Saturday, February 28, 2009
I am tired of not having ANYTHING of my own. If I am eating, he is hovering around wanting some. If I have a drink and make the mistake of getting up to answer the phone or go to the bathroom, he drinks it. If my purse is left within reach, he is digging around in it and taking whatever he wants into his room.
Nothing is off limits or just mine. I've tried to instill that idea in him that I'm a real person who needs to eat and drink and likes to have stuff of her own, and I've pointed out that I don't mess with his stuff or eat half of everything on his plate, but it makes no difference to him.
I just got back from the bathroom to find him in his bedroom behind his crib drinking my Coke (that he pulled a chair up to the counter to reach...I'm not foolish enough to think I could keep a drink on the coffee table where I could reach it myself without getting up each time I wanted a sip) and I'm ready to lock him in his room the rest of the day.
Friday, February 27, 2009
As I began to pull away, I looked in the rear view mirror and noticed that instead of walking into school, Big Kid had hopped off of the curb to get a piece of paper in the road. He was crouched down and a van was pulling forward and I could tell the mom driving couldn't see him and Big Kid didn't see her coming.
My heart seriously stopped. I truly believed I was about to watch my kid get crushed under the wheels of a van.
I slammed on the brakes and covered my mouth as I cried out and luckily the Vice Principal immediately noticed something was up and quickly realized what was happening. He yelled out and threw both hands up at the van to stop, while one of the safety patrol girls pulled Big Kid back up onto the sidewalk.
My heart is still pounding. I wanted to jump out and hug and yell at Big Kid and hug and yell the safety patrol girls and just plain hug the vice principal, but in the interest of keeping traffic moving I drove on.
I will hug and yell at Big Kid when I pick him up though.
Thursday, February 26, 2009
I think I told you all awhile ago that I got tricked into getting an account to see a friend's photos, and then started getting a flurry of friend requests that freaked me out, so I deleted the account immediately and never gave it another thought.
Then my boss started convincing me it was great for networking, and everyone always looked so disappointed when I said I didn't do it and people were always talking about it...and I broke down and signed up again.
Let me say it loud and clear:
I HATE FACEBOOK.
Hate is not too strong a word here either. H-A-T-E.
First off, you know how I get a little paranoid. Lately Google is freaking me out a bit and I'm not entirely convinced that they aren't positioning themselves to take over the world.
Add Facebook to the mix, wanting to know everything about you from your first grade teacher to your blood type, along with everyone you've ever met, and I'm just feeling tremendously freaked out about the whole thing. I didn't answer any of their data mining stuff factually and checked the security settings immediately, but it makes me uncomfortable.
Secondly, the whole thing is still very weird to me. I've got people poking me, kicking me in the groin, sending me fish, I'm seeing all kinds of stranger's drunken weekend photos, reading what people I knew from 2nd grade had for breakfast...almost every time I sign on there's a "WTF?" sort of moment waiting for me. I just don't fully understand it yet and it seems confusing.
Also, it's like having everyone I've ever known in one big room together...which is pretty much my worst nightmare.
Clearly, I'm too crazy for Facebook. I won't delete it because I really want to like it and I'm hoping it will grow on me. It's slow growing right now though.
He replied, "You do need a snuggie, you know why? Blankets are okay but they slip and slide and when you go to reach somefing your hands are trapped inside. You know what else about da snuggie? You can have dem when you're gettin' up, not like a blanket. Snuggies are better than blankets. You can get dem at walgreens or on tv, we need at least two."
That's my boy, a natural born salesman!
There has got to be a way that this kid could make me rich.
Tuesday, February 24, 2009
On Friday, I was waiting in the car rider area with the other moms who are there every day...not talking because we never talk. None of us. It is very awkward and strange and whenever I do attempt communication, I end up regretting it because talking is even more awkward.
Well, remember the mom who took Big Kid out to the patio for lunch and then made a big deal out of his empty lunch box, never assuming that it was obviously a mistake and that she should help him get a lunch somehow? She was out there too. She looked up at me as I approached and then turned around to face the hallway. I know she saw me, but we never talk and that's fine with me so I thought nothing of it.
Finally the kids come out and as I take Big Kid's hand and begin to walk away, she stopped me and said, "Oh, I have to tell you something really funny that happened today."
I felt uneasy right away, since she's done this to me before and our definitions of funny differ, and because I thought it was annoying that she was stopping me now, noisy kids streaming by, adults crowded into us, bullhorn blaring, when we had just been standing there in silence moments before.
"Today was the walk-a-thon; I volunteered. A lot of the moms did, actually, I was surprised you didn't."
Mmmmkay, I thought. Let's get to the funny.
"Miss D told the kids to all go get their jackets and Big Kid said, 'I don't have a jacket because my mom was too lazy to pack me one." Then she laughs.
"That's not funny," I told her, turning to Big Kid, "Why did you say that? I didn't pack you a jacket because it is warm and sunny out," I told Big Kid.
"Well, we were all cracking up. It was very funny. All of the moms thought it was." she replied before walking off.
What a bitch, am I right? I think she's spoken to me two times total (and our kids have both been to each other's birthday parties, so we have done outside of school stuff together) and both times were to tell me "funny" stories about my inadequacies as a parent. Both times were "funny" stories that I wouldn't have relayed to the mom if I was the one to have overheard it, because most of us are better off not knowing the crazy crap our kids are telling people about us.
Also, we all know that there must be Big Kid stories that actually are funny and that aren't related to how much I suck, so why doesn't she share those?
I do feel the need to state that it has been in the high 70s/low 80s and clear and sunny every day this week. I haven't even seen anyone with a jacket, nor do I think one is necessary.
I just think it's really weird that she only speaks to me when she has some story like this to relay. Whatever.
Thanks Big Kid.
Now, yesterday I was library mom (note to self: next time you feel the urge to volunteer for a full year in an elementary school, stab yourself in the eye with a fork instead and call it a day) and some kid gets in the seat Big Kid had decided was his. This was not a big deal, so I told him so and expected we'd move on.
Big Kid starts whining and complaining and as I tell him to knock it off, he gets argumentative. I pull him aside and threaten him, in disbelief at his indignation and the fact that he was near tears over this absolutely ridiculous ordeal.
We get up to the librarian and she says, "Scan your card" and Big Kid says, "I'm not going to."
"You're not going to?" She asked.
"Nope. Nuffing in life is important to me anymore."
I scrape my jaw off of the floor and ask, "Did you just say that nothing in life is important to you anymore? Because someone took your seat?"
"Yes. Nuffing matters to me. Nuffing is important."
The librarian looks at me and stifles a laugh as she urges him to go ahead and scan the card. He said that he would but he wasn't going to wear his card around his neck like the other kids do, because it didn't matter, nothing mattered.
I managed not to beat his ass right then and there but HELLO. Nothing in life is important anymore?
If a child said that in my presence I would assume I was dealing with a chronically depressed and mistreated child, or a child who lives with someone who has serious issues and would say such things in front of their kid.
Thanks again, Big Kid.
So to recap, Big Kid has the people at his school convinced that I would pack him a lunch of two broken pretzel sticks and a melted chocolate, that I'm too lazy to dress him properly and that his life is so hard that nothing in life matters to him anymore.
And that's just what I know about.
Sunday, February 22, 2009
His new catch phrase is, "Yeah baby!" in a very Austin Powers-esque fashion. He says it all the time. Today we were discussing whether we should do the beach or an art show and he yelled out,"Da beach. Yeah baby!"
If you ask him if he wants to get some lunch, "Yeah baby!"
If you ask him if he wants to watch a movie, "Yeah baby!"
I have no idea where he heard this, but it is so perfect for him.
His other latest obsession is his "cow rope" (pronounced t-ow rope), the leather riding reins my mom gave him for his spring horse that he uses as a lasso. He takes it to day care and must know where it is at all times or he'll follow me around asking, "Mumum, where mah tow rope? I neeeeeed it, mumum" until I break down and go find it.
We've had to implement strict rules against roping Big Kid or the pets because he had most of the household living in fear. Now he lines up his Radio Flyer spring horse, his rocking horse and an assortment of stuffed horses and cows and practices lassoing them and dragging them around the room triumphantly. He recently saw an amateur rodeo at the fair and it obviously made an impact. He is constantly wearing his cowboy boots, hat and chaps and saying "he cowboy".
Oddly enough, he also still insists that he's a baby and uses this as an excuse for everything. If I tell him his hair looks crazy, "Is baby hair, mumum", if I tell him he's naughty, "I just baby, mumum". Tonight he was trying to avoid bed time by telling Mr. Ashley, "I need be mumum's baby", meaning he wanted to lie in my arms and stare at each other (he makes sure we do this at least daily, it is a little strange but also very sweet). Tonight he kept craning his neck around so he could see the television and Cops was on. I told him Cops wasn't an appropriate show for him and he said, "I like Tops, mumum. Is okay for baby."
I sent him to bed because I highly doubt Cops is okay for a baby, especially this particular baby. I don't really need him imitating cops or bad guys, thanks. Living with a two year old baby cowboy is enough excitement.
Friday, February 20, 2009
Nancy Grace is abducting children so she'll have something to talk about on her show.
It seems that any time a mystery gets solved or a story gets old, there's Nancy with a recent and interesting abduction to investigate, with all new relatives to harass.
I don't know. It seems suspicious to me.
I also secretly suspect that she may be a robot. Her range of facial expressions is just so limited. She does angry, shocked (in an oh-no-you-din't kind of way), and smug. They're all pretty similar and nothing in her face creases. Very strange. Very strange, indeed.
It's something to think about.
Thursday, February 19, 2009
"Dear little kid, Please dont boter me. I do not like it. From Big Kid."
As soon as I finished reading it, little kid tried to lasso Big Kid with a pair of leather riding reins and yelled, "You a cow!" as Big Kid ran back into his room screaming, "Read it again, mom! It didn't work, read it again!"
I CAN.NOT.WAIT until Mr. Ashley gets home.
I have been eating Excedrine for Migraines like they're M&Ms and they aren't working.
It hurts so bad I want to cry but I've already tried that and it doesn't help, plus I don't want to hear myself.
I feel like my right eye is going to pop right out of the socket.
I'm even typing as quietly as possible.
This is a pretty pointless post, I just needed to broadcast my misery.
Tuesday, February 17, 2009
Chinese Mistress Contest Takes Tragic Turn--this should be made into a movie. It is better than fiction.
True Porn Clerk Stories--I stumbled onto this old blog not long ago and read the almost the whole thing. She's a great writer.
Nazis in Color--You can't say much good about them, but they were snazzy dressers. Lots of pomp and circumstance and all that jazz.
Does this girl need plastic surgery--Interesting article involving the sales tactics of plastic surgeons. Telling this girl she needs lipo should be criminal.
Learned Helplessness--I keep seeing these studies mentioned lately, specifically in regards to the potential long term effects of this depressing economy and also about a cat abuse case that was recently publicized that had people wondering why the cat didn't try to escape or fight back.
Octomom's website got hacked--People hate this chick. For real.
Beautiful graffiti--What a neat idea.
Cool idea--Someone found a relative's "line a day" journal from 1937 and is transcribing it via Twitter.
A Totally Bizarre Japanese Reality/Game Show--seriously unbelievable.
I'll be back soon, I swear.
Monday, February 16, 2009
Sunday, February 15, 2009
Friday, February 13, 2009
Then he quizzed me on my "free dimenshable" shapes and yelled at me when I called the sphere a ball (in all fairness, it was a ball). I was feeling pretty cocky because I knew the coolie cup was a cylinder, but I guess I'm not as smart as I thought.
He's only five and he's already smarter than me. And he knows it.
Thursday, February 12, 2009
Wednesday, February 11, 2009
Big Kid: I do not sound like a baby! I'm not a baby!
Ashley: You sound like one when you whine like that.
Big Kid: Dat's it, mom. When I get home from school today, I'm unpluggin' your computer. I'm turnin' it off. You'll have to reboot.
Ashley: I'll reboot your butt, Big Kid. Don't threaten me.
Big Kid: You don't go freatenin' me, mom! I'll unplug it ebery day! You'll have to turn it back on all da time and start what you were doin' all over again.
Ashley: Seriously...hush it. Right Now. And don't touch my computer.
Monday, February 9, 2009
Today Big Kid was fighting with the little kid when he screamed, "Mom, you better do somefing about him or I'm gonna run away!"
"You're going to run away? Where would you go?"
"Far. Like, da middle of nowhere. Somewhere he can't get me. I'm finkin' Texas."
Trying not to laugh, I responded, "You're moving to Texas?"
"Maybe. Dat way he can't ant-agonize me anymore."
"Did you just say antagonize?"
"Yes. It means when you're bein' really annoying, like he is!"
"Good word. I've got friends in Texas, you want me to see if they have any room?"
"How 'bout you dest make him be good? Instead of me movin' all da way to Texas?"
"Moving would probably be easier."
Sunday, February 8, 2009
Not dumb because you smoked some pot, I couldn't care less about that, dumb because you LET SOMEONE PHOTOGRAPH YOU DOING IT.
That was dumb.
Dumb enough that you should lose the Kellogg's endorsement? No. Dumb enough that your local police should be investigating you? Hell no.
How is it that half of baseball is on steroids, but some kid with superhero powers who swims like freaking Aquaman and has feet the size of fins takes a bong hit on some down time and all hell breaks loose?
Should people like Michael Phelps be thrown into jail to protect society? Of course not. If anything, Michael Phelps is a good example of how ridiculous the war on Marijuana is. Smoking pot should be a ticketable offense that carries a heavy fine, and maybe that money could be earmarked for education or something worthwhile.
Do you know why people think Marijuana is a "gateway drug"? Because kids are taught in D.A.R.E. that someone might put a gun to your head to force you to smoke it and become addicted. We're taught that people who smoke it are criminals; bad people who contribute nothing to society. We're taught that smoking it could make you hallucinate and jump from a window, or sell your television to get more.
Then people try it and realize that they've been lied to. That no one is going to hold a gun to your head and force you to smoke some of their weed. That the dangers listed were greatly exaggerated, if not outright lies. Then they think, well maybe "they" were lying about all of the other drugs too.
If we had seen a picture of you doing a keg stand at a party, most of America would have shook their heads and said "Boys being boys", if it was even deemed newsworthy. They'd think "Look at him having some fun after all of his hard work" and moved right along with their lives. No one would have cared.
My advice to you in the future is to avoid cameras at all costs.
My advice to Kelloggs is to get over their damn selves---everyone knows that Frosted Flakes taste better if you're high.
Saturday, February 7, 2009
Our tenant called and told us that he was moving out. His lease was up a few months ago and he didn't want to re-sign but said he didn't really plan on going anywhere. He was a good tenant and the market sucks so we were okay with this. Although I knew this was going to happen one day, I think I was just trying not to think about it and enjoy life while things were going pretty decently.
I checked around and market rent now is about a third of what we pay for it each month and there are a lot of units for rent in the complex. Majorly sucks.
So I sat down and crunched all of the numbers and the news is not good. Basically, our best hope to get out of this mess is for me to have David Beckham's love child and extort a lifetime of money out of him. There are logistical problems with this plan though, and I don't know if Mr. Ashley will go for it.
After my week long anxiety attack, I'm beginning to feel better. I'm hating myself a little for bad choices made in the past but you know, I didn't have a crystal ball. I knew I was taking a risk because any investment is a risk even if it seems safe at the time. There was some stupidity, along with a series of unfortunate events and it just is what it is and now is the time to cry about it (until I puke) and come up with a new plan.
So, does anyone have David's number?
I asked Big Kid if this was something he would be interested in doing.
Big Kid: So, dey want to gib me a show?
Ashley: Well, they want you to be on their show.
Big Kid: What is da show?
Ashley: It's a music show for children, something with a Tuba.
Big Kid: A TUBA? I love Tubas! I can't believe dey are makin' a show about me and a Tuba.
Ashley: It won't be about you and a Tuba. You and a Tuba will both be in the show, but the show is about a man that plays a Tuba.
We rode in silence for about 15 minutes before he piped up again:
Big Kid: I'm finkin' I should put my face in da hole for da Tuba and da guy can blow da Tuba and I'll be like, "Whoa!" and my hair will blow back and stuff.
Ashley: You are just going to show up and do what they ask. You aren't going to be trying to tell them what to do or coming up with your own ideas, okay? That is their job. As the actor you just do exactly what they say and try to act like a normal person would. Don't make weird faces or do that thing you do with your neck in pictures. Just act like the cameras aren't even there and be normal.
Big Kid: Where are we gonna get da Tuba from? Is dere like a music store around here?
Ashley: They will get the Tuba. We just have to show up.
Big Kid: Who else will be in da show? Actors or dest kids or what?
Ashley: I don't know. They will figure all of that out.
I was a little worried that the people shooting the show didn't know what they were in for with my two weirdos. I was going to send over "riders" prior to shooting, but then the funny left the building this week and I dropped the ball. That would have been hysterical though.
We got there early and met the Tuba guy, who is also our local weatherman and Big Kid's new idol. Those two hit it off. They had a million questions for each other and Big Kid even asked if he could try to play his Tuba and he let him! Big Kid was thrilled.
little kid was clinging to my legs, hiding behind me, and giving my co-workers dirty looks if they approached. He was playing with a yellow rubber duck and as I took it from him to put it in my purse, he took another one out of his pocket. We all laughed and I told them how he always has a stash of something in his pockets and as I took the duck away, he took another one out of his back pocket. Three rubber ducks smuggled out of the house without me noticing...
The person in charge assembled the kids and tried to earnestly explain to them what shots they needed and what order scenes would be shot in. little kid used this time to run up behind Big Kid and tickle him, which would make Big Kid scream "Don't you touch me! I'm listening to dis guy, don't touch me!", to which little kid would have to do it again to get a more intense version of the same reaction. I yelled at them both and we decided to just get started.
The children were each given a small instrument (there were 5 of them, Em was there too, they ranged from 2-5 years old) and were instructed to run up to set excitedly and play their instrument along with the Tuba. After the third take, Em's mom pointed out that this is why they use 8-10 year olds in Barney. This was not an easy age group to work with. The "running excitedly" part was near impossible for them to pull off.
The next scene they shot (they do it out of order, Hollywood-style) the kids were supposed to run up and one of them was to take the Marching Stick from the man with the Tuba. There was no clarification for who should be the one to get the Marching Stick so fighting ensued. I think it was three takes before Big Kid was declared the holder of the Marching Stick (only because he was going to freak the fuck out if anyone dared said otherwise, brat) and Em would get it in the next scene.
Then they were supposed to march around in a circle playing their instruments. Half of them didn't even know what a circle was, so that didn't go down quite as planned. Big Kid was extremely annoyed with everyone's inability to retain line formation and marched around rolling his eyes, shaking his head and throwing his hands in the air in disgust.
It was almost impossible to muffle our laughter so that it wouldn't be heard on camera.
Their final scene they were supposed to walk out, turn and face the camera, and play their instruments. little kid doesn't take direction well (as we all know) and decided to dance around the group, shaking his butt and his little rattling gourd in pure joy. The other kids either looked bored, wore bizarre and wavering smiles, or were looking at the Tuba man's shoes. It was a long song, so this went on for awhile. One child just wandered off set so that the last part had to be redone a second time.
The whole thing was hysterical and ended up being a lot of fun. The people in charge said that they got what they needed and gave each child a toy and promised to send us a DVD. Big Kid missed school for it and the teacher was probably wondering what the heck he was talking about when he went to school the next day telling people he was in a tv show.
I cannot wait to get this DVD. I'd kind of like the unedited footage too because it was all so funny. Especially Big Kid's neurotic "I can't work with this" disgust over the marching circle-that-wasn't. It should be interesting.
(I re-wrote this all for you guys so you'd get the unabridged version since I owe you for putting up with my boring-ness this week. If you're bored and want to see the other write-up, it's here)
Thursday, February 5, 2009
The kids were in a pilot for a children's television show this morning and that was as funny as you would think it would be, so I at least owe you the story on that.
But now I'm trying to work, and they are both home, and I'm ready to lock little kid up in the chicken coop, so I better go deal with all of that and I'll try to be back tonight.
Tuesday, February 3, 2009
Monday, February 2, 2009
Look how freaking cute they are!
Way, way cooler than a hamster. I need one!