As long as we let the outside world pollute our inside universe, our moods will fluctuate like a drunk girl texting her ex-boyfriend.

    You have no control over some stranger being a dick to you, or a loved one being cruel, or if you wake up to the sound of your cat dry heaving on your pillow.  You have no control over life being shitty, but you do have control over how you react to it.

    Although it is reasonable to be energetically mutable, to dabble in depression and wallow in woes, but there are other ways to react to disappointing stressful times.  I am not saying it is easy… I am just saying it is possible.

    But you need a strategy.  You can’t just tell yourself not to care about something that you care about.  Everyone knows how much it sucks when you are crying about life to a friend who tries to console you by saying “It could be worse…. You could be a starving orphan with an infectious disease of cascading warts and puss filled boils who just got mauled by an ox and blinded by the contamination of its urine which had pooled on your face as it trampled your genitals.”

    Yeah… I get it… a lot of people have it worse, but that doesn’t make my pain go away.  Having perspective of global atrocities doesn’t make losing your iphone any better.

    So how do you control the way you react to life?  I am not sure of this mystery, but I have experienced the freedom of letting go of situations that could poison my soul.  Sometimes a friend will help me laugh my pain away.  Other times I will go to some crazy tripped out yoga class and hold a pose for 11 minutes to cleanse my cells and recalibrate my operating system.  Other times I can listen to my favorite song, or dance my melancholy away.

    The key is remembering that as much life can really suck, it will feel beautiful again soon, and then it will blow again, and then just be okay for a while, and then totally rock, but then get really crappy again.


    July 9, 2012 • 2 years old, Musings • Views: 1636

  • When Life Hands You Lemons

    So when life hands you lemons you should make lemonade?

    Well life didn’t hand me sugar, ice, a pitcher, or a wooden spoon to stir it.  Life handed me some lemons and that is what I am stuck with.  So fuck you life and your stupid lemons.

    July 6, 2012 • 2 years old, Musings • Views: 1648

  • Searching For Meaning

    No matter what happens to me, I am always searching for the greater meaning.  If life is sucking sweaty ball sack I look for the message behind the mayhem, the lesson lurking beneath the scrotum.  When moments of coincidence creep past my cornea, I see the cosmic order and believe it was meant to be.  Finding meaning in life is like uncovering the magic of your story and living the fairy tail of your dreams.

    So needless to say, I am a sucker for psychics, tarot card readings, astrology, the i ching, shooting stars, and fireflies.  Exploring the spiritual connection between the spaces of the unseen.  I think that everything happens for a reason, and it is up to you to finger the right holes.

    The other night on the full moon my friend and I saw a porcupine, so of course I had to run to the computer and research the symbolism of it all.  The porcupine is considered a liaison to the spirit realms, an in between walker that straddles paradoxical realities.  What does this mean??

    July 5, 2012 • 2 years old, Musings • Views: 3854

  • Maybe I am kind of dumb?

    How can you tell if you are smart?  Is your GPA the tell tail sign? Or your SAT score? What about your interest in SNM… wait… I think I got that wrong.

    Does the career you pursue define your intelligence?  Is there some simple and basic barometer that distinguishes the smart from the dumb? An obvious socially accepted criteria that will delineate your position?Can I still be smart even though I do a lot of dumb shit?

    For example… If I were to attempt to read the news in order to inform myself on world issues… I will go to the front page of Huffington Post and start scrolling down to see what peaks my interest.  This is what goes on in my head:

    “Mitt Romney takes money from secret sources…. Duh…. Obamacare… more Obamacare… global warming….depressing… taxes… borning… politics in other countries… don’t really get it… wait… JUSTIN BEIBER HAD A TEMPER TANTRUM?!” and that is the story I click on.

    What is wrong with me?  It is not like I care more about Kim Kardashian’s mom using her daughters for fame than I care about the environment going to shit… but it is stories like that, which catch my attention.

    Am I in total denial of the atrocities of the world and refusing to face the truth to protect myself from the cataclysmic misery of it all?  Or maybe I have over-infiltrated my psyche with conspiracy theories, and everything I read that is supposedly “news worthy” seems like manufactured rhetoric.  That perhaps I have lost faith in not only the government, but also journalism, because all news sources seem to have an agenda.  When I see “Obamacare” I am not immediately assuming that the government and Supreme Court now suddenly truly care about the health of the citizens.  I am instead wondering “okay who is going to make money off of this “reformed” system…. Medicaid? Big Pharma? Hospitals?  The government through mandatory taxes? Who else? Someone is still going to be making money… it is not just about the people being healthier.  What is the catch?”

    Or maybe I am just dumber than I thought?

    Come on… tell my you don’t want to read about the former teen prostitute’s lingerie fashion show!?


    July 4, 2012 • 2 years old, Current Events, Musings • Views: 1819

  • My Philosophy On Spanking

    According to this article, 90% of parents spank their children as a form of discipline.  It then goes on to explain that spanking is no more effective than other forms of punishment, and perhaps can cause more damage than its worth.  Teaching them that hitting is okay, shaming them, and hurting them.

    I know some people think that kids these days are feral brats with no sense of boundaries that would benefit from a good whooping.  But according to this article they are getting spanked, but behind closed doors.  It is less likely you are going to see someone smacking their kid around in public, but it is still happening.

    So it looks like kids these days are a bunch of assholes for other reasons then not getting hit enough.

    I would never spank Munch because I really don’t feel like that would make her better understand what I am trying to communicate to her.  I think that is best accomplished through emotional manipulation and making her feel guilty.  Duh.

    Check out this pretty epic info graphic here on the psychology of spanking….

    My personal philosophy on spanking is to keep it in the bedroom ;o)



    July 3, 2012 • 2 years old, Disciplining, Parenting • Views: 5590