TILTW: 3/24-3/30

* I suck at life when I'm not feeling well and haven't taken but one photo this week as a result. The one shown is from Saturday night. Ugh. I also haven't blogged much.

* My husband is trying to drive me crazy.

* Donut holes are the answer. Lovie adores getting donut holes in the morning at school when one of her little friends brings some in to share. And the other morning I stopped and got some for Lovie to bring in to share (5 holes for $1, 10 holes for $1.99- why not? she only eats 1 hole and she can share the rest. i think this is brilliant and need to thank the mom of her friend who's been doing this). We had no issues at drop off that morning. No reaching for me whilst whining and crunching up her face into a scowl. Heck, I don't even think I got a hug and kiss that morning because she was so proud to walk into the room with a little brown paper bag full of sugar goodness to share.

* We're in deep in to the Why stage. She doesn't specifically say the word "why?" after I tell her something, though. No, instead she repeats the same question over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over again until I supply her with an answer that's somehow more acceptable to her.

Example: (During our car rides is when most of this takes place. The girl does not stop talking from the moment we touch the car door handle till the moment we get out of the car.) "Why you stop, Mama?" she'll ask me from the back seat when the car comes to a stop.

She's still rear-facing so she can't see for herself why we're stopped so I tell her why- whether it be that we're at a red light, a stop sign, or if we're stuck in traffic. This particular instance (this week), I had to stop because of the other cars.

She didn't like the answer, apparently, so kept asking over and over over and over and over and over and over and over again "Why you stop, Mama?"

Finally I said, "Because if I don't stop the other cars might hit us."

She replies, "Oh. Cars hit us, mama?"

"No baby girl, but they can."

"Oh."

This morning whilst driving to school she comments (while the car is in motion), "The cars hit us."

I just envision her going to school and telling her teachers that the cars hit us. :)

Or my other favorite lately is that I'm trying to teach her that she can't go and pet and kiss each and every dog she sees and of course that's followed by a million "I go kiss the doggie, Mama?" because telling her No isn't good enough. So I've resorted to telling her that she can only go to a dog when she's with Mama or Daddy because otherwise the dog may bite her. Stupid, stupid me. She's been saying, "The doggie bite me!" and looking all pathetic and holding out her hand ever since.

People are gonna start wondering what kind of care we're providing her!

* Sunday is April. Already. Anyone got any good April Fool's ideas? :)

toddler rules

I think my husband is trying to kill me.

Ughs, I'm soo bloody tired. It's not even funny.

Sunday I was in bed all day because I was feverish and puked my guts out midday. Monday I stayed home from work and stayed in bed all day (till I picked up Lovie from school) because I was exhausted. Tuesday and Wednesday I had to work so no resting during the day and I feel like I'm just walking around in a haze today as a result. Because while I very well am going to bed early enough, I can't fucking get more than a couple hours of solid sleep a night.

Because my husband is trying to kill me.

Really, I'm starting to really wonder if this is what is happening.

He comes to bed after me, always has. Way after me. Like I go to bed by 9 (generally) and he doesn't come to bed for hours later. Like hours.

And when he does he hits the pillow and starts snoring pretty immediately.

Which I can generally deal with.

Unless he gets on his stomach and starts attacking his face.

RUB RUB RUB RUB RUB RUB RUB RUB

Deep groan in that gets held for so long I wonder at times if he stopped breathing.

Whooshing of blowing air out.

But it's never consistent or I may be able to somehow ignore it and drift back off to sleep... except that the RUB RUB RUB part always wakes me up because he shakes the whole fucking bed while he's doing it, while he attacks his face (nose).

I nudge him; I kick him; I ask, "Did you take a Claritin today?" until he answers me. Sometimes I will just bark, "Get off your stomach!"

It's fucking maddening. MADDENING.

So maybe he's not trying to kill me after all. Maybe he's just trying to drive me fucking insane.

Wordless Wednesday: the helmet

Puking on Sunday + exhaustion on Monday + exhaustion and work on Tuesday + exhaustion and throat on fire Wednesday = no place for writing. Happy Wordless Wednesday it is, then.

Favorite post

Recovering from some sort of stomach thing that dominated my life yesterday, I've been laying in bed all day today (sooo tired despite being in bed all day yesterday- argh!) linked to the outside world via my phone, and the Twitter is where I learned of today's interesting link-up:

For their anniversary, they've asked us to link up with them our favorite posts. Psshaw. This one wasn't so hard for me to think about. I write a lot and it's all from my heart and pretty much unfiltered, but the post that came straight to mind as my favorite post is I'm Fat written in August of 2011. There's even a picture of how fat I am. Yay. But seriously, I wrote that post for many reasons- mainly as a way to scream at the top of my lungs that it's possible to be of an "abnormal" size and still be happy. And it's possible to be fat and still have a toddler and teach that toddler to love who she is and not what size she is or what color her skin is or whether or not her clothes come from Nordstrom's.

There are so many pressures on us to be perfect beings despite all of us knowing damn well perfection isn't possible. Just live life, man. Live life to the fullest. For today. Because tomorrow is just not guaranteed, sadly. 

So again, here's my favorite post: I'm Fat.

TILTW: 3/17-3/23

* Lovie now knows what the word Surprise means and was pleasantly surprised the other day when she got her bike. The pink one. She's taken to it right away and glows anytime she gets on it. I can't wait to see what she does when she can get outside and ride it (still waiting for the helmet).

* Lovie is proving to grow sweeter and sweeter every day. And it still amazes me and takes my breath away when she does or says something sweet. Like the other day when she told me she loved me during our morning commute to school. And that she wanted to give me hugs. Or how she gets so excited to share donut holes with a couple of her friends at school in the morning. Or that she gets upset when another baby or child is upset and just wants everyone to be happy and have fun. What a heart she has at 2 years old. My goodness can some adults really learn a thing or two from her.

* I still cannot say enough good things about the Yeah Write community and all the tremendous writing and feedback that goes around during the weekly link-up. But more than that, for me personally, I adore the way it's sparked my writing juices again. I've been wanting to write more (and have for the most part), but the fact that I'm now actually thinking about writing before I sit down and write? That's awesomesauce to me.

What about you? Any awesomesauce enter your life this week? ;)

a Once Upon a Time story

Once upon a time, there was this little girl with this mop of curls who loved the color pink and bikes. Oh how she wanted a bike. A pink bike.

She pouted and did everything in her 2 year old power to look as pathetic as she could anytime she saw bikes and would spend hours (maybe not really hours) telling her Mama and Daddy that she wanted a bike. A pink one.

Her Mama and Daddy wanted to get her a bike but her Daddy, being the research-everything-to-make-the-best-buy-and-decision type of guy, needed to research for the perfect bike and helmet to buy. Once the decision was made, an order was placed and the waiting game began.

Then one day the bike showed up and Daddy was home to put it together while Mama told the little girl, upon picking her up from school, that she had a surprise for her when they got home.

And so they entered the home and there was Daddy with a bike. A pink one. Just for the little girl.

The little girl, with a smile washed over her face, approached the bike, climbed on, and started riding (inside the house despite the 85 degree temperature outside because the helmet still was to come).

"Look at me!" she said over and over again. "I ride a bike!"

Until bedtime she "rode" her bike here and there between eating dinner and watching Olivia. And this morning, when the little girl was leaving for school with her Mama, another smile washed across her face when she spotted the pink bike leaning against the wall.

"I ride my bike," she told her Mama as they walked out of the house with smiles on their faces.

And the little girl and her new pink bike lived happily ever after.

The end.

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pssst, if you'd be so kind, how 'bout voting for me- #37- in this week's awesome yeah write competition. you can vote for four others, too. go on and check them out- there's some awesome reads!

she takes my breath away

i know she kinda looks mad here but the sun was in her eyes and she was concentrating walking on this ledge and catching up with a little boy she befriended... taken 3/20/12 at the park

About an hour ago, while driving Lovie to school before driving myself to work, I got stuck behind some jackhole going 10 under the speed limit. So I honked my horn. All while the Wiggles played in the background.

Lovie didn't say anything. We live in the city and I guess she's just used to honking horns by now.

A minute later, when said jackhole wouldn't speed up or move out of the way (a friggin semi passed us!), I mumbled something negative under my breath. I don't even know what I mumbled, to be honest, and while it probably did not include a cuss word, the tone in which the mumble exited my mouth would let even a foreigner know I wasn't happy.

"What's wrong, Mama?" Lovie asks from the back seat.

Is she not the sweetest thing ever? My lord I am so blessed.

"Oh nothing, sweet girl," I replied. "Just that some people really shouldn't be allowed to drive."

"It's OK," she said. Then, after a couple seconds she said, "You know I love you, Mama."

I nearly cried.

Honest to god every time I hear her say she loves me, I nearly cry- even though she generally only says it after I say it. Still, my heart nearly explodes. Every single time. But to hear her tell me this just because she wants me to be happy? It takes my breath away.

"Oh sweet baby girl, I love you, too. So, so much!"

"I wanna give you hug," she continued.

What is going on here?!? Wow.

"Oh honey, me too," I answered. "We're almost at school and as soon as we get there, I'm gonna give you lots and lots of hugs and kisses."

And I did.

And then she didn't want me to leave and the teacher had to come carry her away as she kicked and screamed and reached for me.

But she loves me and I love her and she's the sweetest thing in the whole world and by golly, life is damn good.

not a Robot so a Bitch?

Something ridiculous happened the other day: I purposely made my sweet, 2 year-old girl cry.

What kind of mother does that?

Don’t answer; I know the answer already! And that’s not at all who I am...the type of mother I am.

When I PMS, it’s something fierce. I get extremely irritable and uncomfortable. Lately the cramps wrap around my body to my back, too. This is when I want nothing more than to rock myself in a dark corner of a room with all the shit food I could jam down my pie hole.  Honestly, the PMS gets so bad that I tend to shy away from people to avoid evil looks or comments that I may emit. But my kid? My sweet little 2 year old girl? I can’t really stay away from her.

So Sunday- after playing at the park, eating lunch, and napping- Lovie was playing with some play-dough in her high chair (the only place I’ll allow her to play with it- strapped in and play-dough in site). And I joined her. Make a snowman, Mama? Make a house? Make a dog? Make Zoe? (the cat)

At one point I was making a dog and she went to grab for the play-dough to Make a big circle and I barked, “NO!”

I didn’t hesitate. I didn’t say it quietly. I barked at her. 

Like a fucking mad dog. 

A bitch.

She quickly took back her hand and looked down at her play-dough and I thought I was going to vomit from disgust.

WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH ME THAT I WOULD BARK AT MY GIRL OVER FUCKING PLAY-DOUGH?!?

“Honey,” I said, still squishing the dough. “I’m sorry; I didn’t mean to yell like that.”

She wouldn’t look at me.

I touched her silky soft chin and told her again, very gently, how sorry I was.

When our eyes met… well… I’m honestly not sure how I held the vomit inside. But I did. And instead, I let the tears out as hers rolled down her sweet round cheeks.

“Please don’t cry, baby girl,” I said, “Mama didn’t mean that; I’m really so very sorry.”

She looked so unbelievably sad...and hurt.

And it was because of me- her mama.

Shortly after, she cheered up- we both did. Daddy gave her a bath and got her dressed for bed. We all watched Bubble Guppies- Lovie on her little chair, me sprawled on the couch with my phone playing Words with Friends, the husband trying to download more episodes.

After a minute she looked back at me and got up and climbed onto the couch to sit with me. Like she does every single night.

I sat more upright so I could get my arm around her as she folded into me. Every so often she’d gently lay her head on my breast or tummy. I scooped her into me more closely so that she melted into me. 

My Lovie and me.

That’s the mama I am- the one she leans on whenever she needs, the one she snuggles with every night, the one who reads her favorite stories over and over and over again, the one who sings silly songs with her...

Not that mean bitch who wouldn’t let her play with the play-dough.

It’s one thing for my child to be upset at me because we have to leave the park, but for something like barking at her? Hell No. It’s unacceptable. And it will not happen again. It can't. We both are better than that.

I mean, I totally get this kind of stuff happens with parenting. We're not friggin robots, we're human beings and sometimes even the most patient (of which I absolutely am not) lose it sometimes. And I know... I know she won't remember this one incident. But the thing is, I have a feeling if I just let it go and not really acknowledge it, I'll fall back on these same excuses again and again and my behavior will snowball. And she will start remembering and probably start behaving in the same fashion. Then what?

It's just something I really don't want to find out. And besides all that, she deserves more from me.

My

it's crazysauce to me that this photo is from yesterday, March 18, 2012... that she's not wearing socks or shoes or a JACKET... that i have a farmer's tan... that that hat is an adult sized hat b/c kids sized hats don't fit atop her mop... that i can't find an adult sized hat for my own head cuz of my mop... that it's not even Spring (tomorrow!!) and we were outside sweating while the a/c was cooling off the cats, Zoe & Little Cat.

on being aToddler: the Listicle

Toddlers and little kids have always brought a smile to my face. Their innocence and pure joy over the simplest things make it hard not to smile. Since having one of my own, however, I've come to understand that being a toddler can be tough work, too!

10 Reasons Why Being a Toddler is Rough

10. People are constantly looking at you, commenting on how cute you are, asking questions about you (What’s your name? How old are you?).

09. People are constantly touching your hair, squeezing your cheeks, wanting to give you hugs and kisses.

08. When you go to a restaurant, the wait staff gives you crayons or maybe even a balloon.

07. People love listening to you just to hear your sweet voice.

06. People are always smiling and laughing with you when you're in good spirits, and pouty when you're not.

05. Your parents carry you around when you ask, “Carry you?” with a smile.

04. People change your diaper and wipe your butt all while singing songs or tickling you.

03. People make you food, serve it to you, and cut it all up, and when you say, “Halp you peas,” and hold your fork to your Mama, she will even feed you.

02. The only thing to watch on TV is Team Umizoomi and Bubble Guppies.

01. And the number one reason why being a toddler sucks… you’re still waiting on that bike that you want. The pink one.

TILTW: 3/11-3/16

* I like being home alone. I needed to stay home last Saturday (gas company was supposed to come) while the hubs took Lovie to gymnastics (actually they ended up at the park for an hour) and while I ended up doing a lot of cleaning and would've rather have slept, watched TV, or anything else, it was kind of nice being home alone. I love my girl more than anything but ... yeah, it was nice being home alone. Just for that short time (1.5 hours), at least. I think I'm going to see if he wants to do the same tomorrow. I know he misses her dearly during the week (he barely makes her bedtime some nights, while completely missing it other nights) so this will be good for both of them and maybe I can sneak in a pedicure or something (which I haven't done in about a year)!

* Once again, I cannot say enough good things about the Yeah Write community. Wow. The comments I got on my Pink Pink PINK piece were awesome. I loved hearing that I'm not the only one who's not a fan of the abundance of pink shit that our eyes are greeted with when we have little girls. It also inspired my new blog header which I, for one, am really loving. But, more than that, the writers and blogs that are out there... WOW!! Even if you're not much of a writer, it's worth checking out some of the other blogs out there to read some really great stuff!

* Lovie really, really, REALLY wants a bike. A pink one.

* Some people have far too much time on their hands as exhibited by the above screen shot of my spam folder just before deleting the influx of "comments" left this week, and before I quit allowing Anonymous comments. That's just what I could fit on one screen shot. Ridiculous.

* I think I've found the site that will replace Picnik for me: Fotoflexer.

Baby, Baby, Baby OH!

This morning went down like most others: after I got out of the shower, I went into Lovie’s room, turned off the sound machine, opened her closet door and turned on the light and continued getting ready before returning a couple minutes later to an open-eyed, very bed-headed little girl.

I got her dressed, she brushed her teeth while I tried fixing her mop. I deposited her onto our bed so she could cuddle with sleeping Daddy while drinking some milk and watching a few minutes of Sesame Street while I got dressed and gathered our stuff for the day.

Sesame Street ended and it was time to get her jacket on, say goodbye and give hugs and kisses to Daddy, and go.

“Baby!” she exclaimed as the latest (adorable) Huggies commercial came on- the one with all the dads sitting in recliners holding onto their babies as they slept to show how Huggies don’t leak.

I finally got the TV turned off, her jacket on, we said our goodbyes and got down to the car.

“Honey?” I said, buckling her into her car seat.  “Do you know where babies come from?”

A little smirk quickly washed over her face.

“IdunnobutIjustsawsome* on da tee-bee,” she answered.

“Oh, from the TV,”  I repeated.

She smiled some more and said, “Anddaygoto* da park on da swings!”

“And they’re at the park on the swings,” I repeated, nodding my head in agreement, smiling as I thought about how insanely smart she is.

“Yes!” she said, still smiling while cradling her sippy cup in one arm while holding a pinecone she calls an Acorn in her other hand. She looked away from me, still smiling, and I could see her thinking about her visit to the park the other day when she collected the pinecone with Daddy, when she said Hi to all the babies she asked to kiss.

This little chica is such a people person. She loved the bigger kids when she was a baby and now (2) she loves the bigger kids and the babies, too. She’s always commenting on “awwww how coot” the babies are, always going right up to them at the park, always wanting to swing next to them as she waves and says Hi to them. She’s got a couple baby dolls at home that she’ll carry around with her, tuck into a bed, wrap in a blanket, push in her little stroller.

My sweet baby girl, who will tell me, “I your baby,” when I ask if she’s a big girl says that babies come from the TB and the park (on the swings). And I totally agree with her and will have to remember to tell her so when she asks me where they come from one day in the future!

*she sometimes mumbles a bunch of words together super fast as if they were one word (usually in a higher pitch, always impossible to decipher) before the main words come out so this is just my interpretation of what that mumble is

4.) Are you feeling brave? Ask your child where babies come from and share their answers.
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Also, if you'd like more, check out #7 in this week's yeah write.

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pink pink PINK

Rumor has it that when we were little, my brother dominated with his left hand but my dad pretty much forced him to use his right hand.

My dad forced him to rewrite things with his right hand, throw a ball with his right hand, use a fork with his right; my dad forced my brother to become right-handed.

My dad forced my brother.

There are far much worse things in the world to be forced to do, but I still find this rumor to be disturbing. My dad is not the forcing type. He can’t hold his tongue, admitting to saying whatever is on his mind even when it’s hurtful, but he’s not really a forceful person. And besides that… really? You don’t like the fact that your child is using his left hand?!? You can’t be grateful he’s at least using his hand, period? Seems so silly to me.

Last week when Lovie and I were visiting my dad and eating dinner with him and some of his friends (he lives in an independent retirement community), his friends commented, “Oh she’s left handed, too?” Apparently their granddaughter is left-handed, and apparently being left-handed is some freaky, devilish thing to old folk.

I chuckled and told them that she uses both hands but has been using her left for the most part since very early on. My father looked at me with a bit of shock and then looked at Lovie who sat next to him, fork in hand, trying to pick up some cut-up “sgetti” with her left hand.

“No, you use-ah dis hand-ah,” he told her in his thick Italian accent, trying to tell her to use her right hand.

I was dumbfounded.

“She’s doing fine,” I calmly said. “Please let her use whatever hand she wants.”

“Oh I-ah know-ah,” he said. “I was jus-ah tryin’ to see-ah if she could use-ah the right hand-ah.”

That was all that was said about that.

Yesterday, Lovie and I stopped at the park again. We were there for over an hour and Lovie didn’t do anything with the playground equipment. Instead, she spent her time ogling the bikes that were parked next to the playground.  She’d make her way to a bike, a girly pink frilly bike, and stand and/or crouch next to it and touch different things on it before looking at me with a sad, pathetic I-want-a-bike face.

When she’d finally come over to me to talk, her face was still so pathetic looking and she would say, “Mama? I want a bike.”

“You want a bike, baby girl?”

“A pink one.”

“You want a pink bike, huh?”

“Yes.”

“We’ll have to talk to daddy about that.” Or, because we had the same conversation over and over again and again, “I know you want a bike, sweet baby.”

My girl not only wants a bike, she wants a pink one. A super girly pink bike that my eyes burn when seeing.

Holy hell do I hate pink. I’ve discussed that so many times on this blog. I hate pink.

But my girl, loves pink. She loves her pink princess dress (a pink tutu I got her for Valentine’s Day), she loves her pink blanket, she loves pink.

And now she wants a pink bike. Not just a bike, which she’s wanted for some time now, but a pink one.

It used to be that I would never allow pink in the house, never buy it and hide anything pink gifted to us. I hate pink. But I always said that I’d cave once she could ask for it; I would never force my hatred of pink onto her.

So I guess it’s time to get my left-hand dominating girly girl a pink bike, huh?

a weekend listicle

10 things from the Weekend: a Listicle

linking this photo up with The Paper Mama

* Lovie and I stopped off at the park on Friday; we were the only people there. It was cold so I put a pair of baby legwarmers on her arms and hands so her hands wouldn't get so cold (hence the robotic look in the photo).  While she was climbing one of the ladders, she lost her foot and landed- crotch first- onto one of the bars. Oh dear MY crotch was hurting after that. I felt so bad for her but she wanted to keep playing and went ahead and climbed the same ladder again. Rock star kiddo.

* Saturday morning, the hubs took Lovie to gymnastics while I stayed home to clean and wait for the gas company which never showed. After they got back home, Lovie asked to take a nap (seriously) so she took one and shortly after she woke, my mom came over. While she was napping, the hubs told me how it had been one of the best days of his life. "She was so happy!" he said. Turns out they were early to gymnastics so they stopped at the park near the gymnastics place since it was so beautiful out.  When it was time to leave for gymnastics, Lovie asked to stay at the park so they did. And they played and climbed and swung and slided.  "She was just so happy," he said. "She would do something and laugh about it and she was just so happy. It was the greatest day of my life." It was awesome listening to him gush. "That's why we stop off at the park so much," I commented. "Because it really does make her so happy."

* After "Gamma" came, we talked about going back to the park. Friday's cold temperatures turned upward. It was beautiful out. We never made it out, though. Instead we all played Tea Party until a pizza arrived. Then we ate and watched a little TV before putting Lovie to bed and rushing out the door. Gamma was spending the night so the hubs and I went to a movie- Project X. Lovie will never be leaving the house without us.

* Yesterday was incredible. The temperature reached 70, there were no clouds in the sky, the birds were chirping like crazy. An absolute picture perfect day. Lovie, Gamma, and I headed out to the park pretty early. I wanted to bottle the day it was so perfect. When we got home, fresh, homemade waffles were waiting for us- thanks the hubs.

Gamma got Lovie this Tea Set for Easter- this photo is from February when she was playing with it at her cousin's house

* We chatted for a bit, Lovie poured everyone tea. The sun beamed in, the cats stretched in the sun puddles. My mom and I played Words with Friends even though we sat across the table from one another and could've just played Scrabble.

* I made ham and egg cups (so damn easy and good) and potatoes for lunch. We all chowed down despite just having had waffles a couple hours prior.

* Lovie went down for a nap. Gamma left to go home. I took a nap.

* I woke, then Lovie woke and we had some Doritos.

* We thought about going back outside, out to the park. The weather was just so unbelievably perfect. I'm generally not an outdoorsy type of person; I don't mind sitting my fat ass inside. But there was just something about this weekend, about yesterday that made me want to be outside. At one point, I even commented to the hubs how I kind of wished we had a deck or a backyard; I wanted to go out, but I didn't want to walk 6 blocks to the park. So Lovie and I watched Bubble Guppies while Daddy made some sugar cookies.

* I gave Lovie a bath and washed her hair and fell even more in love with the Mixed Chicks hair products we got the other week. Man, does the shampoo smell good. Man, does the conditioner kick ass and make it easier to comb through her hair. Man, does the leave-in conditioner work nicely. And man oh MAN do I LOVE the tangle-tamer spray for the next day. This line of products is sincerely worth every single penny. It's not cheap but a little of each goes a long way and Lovie's hair is just way more manageable.

How was your weekend?

TILThisW

I'm a pretty damn good gift giver when I have some time to think about it, and particularly when I think the receiver will be appreciative. See, I've never really been a fan of gift card gifts- giving or receiving. Sure they're nice, but I love getting something a little different, something where I can see the gifter put some time and thought into it. My husband has always been an amazing, unique gift giver. But he's always had a good job to be a little more frivolous, which I think is easier. Me? I've always been poor so I need to find ways to really make my gifts matter. And while I generally don't even give gifts to adults, when you're turning 40, you get a gift. And a fun one, damnit.

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Ever since DORA TOOK OVER THE WORLD, I've sort of dreaded tuning in to kids television. But then my kid started getting older and needed more down time so I started tuning in and avoided Dora (still do damnit!). Lovie quickly fell in love with Nick Jr. (no commercials) and shows like Team Umizoomi, Ni Hao Kai-Lan, and Bubble Guppies. But after seeing how Nick Jr. changed their style a bit... man, they piss me off. But what is scaring the most about all of this, is how much it bugs me. I've taken to writing about it on my blog. And yesterday, I friggin tweeted to Nick Jr. about it. What have I become?!?  I need to get a grip.

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Finishing near the bottom of the pack (#56 out of 62) isn't always so bad... especially when you find a really amazing writing community. That was my "win" this week for absolute sure (finding this community), and I'm stoked to write and read more next week.

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My dad's place is less than 15 minutes from Lovie's school. Who feels like the asshole now? This girl. See, my dad, 78, moved into an independent living community two years ago this June. He's a lonely guy, has been for some time. But he's in amazing shape- like one of the healthiest people I know. So of course he didn't want to move into an old folks home. But he did because he saw that I couldn't really be available for him as much as he wanted and needed. We do our best to make the rounds to family and friends every single damn weekend, but since my parents are divorced, it's really fucking hard to do. We're always spread so thin. So I thought why not give doing dinner with my dad during the week a whirl. Getting there was easy. Getting home was a nightmare. But it was doable. Really doable. And I'm making this promise right here and right now to do this at least once a month, if not every other week. Of course I didn't share this with my dad just yet as I don't need him hounding me in case something doesn't pan out.

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Lovie must've learned about Beaches and Water this week at school (and I keep forgetting to ask them about it- bad mama!). Every day when I pick her up she tells me, "I wanna go to da Beach." When I confirm this is what she said, she replies with, "Yes. I wanna go to da Water." And when I tell her we can do this when we go on vacation, she repeats, "I wanna go to da Beach" cuz she has no clue WTF "vacation" means. And she repeats it over and over again. :) Sometimes we still talk about the "da sun goes down, it gets dark" but for the most part, this week has been all about the Beach and Water.

Will you? Huh??

I haven't watched The Bachelor or the Bachelorette in years, but there are some people and/or things I wouldn't mind giving a rose to the way it's done on the show:

#1 My Lovie, my life, the oxygen I breathe. Will you accept this rose?

#2 My cell phone. I can’t believe I’ve become one of those people but I have a panic attack when you're not by my side at all times. You're my alarm clock, my camera and video recorder most days, and my entertainment when Lovie’s zoned in on Team Umizoomi. Will you accept this rose?

#3 The Keurig. God bless you Keurig maker(s). Will you accept this rose?

#4 The internet. I’d be a complete nothing without you. You're how I met my husband, you're how I pass the time when I’m at work, you help me tell my story every day. Will you accept this rose?

#5 The Wiggles and Laurie Berkner Band. Without either of your CD’s that play over and and over again in the car, car rides would be hellacious with a little someone known as my #1. Will you accept this rose?

#6 Food. Particularly the Junk kind that is horrible for me but yet oh so damn good and tasty and comforting. Will you accept this rose?

4.) On The Bachelor a rose is given to the women he could really see himself spending the rest of his life with. What six things in your life would you like to give a rose to and why?

Wordfull Wednesday: Hi

I can't believe I managed to get this shot with no other kids in it; the park was packed yesterday. I guess 70 degree temps in early March in Chicago will do that. ;)

We had another great visit yesterday. Lovie adores playing with kids. "Hi, da kid!" she exclaimed to a girl, about 6, who stopped to tell me how excited she was that Lovie was wearing the same jacket she has. I would really have a dozen kids if I could; I really do adore kids.

That all said, I was disturbed by something I saw. And I still can't shake it. Very early on in our visit, Lovie had gone off near the biggest slide which is near the regular swings (this park has the regular ones on one side and the baby swings totally opposite). As I hurried after her to stop her from getting pummeled by the big swings, I saw a small gang of kids near the exit of the big slide. They were all on the ground. It confused me for a second (why were they all on the ground? was someone hurt? was there a fight?) but I was trying to stop Lovie so I wasn't quite sure what I was seeing.

By the time I got Lovie and turned back toward the slide exit, I saw more clearly three boys, around 4 or 5 maybe, all on top of another child with long hair. The long haired child was taller than them, but he was under them and as I looked more closely and my heart beated a little faster, the 3 boys got up and the long haired one wiped his face clear of mulch and took off running. I couldn't make out what anyone said; it all happened in the matter of 30 seconds.

I think the three boys were trying to beat up the long haired one. But I'm not sure.

And even so, I should've said something. Even if they weren't beating him up, it seemed rather curious as to why they'd be on the ground like that... and the fact is, I really do think they were beating him up. And it really pisses me off that I didn't say anything. And where the hell were the adults in this situation?? I looked around while spotting Lovie up the platform to the big slide and saw only one or two adults sitting a ways away and there were a good 15-20 kids all over the place.

Next time I'm saying something, dammit.

Just be

We stopped off at the park yesterday, again, after work and school. It was sunny out, but cold- never reaching the 40s. Still, I thought why not take advantage of it being dry and sunny out?

The park we stopped at is on the way home; it's actually just off the expressway exit I take most days. It's a bit of a run down park, especially compared to the others we frequent, but I love how big it is. And empty. Especially when it's colder out.

This is about the third time we've stopped at this one. The first time was last year some time and I quickly discovered that it wasn't the best park for Lovie. But that was then and this is now. It's been a year and my kid rocks the playground these days. She's not intimidated by much of anything as far as playground equipment is concerned. And since this park has mulch down and not a lot of teenagers (shakes cane up in the air) around, I'm OK with letting her do own thing.

Nevertheless it was pretty kick ass to be witness to her making her way around yesterday. She climbed the metal (and cooooooold) curvy ladder thing up to a bridge with NO problems; she hesitated the first time a little and I did spot her but after that first climb, it was like she had done it forever. She walked up and down the bouncy bridge and sturdy bridge. She slid down every slide there- the one meant for littles like her (in photo), the medium sized one for kids a bit older, and the largest one meant for "big kids". The only thing I had to do was help her get up to the platform of the "big kid" slide because she doesn't have the upper body strength yet to hoist herself up- and the metal was DAMN cold. (You can see in that photo above that her hands are very red- bad mama!- because of how cold it was.)

When I was a kid (older than Lovie as I don't remember jack from when I was her age), I LOVED going to the park... I mean, what kid doesn't, right? Even so I loved it and think back fondly of my childhood park visits. But none of those memories include my mom. She just didn't really do much with me.

I hope that's different for Lovie. I hope I'm always in a place (free from work, physically capable, etc) to take her to the park if she wants....To see her face light up when she exclaims, "Ready? Goooo!" as she slides down the slides.... To watch her explore and climb and just be.

My goodness do I love watching this child just be.

 

Oh Nick Jr!!!

I've ranted about this before- how Nick Jr. will just BAM! change their schedule. It's ridiculous because it happens very often, but it's something I've come to expect.

However, this time, you've crossed the line, Nick Jr. And without any kind of warning.

Why on earth would you get rid of Moose and Zee? What the hell is the purpose of showing Dora 16 hours a day? Why is Ni-Hao, Kai-Lan being aired at midnight and not on On Demand?!?

WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU?!?

At first I thought it was me. Maybe I was overreacting. It's television for crying out loud. But then the more I looked around, the more I saw angry parents.

You could've at least warned us.

If you and yours enjoy (or enjoyed) Nick Jr's programming and are upset by the drastic changes, check out this petition: http://www.change.org/petitions/nick-jr-bring-moose-and-zee-back

Rubbish-ticle Listicle

Rubbish... Rubbish... oh how I adore the word "Rubbish." :)

10 things I'm Rubbish at include ....

Leaving my kid. I adore being with her and get enough time away from her when I’m at work so scheduling something during my off time from work that doesn’t include her by my side just doesn’t appeal to me… no matter how good it might be for me.

Eating healthy. No matter how much I know most foods I eat aren’t good for me, I can’t stop eating them... even if I want to!

Staying up to date with current events. The news generally depresses me and I’ve found that since becoming a mom, I’ve become even more emotionally reactive to all sorts of stories. So I tend to steer very clear of any current events.

Cleaning the toilet and litter box. I can wipe my girl’s bottom just fine, but I absolutely refuse to clean the toilet or litter box. Thank goodness the husband does it (usually after I beg) or ... blech!

Competing with others. It’s too tiring to be in constant competition with others, trying to constantly one up everyone. I’m more than content with who I am and don’t feel the need to keep up with anyone (other than my 2 year old).

Dressing myself. I just don’t give a shit about my appearance. I’m fat, not much is flattering on me, I have big boobs I try to hide unsuccessfully. So I just wear whatever as long as it’s (pretty) clean. (I do fully admit that this is one thing I would change and hope to change once I come into some extra money and lose some weight. I'm not a fan of looking like a slob; I do tend to feel better when I feel as if I'm dressed "nicer.")

Shopping. I hate it. I hate the crowds, I hate looking at a bunch of shit I can’t afford. I’d much rather sit my fat ass in front of the computer and do my shopping that way.

Socializing. Holy hell is this the number one thing I’m rubbish at. I’m as awkward as they come when it’s time to socializing in person… even if it’s with people I’m comfortable with (except my husband).

Remembering. I have a shit memory. It saddens me sometimes when people talk about their youth, their past and have these awesome stories and I have very few and the things I do remember aren’t funny- or fun- for that matter.

Holding my liquor. It’s pathetic, really. I get buzzed really fast and then want to do nothing but sleep. And if I keep drinking, I’ll start puking. So I just don’t drink.