Don’t do quack, it kills
Upstate New York didn’t participate in summer this year so the transition into Fall was fairly easy. I’m equally excited for this time for two reasons. First, I’m in nowhere near the amount of discomfort as I found myself this time last year as an 8 pound midget flailed around inside my body taunting me with her matrix like moves. Second, Fall means that it gets cooler and that means that….a) snow is coming and I love snow b) Christmas is coming and I love Christmas c) construction is wrapping up and I f’in hate construction. One of those things is not like the other!
Since Cardin debuted just a few days into November last year this was her first official Halloween. I figure for the first couple years of her life I’ll get the sweet revenge of choosing what she wears for Halloween before she starts berating me with expletives about how I’m not cool if I don’t let her have the dora the explorer backpack. GRASSY ASS.
Initially, I wanted to dress her as a whoopee cushion and I was high fived all the way for this, until I got to my husband and my mother who had to poop on my parade. POOP. ON. MY. PARADE. Then we moved on to either Elmo or a Kitty. Mommy looked at the price tags on those costumes and just kept walking. Listen Lady, some of you may give your kids the world on a silver platter. I’ll give them a cold, hard dose of reality. Mommy ain’t made of money, she doesn’t shit quarters, and that bush growing in the basement doesn’t produce money. You’re going to wear this costume for about 20 minutes, there is no way in this galaxy I would spend $49 dollars on it. Oh yea….and Santa isn’t real either. I’M A HORRIBLE PERSON. And people in Africa don’t wear shoes, it all evens out in the end. I finally settled on a duck costume that was not the price of a kidney on the black market.
AND THEN IT HIT.
THE SWINE. I got the flu. Two days before Halloween and I’m in bed fevering my way through life. My hair even ached. It sorta, kinda, maybe, just a little, killed Halloween for my kid. Since she can’t really eat candy and she can’t really walk very well the whole trick or treating thing would be lost on her, but we had planned to take her around to see some family and friends on Halloween in her duck costume. This would also ensure that I got the most use out of the money I spent on this duck outfit. FAIL. This is one of those times I’m grateful that her neurons haven’t fully formed and she won’t remember anything till she’s at least two.
Through all this, I was determined to hand out two things to the neighborhood children on all Hallow’s Eve. Candy and a helping of H1N1. What parent wouldn’t love if their kid came home with an unbeknownst, festering virus just seething to run rampant? HANDS IN THE AIR!! wOOt wOOt. How do you like that? AT LEAST YOU HAVE SHOES!!! In reality, I’m a decent human and my dad was nice enough to come over and hand out candy to the masses. Don’t think I didn’t stand over the candy bowl and breath on all those snickers and milky way though. FOOLS.
The scorpio child reborn
Things have been crazy lately as I decided to pack up an 11 month old kid in diapers and trek halfway across the country to remote destinations to enjoy some beach time with the family. At one point I had 8 lists running of things that needed to be packed and/or accomplished before we left. We managed to make it all the way to the Caribbean and back with all our limbs attached and we didn’t even get robbed. There were some minor incidents with the sun and one run-in with a shotgun but, by all accounts, it turned out well.
It was even a relief to come back and freeze our gonads off again after waiting around in 95 degree weather, holding a kid who can’t yet walk; all the while you are dressed in denim and long sleeves. SUPER FUN, totally suggest it.
Now that we’re back, its full swing into party planning mode for Cardin’s first birthday. Listen lady, it’s not every day you plan a one year olds birthday party. We’re talking full blown Wringling Brothers extravaganza here; the elephants and tight rope walkers are all over this shindig. The offspring is really into Sesame Street so it’s going to look like an explosion of “redrum” with the amount of Elmo paraphernalia that is going to be present.
We’re going big or we’re going home with this one. We decided that since it’s her first birthday there were just too many people to shove into our house comfortably so we rented out a lodge. Plus, it’s better this way. I don’t have to worry about how much toilet paper we’re going through. YA KNOW. ‘Cause that’s not a trivial piece of information!!!
The whole fam damily is coming out for this festival so there will be lots of food and yelling. It’s likely a few tears will be shed, a couple of Italian cus words dished out, and some family drama will erupt, but hey, it’s not a party without all that. Inevitably at the end, my grandma will put her hands in the air and say, well, that’s another thing done; as though there is some almighty checklist.
I’m excited to see Cardin play with her first birthday cake. Hopefully she’ll do better with fire than Mommy. I’m super excited for her to get new toys. Obviously so SHE can have something to play with. NO OTHER REASON WHATSOEVER. But mostly, I’m shocked. I can’t believe she’s going to be one. I can’t believe it’s been a whole year since I layed in that hospital wondering what she would look like and how she would change me. And what’s even more shocking….I did it. The one who suffers from a lack of common sense and is prone to injury. Yep. I managed to keep her safe and cultivate her mind for a whole year. Sometimes I feel like a gangsta!
Don’t worry…there will be beer to tame the senses from the overwhelming amount of red.
the 5 am vomit
Just as a reminder:
Nov- Cardin is born (YAY)
Nov- June- the rockstar child throws a kegger in her crib every night from the hours of 2 am- 4 am. She likely learned this behavior from her father. If you can’t count, that’s SEVEN MONTHS of NO SLEEP. SEVEN. one. two. three. four. five. six. seven. S.E.V.E.N.
June- Mid-September- the rockstar finally hits rock bottom and starts to sleep through the night. Mommy and Daddy begin to function again and stop drinking.
Present Day- Teething begins. Initially I was excited, as I thought we would hit pay-dirt with the tooth fairy until I realized that money had to come from my wallet. WRONG. On top of the disappointment over the tooth fairy, we’re back to all night keggers and NO SLEEP. But today was the topper of it all. Consider this story your form of birth control.
My delicate flower kindly woke us this morning at 3:30 as she screamed like a ban-chi into the monitor. I was able to get her to fall back to sleep for about 30 minutes. Just long enough to get back in my warm cozy bed and start to doze off before the machine gun crying started again. Except this time she refused to go back to sleep. I tried the trustee baby Tylenol to no avail as she just kept slapping me in the face while I tried to rock her back to sleep. I’m not kidding about the slapping either. Full palm. Right to my face.
We attempted to lull her senses by putting her in the swing. FOOLS. She kept sitting forward, looking right at me and screaming. MOMMA. MOMMA. As though I had just placed her in a pit of hungry lions and she was wearing a meat mask. After about an hour of attempting to get her back to sleep I gave up. Her stomach kept growling so I thought perhaps she was hungry and that is why she couldn’t sleep.
And that’s when I pulled a genius move. I gave her yogurt. Excellent choice on the dairy. Winner. About 45 minutes later I was revisited by that awful decision. But the kicker, the real doozy. She puked while laying down as I was changing her crap filled diaper. Yep. It was coming out from both ends and I was prime target. So there I am, sitting her up so that she doesn’t choke on her puke all the while trying to keep the shit contained. Needless to say….it didn’t work. She ended up needing a bath and mommy ended up needing a vicodin.
Man Down!
Yesterday I was eating lunch and in the midst of moving my arm, I managed to spill an entire can of iced tea ALL OVER MY LEG AND THE FLOOR. I rock. To top it off I had to get to a meeting in 30 minutes with a wet patch on my jeans that looked like I had just peed a little. I was all, “crap how am I going to dry my pants so it doesn’t look like I wet myself?” And “double crap, how am I going to dry my pants in my open cubicle without looking like a total fool?” That second part was totally unavoidable. I look like a total fool even without wet pants.
And then bam, it hit me. I have a little fan at work that I use when it’s 9,000 degrees out and the air conditioning ain’t kickin’ it. I managed to rig the fan on top of my desk and hold my leg at an awkward position so that my pants could dry before my meeting. It was hot, I know! Listen Lady, I’m like an engineer. All scientific and shit. It worked, and it only took about 20 minutes to get my jeans looking fresh.
I’m no longer allowed to have iced tea. FAIL.
Got a little Gas?
SERIOUSLY considering making this Cardin’s 1st Halloween Costume. It’s amazing. And with the amount of gas this kid actually expels it’s pretty much spot on. Listen Lady, I only have a couple years to pick out her outfit before she goes all slutty pirate on me.