a topic of discussion
Last night I ventured to the mall with Cardin in attempt to look for a dress for an upcoming wedding. I was successful in my attempt to find a dress and even Cardin approved, though I lost her a few times in the dress racks.
As we were pulling out of the mall parking lot, stopped for a traffic light, Cardin said “Mommy…tell me something.”
I looked at her in the rearview and was all “Excuse me two year old?” Would you like to have a riveting discussion on politics? Religion? Listen Lady, I guess I’m really going to have to step up my game on topics of discussion lately because the ABC’s, numbers, disney pricnesses, and animals really aren’t making it anymore.
Through the looking glass
Somewhere back in May, when I was diligently doing the spring cleaning, I managed to rip the screens out of all the windows for a good clean down. Having owned a house for 5 years now, I should know better. One project inveitably leads to another; no task can ever be a simple, one step solution. When I pryed the screen off the bathroom window, I noticed that the bottom right hand corner of the casement was all molded and rotten. WONDERFUL.
The window’s in the house are not the original, but they also are not brand-spanking new. A couple years ago we replaced the front picture window as the main living room was comparable to a sauna from the fact that there was no air circulation. It was never our intent to replace all the window’s in the house, but the bathroom has been something of a pitfall that we have been sinking money into for some time now.
Listen Lady, the bathroom seems to have a bit of a moisture issue, not unlike a chinese hooker on the streets of lyell ave. We tried to compensate for the extra moisture when we redid the bathroom by purchasing a really good exhaust fan and adding a shower surround instead of tiles with grout. We’ve gone so far as to use special drywall and have the ceiling scraped, re-plastered, and repainted in a semi-gloss to keep the moisture build-up to a minimum…clearly our efforts were futile.
Today we sunk even more money into the mositure pit by installing a brand new slider window. The only advantage to the new window is that the casement of it is all plastic, this sucker will never rot away. It has a lifetime warranty on breakage….go ahead Cardin, I dare you, and we can even transfer part of the warranty to new owners if and when we ever sell the house.
Turtle Dicks
My good friend Bobby sent me this picture via text the other night at about 11:30 pm. I had just gotten into bed and did a double-take when the image flashed on my phone. I don’t think we’ll ever look at pickles the same way again. 
Listen Lady this image is pretty disturbing…can you imagine? Don’t kid yourself ladies with that whole size don’t matter shit. Actually it holds special value to me. You see, Bobby is like my brother from another mother and we have known each other since Elementary school; when we got to star in that fabulous rendition of Charlie and the chocolate factory. I was, of course, an Ooompa Loompa…this may be where my fear of clowns started.
We grew even closer in high school and I would often go to his house where we would eat spaghetti and meatballs and then sprawl on his kitchen floor. After we’d digested the delicious meal we’d save the world using extreme sega genesis skills. TMNT was our favorite and we’d go head to head with the evil Shredder. . Don’t hate, it was one of the coolest arcade games ever made. Bebop and Rocksteady were no match for us.
In fact, the night I married Brett, Bobby actually gave me our worn out copy of the TMNT game. He told me it was now time to start saving the world with Brett. It was a gift I will never forget or give up; one that holds very special meaning to me.
Bobby lives in L.A. now, making great things happen in the movie world. I miss him, but I know that no matter how far we live things like Turtle Dicks will always be reminders of our friendship.
…until college
This past weekend we spent time painting and preparing Cardin’s big girl bedroom. You see Internet, Cardin recently learned the art of climbing, so her crib become more of an obstacle course than a sleeping tool; at which point Brett and I looked at each other and said…..time for a real bed instead of a visit from family services.
I’ll let you in on a secret Internet, this move has been a long time coming and a part of her “babyhood” that I had long been holding out on. We could have moved her many months prior and this had all been in the master plan. Unfortunately, the master plan got swept away back in April when we lost baby #3. Perhaps it was selfish of me, but this only proliferated my need to keep Cardin in her crib longer and extend as much “babiness” out of my growing toddler as possible. Often difficult when she screams, “NO, LET ME DO IT” constantly.
Once the climbing started we had no choice but to ramp up production of the big girl room. We included Cardin in selecting the paint color and had previously let her help pick out the Minnie
Mouse bedspread she wanted. I threw caution to the wind and I even let her help paint the room….with real, permanent paint. The kind that doesn’t just wash off LADY. There were specific rules, like no painting the floor or body parts, and she was not allowed to wear anything but an old t-shirt of mine. The anxiety level was high and there were many “oops”, but we got through the day.
Once the room was painted and the furniture in place she was like a sheep dog, herding Brett and I along to move all her toys and clothes. She quickly made herself right at home and had absolutely no problem laying out a minefield of toys in that room. I wonder if the novelty will wear off? 
The first night was a little rough sleeping wise; it took some time to settle her down. It was strange not to see her sleeping sideways in her crib with her foot sticking out through one of the rails, surrounding by thirty-two buddies. What I do know is that Cardin will likely stay in this bed until she goes to college. COLLEGE. That seems so far off in the distance and yet the past 2.5 years seem to have flown by so quickly. I wonder how many times the room will change between now and then? How many posters will splash the walls? How many times the door will slam? I wonder how many times I’ll say “Listen Lady, clean your room!” 
Procreation Failure
The past couple days have given me great reflection on the rules of procreation, thanks in great part to the Casey Anthony trial. I’ve steered away from watching much of the trial, mostly because it was too disturbing for me to even consider the option of losing my child.
This trial has only strengthened my resolve for the fact that certain people should not be allowed to breed. I was unsurprised by the verdict yesterday as it was returned so quickly; and I did mention to a couple of co-workers, “watch, she’ll get out and want to have another baby now”.
AND BOOM. WHAT HAPPENS….THIS HEADLINE APPEARS TODAY ON ABC…”Casey Anthony Writes About Wanting More Babies”
LISTEN LADY, is there going to be a certain time length you wait before you report the next kid missing???? At least wait a couple days while the dust settles down from your trial before you go shooting your mouth off about needing a sperm donation. First OJ, now Casey. Hide Yo Wives, Hide Yo Kidz….what’s next people???
It is unacceptable to me that certain people have children. I’m required to pass tests to drive a car, graduate from high school, get into college, enter into the armed services, but any holly humdrum can spread eagle and spawn a genetic mutant of themselves without so much as a means to pay for food and nobody thinks twice about it.
Perhaps we should consider a parenting license. Simple questions really, like…should you kill your child? Should you report your child missing? Should you make up a random babysitter and lie to police about where your kid is? I suppose if you can answer these correctly than we can grant you a license.