wii went off deep end
mario and fake pool cues
causing missed bed times
Bought a wii today. The wee one and his daddy are hammering away at Paper Mario well over an hour past the wee one’s bedtime.
This would not be such a big deal, but I’m tired, dammit, and I want a turn before I collapse into a spluttering heap.
lost in translation
must pay better attention
corrupting my kids
I was sitting on the sofa, using my Tide pen to go to town on a mysterious brown splotch that had just appeared on my white shirt, when I heard, "It’s a penguin honky song!" in a high pitched voice.
"Huh?" I thought, as I continued to scribble and scrub away at the spot, not looking up.
"A honk, honk honky song!"
Finally, I looked up. "What are you watching?" I asked the wee one, pretending that it wasn’t actually my job to know these things.
"It’s Diego," he said happily. Then, singing along, "It’s a honk, honk honky song!"
"Honk-ing," I said. "I think it’s a honk-ing song."
But it sure sounded like a penguin honky song.
That Diego. He’s a troublemaker.
she loves: shoes and causing pain
my cute dictator
We’re at the point now with the wee-er one where she doesn’t really know her own strength. She’ll attempt to pet the puppy and I can see his eyes bug out of his head in slow motion as she grabs tufts of fur, folds of skin, and internal organs while she gives him "sweet pats."
And now, when she nurses she wants to pull my hair, so I reach around and tuck
my hair behind my neck. This does not fool her. But instead of hunting around for my hair, she grabs whatever is available, namely the skin under my
chin. Up until a few days ago, I was proud of my slender, not-quite-old-lady neck. But now, her talon-like baby fingernails have created a waddle out of sheer force. A red-streaked, scratched and mottled waddle. One of these days I’m afraid she’s just going to rip out my throat and that will be unpleasant for everyone.
She’s also mastered the evil laugh-cry of a mustachioed villain. It’s a kind of "waaaaah ha ha ha wahhh" that, when coupled with a staggering drunk walk is a sure sign it’s bed time. Or nap time. Or lunch time. Or time to call the doctor because my child is an evil dictator as portrayed by 1930s cartoons.
I can hardly stand how adorable she is as she hones her destructive machinations, though, so all is forgiven. Plus, I’ve realized that she’s at a point in her cognitive abilities where she mimics a lot of what she sees – she plays with her hair as I lacquer my head with gel, she hands me a diaper when I sit on the toilet, she looks at a book upside down and babbles sing-song nonsense in the exact same intonations I have when I read to her.
So I’m thinking maybe I’m really the mustachioed villain. Perhaps I try to rip out people’s throats and I don’t realize it. Maybe I laugh-cry and stagger around. It’s very possible.
Sometimes PMS hits hard and fast.
I never try to fondle the dog’s internal organs, though. I do have some boundaries.
I don’t want your crap
I will never want your crap
take your crap and leave
Just so you know, if you answer the door with an askew nursing boob threatening to run
amuck, a diaperless baby on your hip, and a kid stepping on the dog (by
accident) resulting in a YIPE YIPE YIPE heard round the world – well,
the door-to-door salesman will flee without even going into his pitch.
hahahahaha. I almost felt sorry for him. Almost.
I really need to get a sign for the door "Solicitors will be accosted by their future."
Right now the wee-er one has the dog’s leash wrapped around her baby doll’s neck and she’s dragging the baby doll throughout the house. My living room is much like some kind of Toys R Us version of a BDSM bordello or maybe Abu Graib.
Every now and then the wee-er one will stop her rounds, pick up the baby doll, scream at her in a very frustrated way, throw her repeatedly on the floor and then continue dragging her around.
I knew we should never have let her watch those torture porn Saw movies. (Just kidding. It was Agent Cody Banks. Which is worse? You tell me.)
40,000 degrees outside + powder fresh scented deoderant = me, smelling like a middle school
drinking some "Hint" brand
cucumber flavored water
tastes of old lipstick
I never matched the flavors of old Mary Kay lipstick with cucumber, but now that I’ve had "ice cold water with a hint of cucumber" I can rightfully say the flavors are indistinguishable.