Used to be a Funhouse Part II
Posted by admin | Filed under Insane in the MOMbrane, Just plain funny, No One But Your Mom, Preschoolers, Uncategorized, parenting, toddlers
Ava has decided that Mama has not lost enough marbles.
And don't doubt for a second that she doesn't take every marble I lose and put it her mouth. My marbles, as I lose them, become choking hazards, therefore causing me to lose more marbles. Are you seeing the problem here?
Ava is at a delightfully horrific age: 18 months. Only 18 short months of life, and already she's learned, all too well, how to get what she wants. The fact that she is a second child, and a second girl to boot, well… That just adds fuel to the fire. She's got to be sassier, louder, and more obnoxious than her sister to ensure she gets noticed.
She is succeeding. I have never, ever witnessed a child throw as many public tantrums, scream as loudly, or shove as brutally. Ava does not fuck around — get out of her way, dudes, or your ass is hers. The infuriating part is how goddamned CUTE she is. Yes, I know I'm her mother and I am biased, but seriously, she's adorable (looking). She smiles a lot, and has these dimples that will suck you in like black holes. She's got these enormous blue eyes with long eyelashes, a cute little button nose, and a head of light brown curls. Trust me, meet Ava and you will not emerge unscathed — she will whip you.
So. The other day was a particularly crazy one: Playdate, three-year-olds fighting over princess dresses, toys and food everywhere, and darling Ava, who just wanted someone to notice that she was there. When she realized that smacking the older kids with their princess wands wasn't working, she took an entirely different approach. She took this snow globe that plays music (with a single push of a button) and dropped it in the toilet. While it was playing. I found her peering into the john, going "UH. OH!"
Uh-oh is right, especially considering Nora had gone in the potty and chosen not to flush the toilet. The snow globe was, miraculously, still playing, and the music was muffled and… downright fucking creepy. So I fished the urine-soaked snow globe from the toilet and threw it in the sink, where it continued to play a now very sad, very off-key, very disturbing version of "We Wish You a Merry Christmas." And it wouldn't stop playing. Pushing the button did nothing. And when, after a particularly macabre version of "Jingle Bells," I tried to take the batteries out of the piece of shit, I found that they were screwed in, and I'd have to whip out the toolbox to get the fucking thing to shut up. Considering I was in the middle of "hosting" (ha!) a playdate, I just decided to let it run itself down.
Seriously, no one will ever want to come over again. This may actually be a good thing, since I have no furniture and generally suck at playing hostess.
Do you know, the snow globe played for SEVERAL MORE HOURS. If my home wasn't a madhouse before, it certainly became one with the sound of screaming children and super-eerie Christmas music in the background. Background? I mean foreground. Shit.
Why isn't anything else I own built like a fucking Home Depot snow globe? I accidentally drop my car keys in a puddle of water and the remote stops working instantly. What the hell?
Ava, back before she was mobile, had an attitude, and lady-with-twenty-cats crazy hair. I never thought I would miss those days…
Tags: Ava, funhouse, madhouse, marbles, playdate, snow globe
This Used To Be a Funhouse
Posted by admin | Filed under Insane in the MOMbrane, Motherhood, Preschoolers, Womanhood, parenting, toddlers
Now it's full of evil clowns.
Actually, now it's full of toys, garbage, and children who are far too clever and devious for their mother's good. No clowns, thank God. That would really be the icing on the cake, if I had to deal with evil clowns on top of everything else. I'd really need some heavy meds — and serious weapons — then.
So clowns aside, this place really does teeter on being an insane asylum on most days. From the moment they wake up, my girls make it their mission to destroy any sense of order or sanity in our home. Nora even tells Ava, "Come on, Ava! We have work to do!" I think she picked that phrase up from Wonder Pets (if you don't know what I'm talking about, consider yourself a lucky, lucky bitch or bastard), but it is so appropriate in context, I have to smile. The "work" my little hellions have to do is destroy, demolish, and then cackle cruelly as Mama frantically tries to undo the mess.
They take things out of drawers, cabinets, any sort of container, and seem to take particular joy in creating disorder where there was once order. It's not like they are taking specific things out to play with, they are just flinging shit over their shoulders as fast as they can possibly manage. God forbid they manage to reach a box of cereal or rice or flour in the pantry — if I don't catch them in the nick of time, it will be everywhere. Toilet paper rolls — holy shit, if I am so stupid as to leave a bathroom door open, Nora will unroll at breakneck speed and Ava will be mummified, only to eat her way out of her binding. Yes, that's right, Ava eats toilet paper. And she revels in it, making sure I see her tear off a piece and deliberately put it in her mouth. As if to say, "Watch this, Mom. I'm eating paper. Whatcha going to do about it? HUH?"
Nora, at three years old, is a bit more controllable, since she understands right from wrong, and that there will be consequences for her actions. (Am I a spanker, you ask? Hell, yes. I haven't had to do it yet, but I wouldn't hesitate if I thought it necessary). Nora has also developed a devious way of getting around punishment: She becomes immediately remorseful, saying, "Mama, I am so sorry! I am so, so SORRY!" And then she flashes those big blue peepers and stretches her arms out to me… Yeah, try and spank that, you black-hearted wench.
Ava, on the other hand, doesn't give two shits and a piss, and will wreak havoc at every opportunity. If her sister is in it with her, all the better. But if not, she can manage fairly well by herself. When I scold her, she has one response: She screams at the top of her lungs. No, not cry, SCREAM. Like an angry, defiant battle cry. And then she flashes her even BIGGER blue peepers at me and a fucking dimple, for God's sake…
I was such a GOOD kid. Where did I go wrong?
I blame TH's rotten genes. Better that than my mothering, right?
And now, a vintage ad, because it made me vomit a bit in my mouth:
Tags: Ava, evil clowns, hellions, insane asylum, Nora, spanking, toilet paper
Pirates On the Brain
Posted by admin | Filed under Insane in the MOMbrane, Just plain funny, Preschoolers, Womanhood
So as many of you know, I have been writing an ongoing serial over at The Noble Pirates. While it is fiction, I do a whole lot of research on the subject in an attempt to make it as historically accurate as possible. As such, I have become obsessed. My pirate obsession has led to me neglecting my baby Mommy Brained. I'm so sorry, MB. You are not the redheaded step-child, I swear. You are my first, and I will not neglect you any longer.
It is probably not necessary to tell you that I dream about pirates, see pirates wandering around the mall, see the word "pirate" on street signs and billboards, and hear it spoken by people ALL THE TIME. Usually, they're saying the word "prior" or "pyre" or something. Anything that begins with "p," if I'm being honest with myself.
Nora has gotten used to accompanying me to the bookstore or library and has begun to ask me, "Mama, are you looking at pirate books again?" Even the three-year-old understands that her mother is fucking nuts for pirates. My knee-high boots are now my "pirate boots," and Nora routinely grabs sticks off the ground, slashes them in the air (or at Ava) and says, "AAAAAARGH! I'm a PIRATE!" I can already see her in therapy years from now, talking about her mother's abnormal fascination with 18th century criminals, and how it impacted her desire to date bad boys. As obsessed as I am, if Nora or Ava showed up with a guy who looked even remotely like a pirate, I'd call the police immediately. And then they'd scream at me, telling me it was all my fault to begin with.
My pirates have even begun to take over my marriage. Poor, poor TH. I know he'd like to accuse me of some sort of infidelity, because I talk about my pirates the same way a tween talks about the Twilight dudes (you know, with stars in my eyes, eyelashes fluttering, heavy breathing, nipple-rubbing). Really quite sad. It's gotten to the point where I can't even compliment TH without some pirate implication hanging over my head: Today, TH was looking particularly scruffy and unshaven, and I said, "TH, you look ruggedly hot today." Immediately he said, "Why? Because I look like a fucking PIRATE?"
Sheesh. Calm down, people. I'm writing a novel about pirates, but I'm not PSYCHO. Well, not completely.
On an entertaining note, TH has begun to sneak onto my laptop to add his own creative thoughts to my manuscript. It's actually REALLY annoying, but also damned entertaining. This morning, while I was showering (cue porn music), TH hurriedly sat at my laptop, probably snickering like a naughty kid, and added a couple lines to one of my chapters, including: "Howel asked Sabrina to strap one on and lay seige to his poop deck."
Granted, I was laughing for far longer than warranted. But seriously. He needs to stop. Ok, not really. But he definitely needs to put his erotic lit in a different color font so I don't ACCIDENTALLY publish it online.
So TNP readers, you are forewarned: If you should suddenly come across some soft (or hard) core porn while reading about the various sailing rigs, know that it's *probably* TH hard at work.
If the lawyer thing doesn't work out, he's always got a future in erotic literature, I guess.
Tags: Ava, erotic lit, Nora, pirates, The Noble Pirates
Sibling Strife
Posted by admin | Filed under Babies, Just plain funny, Motherhood, Preschoolers, Uncategorized, parenting
As Ava has gone from baby to toddler (Holy shite! Ava's a toddler! Time to try for #3! NOT!!!! GOD that is the most UNFUNNY joke EVER!), to Nora she's also gone from "baby sister who just sits there and cries" to "little sister who fucking RUINS MY LIFE." Granted, Nora has yet to use those exact words, but I'm sure it's only a matter of time before she does. Except I hope she never uses the "F" bomb. Who am I kidding? Since I am her mother, I can almost guarantee that she'll be "F" bombing by the time she's five. (There's another really unfunny joke. I need to go back to bed.)
Back when Ava was a tiny thing, I thought God had heard my prayers and given me an "easy" baby. She seemed to spend a good amount of time just sitting and observing, unlike Nora, who'd spent most of her baby-dom screaming her little head off. And then she became mobile. Around the time she started crawling, she developed a major attitude. Whatever Nora was doing, whether it be playing with dolls, watching TV, or sitting on the potty, Ava wanted in on it. As she realized that 1) Nora was bigger, faster, and stronger than she was, and 2) crying wouldn't always get her what she wanted, she started to fight back.
I distinctly remember when my brother started doing this. He wanted my attention, and resorted to sitting on me to get it. I'd be lying on the floor watching TV, and he'd toddle over and flop his diapered butt directly on my face. With any luck, it was a shitty diaper. Ava is no different, and she's developed this aggressive streak to getting Nora's goat.
Example: Nora will be playing "tea party" or something with her dolls and stuffed animals. She will carefully line her "friends" up, placing a tea cup in front of each. Ava will watch from a corner, plotting. You can see the wheels turning in that curly head as she watches Nora meticulously set everything up. Then, just as Nora begins the party, Ava starts running. She dive bombs in the middle of the tea party, flailing her arms and legs, making sure that everything is destroyed thoroughly. And Nora wails, “NOOOOOOO AVA!!!!” There is only one way to describe the expression on Ava’s face as she rolls onto her back, spread eagle amidst the destruction: Smug.
Having been in Nora’s shoes, I really should sympathize more than I do. I mean, I do sympathize, it’s just that I find it hilarious, too. I mean, I think it’s adorable that Ava would do anything for Nora’s attention. Because that’s what it boils down to – wanting your sibling’s attention.
Ava is proving to be a force to reckon with, just like her sister. They’re not only smart, but conniving, sassy, and full of feminine wiles.
TH and I are so doomed.
Tags: attention, Ava, Nora, sibling, siblings, sisters, tea party
Random Shiznit
Posted by admin | Filed under Babies, FYI, Insane in the MOMbrane, Just plain funny, Motherhood, Preschoolers, Uncategorized
- Nora only wants to wear one shirt, her so-called "Happy Shell" shirt. I've managed to wash it once before she noticed it was missing, and that was only because I was certain there were feces stains on it. Not wearing said "Happy Shell" shirt causes her to have monumental tantrums, replete with kicking, moaning, and head-banging.
- It's that time of the month, and my girls were fighting over a box of super absorbent tampons this morning. I had to pull one out of Ava's mouth. Tantrum ensued.
- I've become highly adept at carrying both girls at the same time. I just have to make sure to switch their places every once in while, so I don't get uneven guns.
- Ava uses Nora's potty seat to play peek-a-boo. Were the hole a bit bigger, I have no doubt she would wear it around her neck.
- Nora is currently watching Yo Gabba Gabba while sitting languidly in her Elmo chair, her legs crossed, wrists limp, looking like she should have a cigarette hanging from her lips. And like she should remove the cigarette from her lips every once in while to rasp in a French accent, "You people make my ass twitch."
- Is it just me, or does Muno from Yo Gabba Gabba look like an enormous, warty penis?
I'll let you guess which one is Muno. Photo by [177] via Flickr.
Tags: Ava, Feces, meltdowns, Nora, penis, random, random shit, tampons, tantrums, Yo Gabba Gabba
Pregnancy (Sucks Hairy Wet Ass Through a Straw): Part TWO
Posted by admin | Filed under Pregnancy
I thought my second pregnancy would be much like my first. I'd probably get gestational diabetes again, but this time I would be calm and composed (and request a different doctor. Dr. Fatty could go fuck herself if she thought I was going to give her any more of my money so that she could emotionally abuse me). I was going to be prepared, and everything would go smoothly. Everyone told me it was easier the second time around, so there was nothing to worry about, right?
Right?
Right?
….
Yeah, about that. I got pregnant with Ava when Nora was 13 months old – she was in that adorable phase between Baby Land and Toddlerdom, and she hadn't entered the Terrible Twos yet. And I thought, “Oh, I'm ready for another baby. I wouldn't mind getting pregnant in the next six months.” When I got pregnant just a couple weeks later, I was surprised, but not worried. Yet.
That's when the nausea began. What started off as puking up the occasional breakfast quickly turned into puking up every meal and each sip of water in between. HOLY. SHIT. If sleep deprivation is the seventh circle of hell, this landed me in the eighth. (Or is it sixth?) The smell of food sent me running to the bathroom lickity-split. Feeding Nora was torturous. My energy levels plummeted, and I started to feel dizzy all the time.
I wanted to die. Instantly. It was ridiculous. And the most frustrating thing about it was the number of people (mainly male OBs) who said, “It's all in your head.” All. In. My. Head. At the time, I was too sick to argue, but now? I'll show you what's in my head, mother fuckers. You know what's in YOUR head? My fist, that's what!
When I blacked out in the bathroom after a particularly bad morning, I knew I had to get my ass to the doctor pronto. I got my mom to come in to town to watch Nora (who, incidentally, screamed in terror every time I would puke). The doctor diagnosed me with hyperemesis gravidarum and sent my dehydrated ass to the hospital. I was there for three dismal days, hooked up to an IV and listening to TH crack Chuck Norris jokes.
TH: “Chuck Norris is a man of few words. Chuck Norris is not a man of few roundhouse kicks to the face.”
ME: “Uuuugh…”
TH: “Chuck Norris doesn't get wet. The water gets Chuck Norris.” * juvenile giggle *
ME: “Babe, seriously, can you go home now?”
TH: “Chuck Norris sleeps with a night light. Not because Chuck Norris is afraid of the dark, but because the dark is afraid of Chuck Norris.” * snort *
ME: “Oh, Gawd. I'm gonna puke.”
TH: “Again? Oh, this one's good: There is no chin behind Chuck Norris' beard. There is only another fist.”
Chuck Norris will forever remind me of those miserable days in the hospital. (Thanks, TH). My weight dropped to 98 pounds and my OB refused to release me until I was able to eat and keep it down. I somehow managed to con the nurses into saying I had eaten, and was finally released – with my very own Zofran pump. Jesus, would I not have a needle-free pregnancy? And let me tell you, nothing is sexier than a Zofran pump bulging out from behind your shirt as you bolt to the bathroom to upchuck.
I didn't start to feel somewhat normal until my third trimester, and at that point I was, well, in the third trimester. No pregnancy honeymoon for me. Dammit. Of course, I am truly grateful that Ava was born healthy and all that jazz, but seriously? Seriously? I know a lot of women had it a lot worse than I did, but this is my blog and I'm allowed to be a whiny bitch.
And about the whole “abstaining from drugs during pregnancy” thing… Let's see, I had Zofran pumped directly into my body non-stop during the first half, and then was on a delightful combo of Zoloft and caffeine during the second half…Oh, and the occasional glass of wine towards the end there. Right…
In summation, if you are contemplating getting pregnant, consider yourself warned. All those movies where the women get cute little bellies and remain unchanged otherwise? A big. Fat. Lie. And if you happen to be one of the few women who looooooved pregnancy and looked like fucking Heidi Klum the whole time, keep your mouth SHUT. And remember that I love you and hate you all at the same time.
Tags: Ava, Chuck Norris, hyperemesis gravidarum, Pregnancy, puking, Zofran, Zoloft
I Am a One Person Freak Show
Posted by admin | Filed under Babies, Insane in the MOMbrane, Just plain funny, Uncategorized, Womanhood, breastfeeding
Ava isn't the only one over the booby-feeding. If there are any dudes out there reading this, I have to warn you right now: This is WAY TMI. Continue reading at your own risk.
I admit that my left booby has always been slightly bigger than my right booby. So after I had Nora, it was no big surprise that my left booby produced more milk than my right. It wasn't a huge issue at the time. Ava, however, decided when she was just a tiny little peanut that she preferred my left booby over my right – probably because it produces more milk and therefore gets in her BELLEH faster. (Aren't all babies little Fat Bastards?) This was, to say the least, mildly problematic. I found myself actually trying to FORCE her to nurse from the right side. As she got older and developed something of an attitude, I would offer her the right side and she would turn her head away, stick out her tongue and BRRRRAAAAAAATTTTT! As if I were trying to feed her feces. (BINGO!)
So my body adjusted and, lo and behold, I started producing WAAAAAAAAY more milk on the left side than the right. As it stands, my boobs are two entirely different cup sizes, and I find myself having to stuff my right cup so that I don't look like a freak.
I am over it. Really, breast is best and all that shit, but I'm tired of my freakish boobs. Sure, when I stop they'll deflate like popped balloons (complete with sound effects and flapping), but at least they'll BOTH deflate. As it is, I have one Scarlett Johansson boob and one Keira Knightley boob, and the benefits of neither. Seriously.
My rack. I even drew a little arrow for you, pointing out the discrepancy. God, I rock Photoshop.
Tags: Ava, boobs, bra, breastfeeding, Fat Bastard, Nora
Baby Haters
Posted by admin | Filed under Babies, Motherhood, Preschoolers, Uncategorized, parenting
So this is a topic that has been bothering me for a while, and I have to find out if I'm the only mother bothered by it:
What kind of a miserable, ass-twitching douchenozzle doesn't smile AT A BABY?
Now look, I know that it's perfectly ok for people NOT to be enamored by babies. I have absolutely no problem with that. As a matter of fact, I know plenty of people who I wish would not think babies are even remotely adorable, if only to keep them from ever procreating. Don't like kids? Awesome. Don't have 'em. Now we're both happy.
But this is not what I'm spewing angry spittle over. I'm referring to people who happen upon a smiling baby in public and deliberately don't smile back. For instance, the other day I was at the grocery store with the girls, and Ava, who is a notorious public smiler, started flashing her gums and dimples at a woman in the canned goods aisle. This woman, who looked to be in her late twenties, looked directly at Ava and then looked away, flicking her hair disdainfully. As though Ava were not an innocent, smiling baby but some bitch who stole her boyfriend, scratched her face and set her hair on fire. Pardon my language, but WHAT THE FUCK? This is not someone who merely doesn't like babies, this is someone who has a personal vendetta against them.
Another time, I took Nora to the park and she decided to smile at this older dude in jogging shorts. Mind you, she was not gaping at him or doing anything that would make a generally unstable adult uncomfortable. She just smiled and met his gaze. You would have thought someone had flashed the guy, the way he reacted. He looked away and then decided that wasn't enough, he had to make a show of standing up and walking away. As if to say, "And take THAT, you smiling toddler, you! I'll teach you to smile at me!" It broke my heart, the way Nora's face fell. I mean, she has plenty of time to figure out that PEOPLE SUCK.
I don't expect people to always respond well to babies, particularly when one is crying or violating someone's sense of space or privacy. But who are these mentally fucked up twatburgers who don't respond to a smiling baby with a flicker of warmth? Wow, did their parents not love them enough or WHAT?
It's people like that who remind me why I'm pro-choice.
Don't think I'm cute, huh? Here's what I think of that…Photo by ctacik via iStock.
Tags: Ava, baby haters, douchenozzles, Nora, twatburgers
Dearest Ava
Posted by admin | Filed under Babies, Insane in the MOMbrane, sleep
I love you dearly, my littlest girl. Really, you are a living doll, with your generous smiles and oh-so-cute dimples. HOWEVER. If you continue to wake up at midnight EVERY NIGHT and scream for two hours simply because you WANT TO PLAY, realize that I WILL NOT HESITATE to leave you on a complete stranger's doorstep with a big-ass bow on your head and a card that reads "Accept this deceptively cute gift at your own risk."
Your loving (but so beyond fucking exhausted) Mama
Tags: Ava, exhaustion, sleep
God Help Me, She’s Crawling
Posted by admin | Filed under Babies, Insane in the MOMbrane, Motherhood, Uncategorized, parenting
You should have seen the "EUREKA! I've got it!" look on her face. I started to cry tears of joy despair. Damn me to hell. It was nice parking her somewhere and knowing the worst she could do is flop on her face. What the fuck am I supposed to do now? Nora's toys are all "choking hazards," and they're scattered pretty much all over the house. Poor little bugger's been crawling for one day, and already she's plowed headfirst into the coffee table sixteen times. I suppose I could become more attentive…
HA! God, I crack myself up. Seriously, though, what to do? I could fence her in, but she's dying to follow Nora around (which is pretty much all she tries to do). I've got it! I could fence them BOTH in! I'll leave a little food and water in their cage – er, "play area" – and then ignore them all day! Fantastic idea.
Calm down, people. I'm kidding. Sheesh. Crack a little joke and everyone's calling CPS on your ass.
Back before she could crawl. I'm gonna miss those days.
