Is it bad...

... That the only time my two year old will say "please" is when we have candy of some sort? He's particularly susceptible to the lure of Skittles.

And of course, he'll say please for one piece, and then another. Sometimes if you're lucky he'll feel nice enough to say please for a third Skittle. But after that, he's like "Fuck saying please, just gimme the god damned candy!"

Oh, the epic temper tantrums that ensue...

Mother's Day

Parenting is a joy and a burden. Do I hear several 'Amen's in the crowd, as well as commiserating murmurs? Yes, I thought so.

In honor of today, Mother's Day, I bring to you a post I wrote some time back that was supposed to be a guest post on another blog, but never got around to it. Musings on my own insane crotch-spawn. Yes, I called my son a crotch spawn, get over it....

When you have your first child, everyone you know is quick to offer advice, tips, and tricks to help make that first month or so easier. Well, as easy as possible: the simplest tasks, like making a pot of coffee, become a hectic game of “beat the clock”. Will he fall back asleep while the pot is brewing? Can I steal a few minutes to down a cup? Gosh, I’m just so tired…!

All this advice is given, but no one ever really tells you the things you need to know. They all tell you, “You’re going to lose a lot of sleep,” but not a word is mentioned about just how far a human body can go on two hours of rest. You become super-human, discovering reserves of strength and energy, helping you to do dishes, try to clean house, make speedy runs to the store for more diapers or wipes. By the time you finally do get to catch a nap, you feel as if you could sleep for days. How come no one ever warned me about that?

We’ve all heard (and witnessed) the “Mother Bear Syndrome”: come between me and my child, and lives will be lost. Hearing the stories and truly living them is another matter entirely. Thank whatever deity exists, my son has never been threatened, but there have been nights early in his young life where I have woken up in a cold sweat from a nightmare of having my child taken away from me. And it wasn’t even a kidnapper that did it: Child Protective Services had deemed me unfit to raise my child and brought a foster family to my home to take him. Kidnapping may not be that common an occurrence any more, but with the way the world has turned, when it has reached the point of spanking your child gets you arrested, that particular bad dream could happen all too easily. I have never felt such a strong instinct to protect at all costs, and it can be shocking the first time you realize it has hit you too.

When you have friends who have spawned before you, they are always gushing about this milestone or that. You smile and offer congratulations, but deep down, you really don’t understand what the big deal is, am I right? That too gets flipped on its head when you bring life into this world. The first smile, or the first time your son or daughter responds to their name… It’s magical. You would willingly throw your life away to ensure happiness for this tiny pink bundle, swaddled in blankets and cute clothes. You make so many sacrifices to try and make life better for them with no guarantee that it will pay off in any way, shape or form, but then one day they look at you and their lips curve, their face lights up, and all you can feel is the instant explosion of happiness and joy: he smiled at Mommy. He knows you’re talking to him. He knows the scent of you, the sound of your voice. And suddenly, all the sleepless nights, the frantic worry, the hope you can make a better tomorrow, as cheesy and cliché as THAT might sound, all become worth it.

Parenting is by no stretch of the imagination easy, and to some people, the reward it brings may not justify the sacrifices you make. But that little smile, to those who do have children of their own to brighten their day, means more than the world.

Happy Mother's Day, folks.

When we last saw our snarky hero, she was ill and without a car. We missed a couple of episodes between then and now, so let's recap.

-Go Mira fixed. Took two days of working from sun rise to set, but she is in full working order. Drove home once it had started snowing (bad idea), at about 9:30 (worse idea). Hit a patch of ice on the highway, spun out, nearly hit a cop car. I spun out because I was slowing down due to the eighty bajillion flashing lights from cops and tow trucks for the four or five people who had hit the same patch of ice and landed in the ditch. Made it home without any further complications.

-Lost a friend. Former Roommate, who sold me the car, insinuated that anything that needed to be fixed was MY FAULT. I'd had the car for all of what, three weeks? A month? Not even I can do that grand of damage to a vehicle. I said some words, he accused me of cheating on my boyfriend, and then started to spread rumors about me sleeping around. What do you expect from someone with a high school mentality? He also made a bet that he could break me and the Redhead up in the month before he moved out of our sleepy lil burg. We laughed in his face and got closer. Way to prove me right about your two-faced nature, Caleb.

-Made a new enemy. When I discover that a... young person of the female variety (because I damn sure won't call her a woman. Whore, maybe) is feeding her 18-month-old daughter Benedryl every night to make her go to sleep, in addition to whoring around while her husband is in Iraq, I am displeased. That's too weak a word; I am RAGING. He deploys, and three weeks later she fucks somebody else in a state on the other side of the COUNTRY. Which she drove his Jeep to get to. She gets pregnant, other guy abandons her, and now she's back in Warrensburg, spreading her legs for any guy that will have her. I cannot abide infidelity, so I sent an email to her husband. And her husband has a heart of gold and wants to believe she can change, and refuses to listen unless I can provide him with solid proof. What, friends that she was staying with witnessing her making out with two different dudes on the couch aren't solid enough? The next morning my car was covered in eggs. I also had a voicemail threatening to sue me for harassment if I didn't quit lying to her husband. Huh. Chris, am I harassing you? No? Thought so.

Let's see, what else... Oh yeah.

I rekindled my love for cooking. Redhead is very happy with this and seems to actually be putting on a few pounds. Not a lot, because he's a scrawny little thing, but a few pounds. For Valentine's Day he bought me stainless steel cookware, which made me squee all over my kitchen, and I've been scouring books and the Intarwebz for new recipes to try. LabRat has a new recipe she did for her Cooking Noob series that looks delicious and I am eager to try out. Bacon-wrapped shrimp? Shit yes!

I have also been watching Hell's Kitchen religiously. I loves me some Gordon Ramsay. For my birthday (which is officially 18 days away, hint hint!) I want to get some of his books, two of which have recipes and one of which is his autobiography. If you order from his website here, all books are signed. I hope to either be given or buy myself the books called Humble Pie (autobiography), Gordon Ramsay's Sunday Lunch (With DVD), and Gordon Ramsay Makes It Easy (with DVD). The man is a cooking genius and I want to mimic some of his meals.

I'm also considering culinary school. And while a lot of people tell me it's easier to just get a job as a cook somewhere and start there, I have been having some difficulty with that. I have tried again and again to get a job cooking at one of the local restaurants, but nobody will hire me because... you guessed it... I have never been employed as a cook. This creates a dilemma, no? Besides... I want to LEARN. If I get a degree in Culinary Management, I can learn the cuisine side of the business as well as how to adequately run a kitchen plus staff. Sounds like a plan to me.

And on the baby front, we have....



TWO TOOFERS! YAY!

I think that's all I have for now. I really am sorry for such a lengthy absence, but every time I sat down to blog, I just... didn't have it in me. Sorry, ya'll. Can you ever forgive me?

Can't Sleep. Clowns Will Eat Me.

Didja miss me?

I thought so.

Sorry I haven't blogged lately. Went to Texas for a week with la familia, and when we came back, there was a weekend-long scramble of getting prepared for classes that started Monday for me, return to daycare for Daniel, and return to work for Ben. And then, yanno, the week of getting back into the swing of classes with new professors, new subjects, and new classmates.

Whoo.

Anyway. I was a genius earlier and fell asleep while playing me some KOTOR on a friend's borrowed Xbox 360 (I gotta get me one o' them, they're fun), and stayed asleep til 9 PM.

Yeah. No sleep for me.

So, time for some late night blogging. Proverbial counting sheep, as it were.

Besides, I know you're just DYING to hear how Texas went, and how my spawnling is doing. Yeah. You are. Don't lie.

Well. Let's start.

Hm.

To start it all off, this was Daniel and Redhead's first commercial flight. Redhead had only gone up in a little two-seater Cessna when his cousin had first got her pilot's license, and that has been some years ago. He'd never even set foot in an airport before the trip down to Texas, specifically Pasadena.

This was gonna be fun.

Redhead's older sister, Hippie Sister, took us halfway to Kansas City, where Redhead's mother picked us up to cart us the rest of the way. Many hugs were had at the airport, with Mom admonishing us to have lots of fun and take lots of pictures! Of course, I promptly forgot my camera at the townhouse most of the time, so not a lot of pictures were to be had. Sad face.

Never having been in an airport, much less flown, Redhead did not know of the joy of going through security. Empty pockets, take of jacket, take off shoes. "My shoes?!" Yes, sweetie, your shoes. Wait for TSA Dood to wave you through, walk through metal detector. Daniel and I went through with nary a blip, but Redhead's necklaces set off the alarm, so he had to back up and go through it once more.

Finally made it, juggling diaper bag, fat babeh, big puffy leather jacket, and my boots, trying not to topple over on my way to a bench. Of course, even sitting down made putting myself back together, because I couldn't exactly put Daniel down. He'd either fall over on the bench and roll off, and I wasn't going to put him on the floor and have every snotty old lady within ten miles berate me for bad parenting. I don't take kindly to that kind of nonsense, nosirree.

Finally got everything back together, and on our way to the gates we went! Then we sat. And sat. And sat. Oh hey, our turn to get on the plane!

We found seats near the back of a very full flight, with Redhead immediately going for a window seat. He didn't want to miss a thing! It was like watching a little kid: very excited, VERY animated. He loved the feeling of taking off and the sharp banking as we circled upwards, gaining altitude. For a bit, anyway.

Daniel handled flying better than Redhead did. Once we hit cruising altitude (for all of fifteen minutes, maybe?), he was fine. But going up or going down made him nauseous as all hell, and I made sure to keep a barf bag handy... just in case. Daniel just bounced and played, and didn't want any part of either a bottle of formula, nor a bottle of juice. Just chew on the nipple and he'd be happy.

Taking Daniel out into a crowd with that many people was cute to watch. I lost count of how many people stopped to comment on just how CUTE he was, whether in the airport or actually ON the plane. Makes Mommy proud, that does.



I mean, how can you argue with something THAT DAMNED CUTE?!?

Now, a note on our itinerary: the cheapest flight we could find for two adults with an infant in the lap, because we is poor young adults, one of which is a college student... We had to change planes in Chicago. Yes, I know what you're thinking. "Wait. Flying from KC to Houston, and you had a stop in CHICAGO?!" It's madness, it really is.

The plan was land in Chicago, refresh ourselves and change diapers in the hour between flights, and be in Houston by 9:30 that night. No big deal.

We touch down in Chicago, and two gates down was where we were supposed to board the next plane. On the way to the bathroom, I see that our connecting flight has been delayed by two hours. So, overall, we were stuck in Midway airport for three. Hours.

FAIL.

Not to mention that, since we had checked the weather and knew before leaving that it was supposed to be nice and balmy, in the 50s all week in Houston, so we didn't take any of our heavy winter gear. No gloves, scarves, hats, extra hoodies for jacket lining, nothing. And Redhead and I both smoke, so we took turns sitting with the baby to go outside to burn one before plane time.

When I took my turn, I was huddled in a corner out of the wind, smoked ONE cigarette, and when I came back in, the first two joints on all my fingers were BLUE.

BLUE, PEOPLE. BLUE.

Srsly fucking cold.

Also, somewhere in there I made a call to my mother, Ducky, to inform her that our plane was delayed. She needed to know, since she would be the one picking us up from the airport.

Much creative swearing later, I hung up. We waited some more, and FINALLY boarded the plane. FINALLY.

I had told my mother I would call her as soon as our tires hit the ground, since she lives close to Hobby, where we were flying into, and she could be outside by the time we got our bags and got out. And I did.

I like flying. It's a fun experience, for me. I just hate airports. Just thought I'd throw that out there. I'm sure many of you agree with me.

Navigating an airport that's busy at 11 PM is not fun. Doubly so when you have a very tired, very cranky infant. But, we made it to baggage claim, grabbed the big duffel bag Redhead and I were sharing and the carseat we had checked, and outside we went, my eyes peeled for the silver Mazda my mother drives.

Just as I spot her car sitting still behind people loading, she calls me. "Should I circle back around again, or park and come find you?" Stay right where you are, Ducky, we're coming to you.

Without warning, her doors are thrown open, and she jumps a little, squeals at seeing her grandbaby, and pops the trunk to put duffels in. She told me she was afraid that after having so many people around him, and not to mention not seeing Gramma Ducky in close to five months, she was terrified Daniel wouldn't remember her.

She need not have worried. She smiled through the back windshield at him while we were loading the trunk of the car, and his entire face lit up.

Before heading to Granny's townhouse, the paternal grandmother whose house I had grown up in, we stopped at Mamaw Wendy's, my maternal grandmother who chainsmokes and drinks beer all weekend long. Yeah, I come from that stock. Explains a lot about my sparkling personality, don't it? Lulz.

Daniel got hugged and bounced and generally spoiled rotten, when Ducky's phone went off. Big brother, Animal, was at the bar a few blocks away, and would appreciate a ride home. It was after midnight, on New Year's Eve, so everybody was starting to file out of the bars that close at 1 AM, and VERY drunk Animal needed a ride. Daniel stayed with Mamaw Wendy for more spoiling, and Redhead and I accompanied Ducky to go pick up Sir Drunk.

Animal was deep in conversation with someone of the female variety when we got there, so we ordered a round of drinks and waited. When he realized Mom was there, he rejoiced in the ecstatic way that only drunks can achieve, and again when he saw me. Laying eyes on Redhead, whom only my mother and younger brother had ever met, his face contorted into a savage scowl, and he snarled, "Who the hell are YOU?!?"

Animal, this is Redhead. "Oh. You're the carrot top." He then got much ragging for not being enough of a gamer geek and never having watched Science Fiction Theater 3000, or whatever the hell that show was. I don't know.

After drinks were consumed, back to Mamaw's we went, where little Daniel watched Animal like a hawk. He did not know what to think of the big drunk guy. After a bit of watching my mother carry Daniel around on her hip, I told her. "Put him down." What? "Put him on the floor, Mom." Giving me a strange look, she did as she was bid, and Daniel took off at a very fast crawl after my grandmother's cat.

Rejoice, for he doth crawl! He wasn't doing that the last time any of them had seen him. They were VERY happy to see he had progressed so far in the time since they'd last seen him. He has such a personality, and as I'm sure I've mentioned, he's so damned cute it's ridiculous.

The night wore on and on, and everyone was exhausted, so we said goodnight. Daniel was going to be staying with Mom for the night, because she had not had a chance to move the crib to the townhouse, and Redhead and I would be staying with Granny and Ginormous Little Brother. We made it in around 3 AM, collapsed in the full size bed my brother had abandoned for the night, and slept until almost noon, with no infant to wake us at asscrack o'clock.

The next morning, or afternoon, whatever you want to call it, we woke up just as I heard my little brother downstairs ask Granny, "When do you think they'll wake up?" I called down that we were awake now, and we shuffled downstairs to fill ourselves with coffee and step outside for a cigarette.

The rest of the week passed in a blur, with a few notable moments:

• Taking Redhead to Galveston. He had never seen the ocean, much less seagulls or pelicans or a sandy beach, and I had to rectify that. He fell in love with the island, and asked me, "If we move down here, can we live in Galveston?" Um. No. Rent's hella expensive, and it ain't worth it. He loved chasing a seagull on the beach, and picked up a handful of seashells that actually washed in from the ocean, ya'll.
  
  
• Palm trees. There were looooots of palm trees, which Redhead had also never seen. He was like a kid in a candy shop every time he saw one. "Look! Palm trees! Can we have one?"
  
  
• Shooting with one of my #GBC buddies, Tomcat. He hosted us at his range, and let Redhead and I shoot til he ran out of ammo. Glock 30, a little Ruger .22, and two AR-15s, once chambered in 5.56, and one that was suppressed .45. Verrah noice.
  
  
  
  He had never shot an Evil Black Rifle before, and he says he thoroughly enjoyed that zombie popper.
  
  
• Letting Redhead eat REAL Texmex, not this fake chain shit they serve in Missouri. Best damn fajita tacos I've ever had are in a little taqueria in Pasadena called the Ranchito. Omnomnom. Good shit, yo.
  
  
• Drove from Pasadena, TX, to Brenham, TX to meet my Aunt Sara for lunch, because she just had to see "her boy". She held him the entire time, feeding him tomatoes from her salad, and he ate half of her baked potato soup. More spoiling.
  
  
• Lunch at the cafe where my mom works, where Daniel got lots of attention from all my mom's customers, and he ate a LOT of grown up food. Boiled carrots, broccoli, and cauliflower from the buffet line, chewed on some chicken fried steak, mashed potatoes, and french fries. Om nom nom nom. Daniel likes eating grown up food like nobody's business. My mother also announced that Redhead was going to eat a REAL chicken fried steak, not that deep-fried cardboard that they serve you at Country Kitchen in Warrensburg. Said chicken fried steak was bigger than his head, and he managed maybe 1/3 of it. He has the appetite of a bird.

We drove around and I showed Redhead Pasadena and South Houston. We had a lot of laughs, a lot of fun, and my family was glad to finally meet the guy who had given them a grandson/great grandson/great nephew/whatever. Ben and I thoroughly enjoyed the warm sunshine and 50 degree weather, taking walks and spending as much time as we could outside. Redhead's mom called to say it had started to snow up here again and sent pictures to my phone as proof, and we were dreading returning to it. Especially due to "blizzard-like conditions" we were supposed to have the night we came back up.

That was complete with a three-hour drive from Kansas City back to Warrensburg. Almost three times as long as it takes to make the trip under good conditions. The entire drive I was whining about how I never should have gotten on the plane.

Alas, I did, and I'm back home now, enshrined in classes and daycare and homework and trying to find a job. Financial aid comes in next week and I'm going to buy a car from a dealership where Former Roommate got his little gas-saver for $1800, with only 90k miles on it. Very bare-bones model, but it's got working AC and heat and a CD player. Not gonna argue with a deal like that.

Now. If only the weather would warm up.

How about some pictures? Ya'll want pictures? Okay.

Also while in Texas, Daniel figured out that bath time is FUN. You can slap the stuff in the tub and this wet stuff SPLASHES YOU. It's AWESOME!







Daniel is just growing so damned much. When school let out for winter break, he wasn't crawling. Now that classes have started back up and he's back in daycare, not only is he crawling, but he's pulling himself into a standing position using furniture. Pretty soon he'll be furniture-surfing, then before you know it, walking.

They really do grow up fast.

And now a giggle-worthy video.



Whoooo. More later. I'm pooped from writing all this stuff. Maybe now I can get some sleep.

Night, ya'll.

We Have Video!

Holy shit on video!

And yes, I'm aware that it sounds like I'm crying. I'm not. I've got a cold and it SUCKS. Not having a car and having to walk to get everywhere kinda does that. Suuuuucks.

Ain't he precious?

Cute Kid Pic - Christmas Edition

HAPPY HAPPY HAPPY HAPPY YAY CHRISTMAS HAPPY WRAPPING PAPER OOH SHINY MAKE NOISE!!!

Yeah, that was Daniel's inner monologue all day, I can just tell. Don't ask me how I know, but I do.

Have some pictures, and even a video.






The last one's a random shot of the snow we woke up to. Got a decent amount, considering none of it was there when I went to bed at 1 AM. At the foot of the walk, there are two steps down to the regular sidewalk along the street. You can't even see where those steps are; tis a good way to fall and twist an ankle pretty bad.






Oh, he had lots of fun. Such a happy baby.



The video is taking forever to upload to Youtube, so in the morning, I'll have the video of him opening his VERY FIRST PRESENT, ZOMG!!!

Squee

I know, I know, I didn't post cute kid pics today. I'm waiting until tomorrow night when I have lots of pictures of his first Christmas before I put one up for the week.

But for now, have a video of him being precious!

Day Late - Cute Kid Pic

Sorry about not posting this yesterday, but it was hella busy.

Since small child is currently sleeping, today's Cute Kid Pics are exactly that: sleep baby pictures!







SO FLIPPIN CUTE!!

Don't buy the toys that make the noise!

So, when I had Daniel, my family bought EVERYTHING. Clothes, blankets, crib sheets, car seat, all SORTS of stuff.

Everything but toys, because, well, it would be a while until he needed toys. A few months, at least.

Well, so far, we've been getting by without toys. But today, while at Country Kitchen with my friends Zak and Crystal, with Daniel enjoying sitting up in the high chair and being a big boy, he got bored. And when he gets bored, he gets LOUD.

Zak looked at him with wide eyes, then told me, "You know, I never got you anything as a baby shower gift. How about I make up for it and buy him toys?"

Sure, that works. I could use them.

So, when Zak took Crystal to pick up her kids, they swung by WalMart and bought toys. And when they came back, I got handed a plastic bag full of toys.

Teething rings, a rattle-thing, a soft toy that pulls out and rattles back in on a line... and a ball thing with rings around it.

That lights up and sings at the slightest touch.

"Whyyyyyyyyy?!"

"Don't look at me, girl. I was on the phone with my mom and Crystal grabbed it. Not my fault.


God damn it.


Title is a quote from Denis Leary

Warning

The small child has started teething.

If you don't hear from me, it's because I'm in prison. Homicide due to sleep deprivation.

Cutest Baby EVAR

So because there have been requests for mein small child from the gunbloggers, here we go!










Look, you even get to see my passed-out backside. Don't you feel privileged?

Parenting Strikes Me

So, I guess this does officially make me a mother, albeit a new one.

I woke up crying this morning from a bad dream. All centered around Daniel.

I don't know how or why or whatever, but in this dream, for some reason, the state mandated that I give my son up to a couple who couldn't have kids. The woman said to me in a snide voice, "Don't worry, we'll take care of him," as if implying I didn't, and I came unglued. I threw things, I sobbed, I screamed, and I tried to claw the bitch's eyes out when she reached out to pick MY baby up.

When I woke up in tears, I immediately busted my ass to his crib to see him peacefully sleeping, and I just had to pick him up and hold him for an hour.

Thank god neither him nor the Redhead woke up to see me like that.

So. Fucking. Scared.

Holy crap

So, I am well aware of the fact that it's been almost two months since I gave you kids a post. I know. I'm sorry. It's been a busy time.

Since Redhead and I didn't have wheels, and with us not having internet at home, the only way I could post would be to haul the laptop to Country Kitchen and use their internet. Problem with that is being a couple of weeks away from my due date and having to walk while carrying that big ass laptop almost two miles. Yeah. Not fun.

But... Friday morning, at 5:19 AM...





So, now I actually have an excuse for the abysmal lack of posts.

He's so precious...