Happy New Year...Haiku

Five fifty P.M.
I've started drinking bubbly.
Snoring loud by ten!
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Missing this again.
Haven't seen Seacrest host once.
Guess that's a good thing.

We aren't going anywhere tonight...so I guess in my own creative way...I'm just wishing you all a wonderful 2007!!!

Have a Rockin' Christmas!

Christmas day is here...Enjoy it with family, friends and Charlie Brown...

Ho ho hope Santa treats you well...

Speaking of Santa....interested in the Chronology of Mr. Claus?

...And Firemarshall Bill as Santa...

And because I love this song so much...

Have a happy holiday and a jolly new year...see you in 2007!

Carol of the chins... Keep 'a singing...Keep 'a tippin'.

I went here the other day and typed in some Christmas song titles. They know 'em all...The best is their response when you type in curse words...Yeah, I'm a child.

Have fun.. Ho ho ho...

(My dad and I used to do this all the time when I was little...He'd dress up the chin and sing and talk and I got such a kick out of it. I thought he was the funniest man alive...He still is.)

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On an unrelated to chins note:

From my last post it seems I caused an uproar because I am the only arse in creation who tips their garbage guys. What the hell? No one else does that? I thought it was mandatory...

See, here's the story:

Before we moved where we live now, in our other neighborhood (which we didn't like) all our neighbors tipped the garbage guys. So, we joined along. We were told that they "take care of you" when you tip them. Now, I didn't know what that meant at the time...Did it mean they'd give me a mani-pedi every week? Would they give me a frickin' hand-job? Cause that's the kinda "taken' care of" I wanna be with such money flying freely...

No. You know what they do? They take your fucking garbage without a complaint and the put the cans back where they found them. Hmmm....sounds like they're already getting paid by the city to do that.

Know how I know that? Because the year our daughter was born, we were too preoccupied with thinking of paying the garbage guys their extra income, and we forgot to tip them. I was lucky I had gifts for the few kids we know that year. Ya, know?

It must've been Christmas eve or day (I couldn't tell you for sure because the entire week was a totally blur with the newborn home) and we hear the truck rumbling up to the cans and the guys scurrying around like roaches to get all the garbage on the block. Then, we hear, "Where's my fucking tip?" BD and I bolted upright in the bed and looked at each other. "They did not just say that!" We both said at the same time.

Yes, they did indeed say that. They never dealt with our garbage the same way again. We lost a can, they let garbage fall into the street and left it there...They wouldn't take the big stuff like tied boxes and cardboard. They basically made our life miserable on garbage day.

This year, this is our first Christmas in the new house and we don't want to piss anyone off. It is a SMALL town. The streets are very close together as are the neighbors, everyone knows everyone here...I think the garbage guys actually live in the neighborhood too. So, to avoid condemnation from the town, we tipped the garbage guys. A lot of tip. More tip than I ever made in a day as a cocktail waitress at an upscale bar. A lot of tip. Did I mention that the tip was big?

I run out...(in my makeup) to give the guys their envelope...This is the week after they told me I make the cans too heavy and I don't bring them to the side of the curb. If I tell you how close the side of my house is to the curb on our block, you'd faint. Anyway. I give them the envelope and wish them a "Happy Holiday". I go inside and watch them from the kitchen window. And I could swear I saw the little fucker open the envelope and sneer disapprovingly at the house.

I'll let you know next week when if they pick up the garbage again.

Five Christmas Songs that Don't Make Me Puke

Now, back to our regularly scheduled programming. I'm done gushing over my daughter's newly three year old status for a while...Okay? She's three...she's a pleasure to know, I am honored to be her Mom and I'm sure you're all sick of hearing it. Thank you friends for all the birthday wishes!!!

Got this meme thing from Ali. That I honestly hated at first, but now I love. You see, I hate despise Christmas music. All kinds...it makes me want to blow chunks. I used to love it, but age and memories got me to hating it with a passion...So I've been avoiding it like the plague. But then, I got tagged! This tag has forced me to confront my past and face my fears and accept holiday music as something to admire deal with and chuckle at.

Ali, you gorgeous woman, you 'nippletoe' loving lady...I'll try anything once. And I'm a sucker for memes...I know, I'm supposed to pick five faves...this is very difficult. So after much deliberation and serious contemplation I picked 5 songs that I actually get a kick out of. Here goes:

5 Christmas songs that don't suck.

1. Holy Shit it's Christmas by Red Peters
My all time favorite Christmas song. I love how funny it is and Red's play on words just totally cracks me up.

2. 12 Pains of Christmas by Bob Rivers. Another goofy favorite. Just love it 'cause it's not so serious. And this particular video makes me giggle.

3. Mistress for Christmas by AC/DC. Love that band. Love all their songs. Love that they have a Christmas song out there. Even if it reeks of adultery.

4. Christmas in Hollis by Run DMC.
I always loved this song. I guess because I'm from Queens and so are they.

5. Wizards in Winter by the Trans-Siberian Orchestra. C'mon, how could you not?

And for your Holiday Pleasure...my favorite Christmas Movie...

Now, tag! You're it.

So funny!

In our house, you only have to say things once and the child hears you. She may not acknowledge you at the time, but don't you worry...It all registers in that brain of hers.

There are days when she'll come up with some great things like the other day. She picked up the phone and pretended to talk to her dad. I hear; "Hello, how's things? Nuthin'. Whatchya doin'? Wait, Fafa wants to talk to you, I'll put you on speaker phone. Okay, I lop you...g'bye!" She repeated the exact same thing I say to BD almost every conversation. I never even knew she heard me.

Then, once she dropped her water and yelled "Aw, shit!" at the top of her lungs. Gotta love that.

When she's playing with her imaginary friends..(which she has more of than real friends) She tells them things like; "Don't be scared, I'll protect you, Mommy's always here." Or she'll tell them; "No, honey, you can't have snack without having dinner!" Like I said, she may not agree but it all registers.

I love when she's talking to the dog...she says, "Aw Dog, you're such a mange, you dopey dog...look he's slobbering...Grody to the Maximum!" She'll laugh at him and say; "No Dog, you little shit get off the couch." Hmmm...where'd she hear that?

She hugs me and I thank her for the love and she replies, "Anytime Mom!" Oh! melts my heart. She plays with her Daddy and jokes with him and says, "Thanks big guy!"

Today, we were schnuggling in her bed after her nap and I was changing the words to 'Row Row Row Your Boat'. I was just using nonsense words like "hairily, hairily, hairily, hairily...toast and butter and cream" and she was laughing so hard, she got the hiccups. She turns to me in a fit of giggles then says; "Mommy, you crap me up!"

Yes, honey...so do you.

Cupcake Debacle

I made cupcakes (for the first time ever) for Fa's 'school' birthday party. Well, I attempted cupcakes a few times for Fa's 'school' birthday party. Last week, I tried them but I used a Whole Brand that was totally allergy free and and they came out like cardboard. I fed those to my dad for his birthday.

There are kids with allergies in this class so you have to be really careful with the ingredients. So I asked the other moms (who previously made cupcakes for their kids) what they used and lo and behold, they used a very simple method. So I thought.

Now, children, I am not writing this for prosperity's sake, mind you. (I am highly embarrassed by the whole thing) I am writing this to inform and teach because I wish someone was out there in internet heaven for me yesterday.

Those bright moms (I am being facetious) used Betty Crocker Super Moist cake mix in Golden Vanilla and Duncan Hines Creamy Homestyle Frosting in Classic Vanilla. Instead of a cake tin, they used a cupcake tin. Simple you say. Aha, me too. I even got Spongebob Cupcake wrappers for the boys and Strawberry Shortcake wrappers for the girls. I'm cool like that.

Instead of 3 eggs in the cake batter to bind and fluff the ingredients they used applesauce. Yum! You think. I know.

Well, none of those seemingly nice and helpful 'mother-truckers' told me how much applesauce to use, fuck you very much. I searched the internet and scoured the Betty Crocker website. Nothing. So I winged it. "Uhm, You can't wing it in baking" says BD. But Chef Tell didn't know either, so we both tried to do the math. One other recipe online used a cup of applesauce in place of one egg. So us geniuses decided that we should do the same. The recipe calls for 3 eggs. 3 cups of applesauce, you think?

Yeah right.

I should have known when I poured the entire jar of applesauce into the mixture that something wasn't right! But you see, I'm dense that way. I just kept on keepin on. And I was almost blissful in the process. I was a "real mom" who bakes cupcakes for her daughter instead of going to the store and buying pre-made cookies like I was originally gonna do.

I mixed with my heavy duty Kitchen Aid mixer. Uhm, not mine, BD's. remember, I don't cook. Ever!

And I waited 25 minutes for the cupsplats to harden in the oven. Nada. Needless to say I was pissed. Do ya think I used too much applesauce? No, I didn't get a picture of the cupsplats. I was too mad. By the way, I had just come from the gym that's why I'm not dressed up in my "Betty Crock of shit" apron and dress with white high heels. I am a mess and I don't want to leave the house again.

However, the things I would do for that little girl! So I sped out...again...to the supermarket for more cake mix and applesauce. BD was mad at me for drag racing down the block but it felt so good to put the pedal to the metal and zoooooom!

I bought another package of cake mix and applesauce. I was so mad, but I managed to donate my change to the Salvation Army guy ringin' his bell to the tune of "Here Comes Santa Clause". I dunno, he made me smile through all my anger.

As I'm speeding home, I remember...Fuck! We ran out of Vegetable Oil too. So I go to 7-11 to pick it up. Yeah, not such the great source for all your baking needs. So, I bought Olive Oil instead. Bite me, it was all they had.

At home, we try again. I found out that I should have only used 1/4 cup of applesauce for each egg. Thank you so very much Dummies. Finally, the batter was thick and creamy. And yummy too. All in all, the cupcakes came out great. And yummy too. There were a couple of casualties...if you look close. But hey, toddlers don't care right?

I had a horrible experience with a whole lot of cryin' over my cupcakes. (Sounds like a country song) But it all worked out in the end. Thank you BD for your help and hugs while I stomped around the house like a three year old. I know I misbehaved and I deserve a time out but I just wanted these cupcakes to be perfect for our little lady. And thank you for snapping pictures for my blog when I really didn't want you to. I appreciate your support.

I love you baby girl. I'd do anything for you!

*****Updated!*****

I think they were a hit!

This makes me laugh so hard...

I cry and pee a little when I hear it. (Thanks BD for sending it to me today!)

click here

If you don't have the patience to listen to the 'hole' song fast forward to the ending where it gets faster.

Andy Dick is so freakin' funny.

Birthday Party #1

We had our cousins over last night for sushi and cake.
Her Aunts and Uncles tried so hard to play with her and she just didn't want any piece of it. Sometimes she can be a real snob. But in Fa's defense, she hates people in her grill. And for some reason, these particular family members invade her space and happen to get in her face often. She just doesn't know how to say "back off" just yet. And once you let her warm up, she's a pleasure to play with. They just don't allow her that time. Sooooo....

She didn't want to share her toys. She wouldn't play with the girls. She wouldn't even talk to anyone but BD and Myself. Can you all say "attached"? Am I doing something wrong?

She whined a lot and cried because we wouldn't keep the dog out of his crate. The damn dawg won't sit still for two seconds. You can't have company over because he'll burst an artery. So we crated him and she lost it.

Her Aunt and Uncle gave her some very cool games from this company. I never heard of them but the toys are great. She is now playing with this and this at the same time. She can't get enough!

We had cake. But under no circumstances were we allowed to sing "Happy Birthday" or light candles. Snob.

Fa Fa is a Punk Rocker...

I know I've mentioned this plenty of times before...But Fa loves Metal. All kinds. Metallica, Megadeth, Led Zepplin, Def Leppard. She loves the classics like The Doors and the hair bands like Poison. She loves Nine Inch Nails and Marilyn Manson. She dances and sings to many of the '80's hair bands' that I adore to this day. I love that about her.

Today she discovered Guns and Roses. We listened to Appetite for Destruction, one of my all time favorites and she totally flipped out over "Nightrain". It was so hysterical to watch her make her little 'devil horns' and bang her head while Axl sang; " Wake up late, Honey put on your clothes. Take your credit card to the liquor store. That's one for you and two for me by tonight I'll be loaded like a freight train, Flyin' like an aeroplane, Feelin' like a space brain One more time tonight..."

Now, I have to get her to sing all the words...too cute. I can't take it.

Rock on sistah! Rock on!

Dear Baby Girl,

Well my sweet feet, you are three years old. Officially in 8 days, but you have grown in the past month like I can not believe. These past three weeks have been full of exploration and self-discovery for you. These past three years have been filled with joy, happiness, love and insecurity. But all the while my love for you blossoms. I am grateful for your soul and for your lessons on life and love. I am forever honored by your presence and I will always be unconditionally in love with you.

It seems like yesterday, when I found out you were a girl and I saw you suck your thumb and yawn in your sonogram. You were 13 ounces and oh! so tiny. But I could tell you were filled with strength just by looking at your tiny, little spine. We watched you wiggle and stretch and we fell instantly in love. I couldn't wait to meet you.

Your first year was very difficult. I had a hard time finding my 'Mommy Footing' and you had a hard time adjusting to the world. I was off balance and feeling very insecure about my new role as your Mom. It felt like it took the entire year to bond with you and have that connection that all new mother's dream about. I still regret not feeling closer with you sooner but I know it all worked out exactly the way it should. You were insecure, sensitive and colicky and so was I.

I was very sad when you were born. I missed you not being in my belly and I was scared and unsure of myself because I felt like I didn't deserve you. I felt like you deserved better and I was on a mission to find you the perfect Mommy. Back then, I wasn't aware that she was in fact, me.

I worked very hard to make myself strong for you and to learn how to deal with life as a Mom. The responsibility and fear is overwhelming and I wasn't sure I could do it. Especially since I didn't have my Mommy to help me. I didn't have anyone to ask. I didn't have my Mom to tell me I could do it. I was never expected to do anything as important as be your Mommy and I was scared I'd fail you. And all along, all I really needed was to trust myself and to trust you.

I regret the fact that your first steps and first words along with many other firsts were clouded by my insecurities. However, I am thankful that you taught me how to enjoy life and relax a little and take each day in baby steps just like you have been doing from the beginning. Our development together is astounding. I am proud of us. I am watching you grow and learn and break new ground in your world as I do the same in mine. We walk side by side and step by step with just the right amount of learning and teaching. We are a great team, my girl. We are getting there together.

Then came your second year. It was so much fun. We found our formula. We enjoyed each others company and had a blast spending time together. You were growing exponentially. You were strong and smart and developing so quickly. Your milestones were met...tenfold...and you amazed us with each new action and word. You were a talker and a singer and a fantastic dancer...and you discovered your body in your second year of life. You discovered all the fun things it can do like jump and run and play. You still play with all your might. I envy your enthusiasm for every new thing.

You realized that you are independent and smart and capable of many things. And you realized that you have likes and dislikes and opinions that matter. You figured out that you can indeed choose your own socks even if they don't match the rest of your outfit. And you yelled and screamed to make sure you were heard clearly. You discovered you love to be free to play soccer and basketball and run in the park and you can do it all on your own. The possibilities are endless.

In your second year, I was lost there for a while as your Mom and I feared that our connection, if cut, would lose me as a person forever. I couldn't give you up to others, I couldn't leave you with anyone else. I couldn't fathom you living your life separate from mine. But I realized that we both have needs and sometimes they are not for each other. We each need other things like Daddy, and friends and love from others to make us stronger. We need to find self worth and self esteem separate from each other. And we need to know that we are always there for each other, but self-efficiency is quite important in order to maintain a healthy and strong mind-body relationship. You, my darling, have taught me that.

You discovered that you are definitely independent of me and you are your own person. In fact, I also discovered that even though I will always be your Mommy and I carry your heart in my chest, I am independent of you too. We are not the same person and we both have opinions and ideas that matter and I love that we can share them together as 'sistas', but most importantly as Mother and Daughter.

You discovered that the world around you is large and filled with many different people and things. A lot of it frightened you and you were very shy and cautious. You took your time warming up in new situations (you still do) and you were very cautious with new people (you still are). But, my darling, when you were comfortable in your surroundings you sure did shine like the brightest star in the sky! I am amazed at how comfortable you are becoming in your world. As I am in mine.

You have taught me the importance of trust and love and understanding all while you were learning the same things in your life. You have taught me to trust myself in spite of myself. If you can find the strength in me that I thought I was missing, then I can keep it there for you too. If you trust me to teach you about life and relationships and love, than I can be confident enough to do it for you. I must do that for you. I am your Mother. Your first role model. The one you will love and hate and be embarrassed by all in a matter of seconds. But I must be strong for you and help you learn that no matter what, I will always love you and be there for you.

Your third year has been an eye opener for the both of us. You have finally found your voice and you know how to use it. You are finally more confident to speak up when you want something not just from Mommy & Daddy but from other people as well. You are beginning to understand that the world around you is very large and can be scary at times but you always find a way to cope with fear and anxiety and you try your best to enjoy your time wherever you are. You are truly a work in progress and I am so proud of all that you are learning about yourself.

It is difficult sometimes for you to have fun in new surroundings but you are such a happy little girl. You fall asleep singing in your bed every night and you wake up singing in your bed every morning. What a joy it is to see you enjoying life and being so happy. I never saw such pleasure in making up songs and playing with toys and 'imaginary truck friends'. You truly have this toddler thing down. I worry sometimes because I want you to be happy and I question sometimes whether you are. But when I see you smile and hear you sing, I know you will be alright.

I am not surprised. You always reach great heights with every attempt at something new. From feeding yourself to sleeping in a big girl bed to hanging out with family and friends when Mommy goes someplace by herself...Generally, being a three year old. I've found that you do it so well.

I love the way you get your own snack from the snack cabinet and hand it to me (always with a smile) to put in a bowl. I adore the way your baby talk has bloomed into full blown speech and your language is so mature and smart. You communicate your feelings even when you'd much rather throw your toys or your lovey when you are mad at me. And, you tell me when you are mad at me and the reasons why. I love the way you chasse and skip, never walk, all over the place. I love the way you observe every little thing and point out your new found knowledge to me. It makes me see things in an entirely different way. You teach me to really see things for what they truly are, not just look at things as they may seem from the outside.

You have become so loving and affectionate and I love the way you wrap your arms around my neck and plant sweet, sweet kisses on my cheek with a "smack". I love when you tell me that I am your "favorite Mommy ever" and "Daddy is the best Daddy of all time". You melt my heart when you say thank you and tell me you love me every night after I tuck you into bed.

You are creative and funny and silly and smart. You have imaginary friends and you are so caring toward them, making sure they are fed, happy and healthy and not afraid of the lawnmowers or vacuum cleaners. You truly care about their well being. How did you learn compassion so easily? How did you learn that being nice is important to others? How do you know when to use sincerity?

Thank you my love for giving me the best three years of my life. They are trying at times, scary at times and overflowing with joy all the time and I wouldn't change a second of it. I am in awe of you and your heart and your soul. Your smile and your laughter melts me to my core and makes me feel like I can do anything as long as you believe I can. With you and Daddy by my side, all is perfect in the world. You are my family and I adore you.

As I watch that helpless infant fade from your face and see you transform into a confident young girl, I am saddened by the loss. But I will always look back on those first days with fondness and joy, and I embrace the new little person you are becoming. You envelope my soul. I love you with all my heart and I will always take comfort in knowing that out of all the little girls in the world, I got the very best one.

We decorated the tree today!

Yay us!
We put up the Christmas tree today.
We had a ball setting it up and putting the ornaments from
"the box" on the branches.

This is what it looks like in the corner of our living room.

Right to the side of the front door.

This is our beauty from another angle.

We had a wonderful day, filled with more tradition and fun.
I just adore my family!

Happy 70th Birthday Daddy!

I love you.

Oh! The Agony!

My daughter and I have a small problem. Now, I wouldn't say it's a bad problem or one that requires a doctor. But I thought about it. We are NEVER separated. It's almost like we are Siamese twins, joined at the lips. We are in each others pockets all day long and I am not complaining, don' t get me wrong. But, I saw the circumstances of our air tight connection last night.

I took her to her first 'dance class'. I was so excited I could spit. Ever since we found out she was a girl and I saw her "dancer's spine" in her sonogram. I pledged to enroll her into dance class the day she turned three. Well, 'three' is in exactly 14 days. I enrolled her in class starting January, so I get a trial class to see if she likes it. Well, I have to ask...How am I supposed to know if she actually likes it when she's screaming "I want my Mommy" the entire time?

Ok, not the entire time. But the last, say, 35 minutes of class. That's a long time to be screaming, no? She screamed and cried so much that her nose bled.

Initially, she went right in the dance room, because she was so excited about dance class...(I talked it up for a week.) Before class, she hopped around asking, "When can I go into dance class?" Then the teacher (a very patient young lady) introduced herself as Miss L and Fa hid behind my leg. Ok, then.

Miss L told all the little girls in tutu's and tap shoes...whatta sight...to "come on in!" Fa went in willingly. I said, "Go girl, have fun. I love you!!" and blew kisses. She glanced back like a dear in the headlights. "Where are you going Mommy?" From that point, Mommy always went with her to class...every single class. Damn you Mommy & Me.

I reminded her (because we discussed this repeatedly) that "Mommy doesn't take dance class with her. This is her class and she should have fun." I watched her in the window and she stood in her place in the group with her hands in her mouth (panicking) most of the time. But she stayed and I let her be. Then, the teacher made a major faux pas. She tried to hold Fa's hand! I guess I shoulda warned her that she doesn't like to be touched by anyone. But really, the kid does have to get used to others touching her in class, right? My bad.

She panicked again and hid her face in her hands and they called me in. I hugged her and told her it was okay and she was doing great! She could do this if she just let herself have fun. But she was done. "I don't want to stay here!" she screamed....loudly. I told her we weren't leaving and she would finish the class...Then they switched into ballet shoes, but she didn't want to be bothered.

After ballet, they have gymnastics and she heard that and wanted to join in. So, I left again...That's where the screaming hit new heights. She made dogs in Alaska wince. I left her alone because the teacher seemed to have it all under control. Until Fa's nose started bleeding. Then I had to be summoned again. I cleaned her up.

We stayed until the end of class...she got her stamps on her hands and feet just like all the other little girls who learned something. I apologized and asked what they thought. And they all said, "Don't give up, keep trying". She'll get used to it. And I know this is true. I've seen it in my own dance classes and my own classroom. Kids adjust. They get used to their surroundings eventually. But why is it so hard for me to know that with my own flesh and blood?

So next week, we try again. I am determined to get her adjusted to this. It's for her own good. It's a matter of independence and self-esteem. She must be able to survive without me. At least for a few hours.

If I was the teacher, I'd just make the mom leave and I'd deal with it. But in all my experience with children, in all the breakdowns by mom and child, in all the wet bottoms and sprained ankles, in all the shyness and self-conscious, I have never had a student as shy and untouchable as Fa...These ladies have their work cut out for them.

But I am not giving up and I am not letting her give up. It's for her own good.

Another tradition!

I'm on a roll here...boys and girls.
Last night, we took Fa to the village tree lighting ceremony here in town. It was freezing but there were refreshments, caroling, the Christmas Tree and the big guy himself. Fa could care less about the man in the red suit (we can't even utter his name in the house). So we didn't get any pictures of him. He was busy handing out candy canes to all the good boys and girls anyway.

A new tradition has begun! It was so much fun. We laughed and snuggled to keep warm...I took many pictures of the wrong tree before it was lit. Then, we went home and opened up Fa's third box on her Advent calendar...She looks so forward to that every night.

I am really getting into the Christmas spirit here. I am proud of myself because I am having fun while I am not forcing the issue...it's just coming naturally. Our holiday cards are almost finished. I just have to get some address verifications from BD with his family overseas, then I can send those suckers out too. Hey, I'm having fun. Cool.

At her age, Fa is really making this easy. She is excited and cautious all at the same time and I love that about her. I would love a Santa photo op. However, I have resigned myself to the fact, like the potty thing, that she will get to it on her own time. Once she truly realizes that the Red Man is cool, she'll totally give him her wish list.

In a few weeks my little baby girl will be a full blown three year old. Where has the time gone? I am so happy to be starting these memories with her. When she gets older, she may not remember last night, but I will and I'll remind her about it often even when she's too cool for her Mom. I am so proud to be her Mom and the title scares me sometimes. I just hope I can do it justice. I want her to be proud of me too. Whoever decided that I deserve her gets a big hug and smooch from me that's for sure. I am forever thankful for her presence in my life. I tell her every night since the day she was born; "Out of all the little girls in the world, I got the very best one!!!" And I am truly blessed.

You gotta fight for your right to Paaaaty!

I'm resigning myself to the fact that my child is just not ready for potty time.

We had a potty party yesterday! (Whoo hoo)... Complete with home-made hats, songs, dances and panty-matching games. We danced and sang all day in our panties..yes...picture that. And while she held it in for hours upon hours, she never actually sat on the pot to release. She flat out refuses.

By the end of the day, she was bloated and cranky and practically begged for a Pamper. As soon as I put it on her, she crapped. I can't say that I was much help yesterday either. I was am quite cranky these past few days. I just think the stress of the potty and the holidays is really getting to me. I wonder how she is feeling? Wait, I think I know. Good thing my Aunt was here for the party...she controlled the parts where I lost all control. It was tag-team potty party. It still didn't work.

I thought for sure she was ready. I gave her the choice of when she wanted to have the party, she chose yesterday. She decided when she wanted to wear the panties and I didn't remind her to keep dry, she did it all by choice. But when the 'pee pee dance' started, she just went bananas and refused. She ran away and cried in the corner telling us to leave her alone...just hating the thought of sitting on the crapper.

So, I yelled and lost patience all day and she got mad at me and wanted to keep far away from me. It was really great fun. Not. My kid's new mantra is "Mommy's mad." Probably not the way to potty train. Ya think?

I guess I should have known yesterday morning after the turn of events before the actual potty party began. First, I took her for a haircut and she screamed and cried and refused to sit in the cool jeep to get her hair cut. The blow driers and vacuums totally freaked her ass out. It sure wasn't like the last time she got her hair cut. Then afterward, she told me she was mad at me because she was scared and I made her stay there anyway.

Then, we went to Party Giant to get party hats for the potty party. I drove all the way into Queens to the 'closest' Party place and it was boarded up with signs all over it. Great. I was cursing.

Then, we went to Michael's to find some hats we could either just buy or make...we found some foam visors with cool foam stickers to go with them. They had "boingy" elastic on them and she fell instantly in love. They turned out gorgeous, but the tantrum in the store because she didn't want to leave should have tipped me off.

Finally, we came home and she refused to wait for my Aunt to come over to decorate the hats. She wanted to do it all by herself. I have a hard time reminding myself I need: Patience, Mommy!

We started the potty party and it all went way down hill from there. Yes. I fought for my right to potty. But the child could care less.

We even made a home complete with potty (out of the holiday boxes that UPS delivered) for her to play in...Didn't work. She loves the new home but could live without it's potty. We colored the walls outside and in, I even cut out windows with shutters and a flower box for her. I am very proud of our masterpiece.

I guess, since I can't get rid of the stress of the holidays I'll have to get rid of the stress of potty time. I'll get back to it in the new year. I may be in a padded room by then. Ha!

A-Z of me + A New Tradition

Today's December 1st! I am starting a new tradition with my daughter. (yay me) I bought her an Advent calendar from Starbucks, (of course) to count down the days 'til Christmas and give us both something to look forward to. (I realize I am not teaching her the exact idea behind 'Advent' but I am doing what feels right for me...I am introducing the concept which we can research, or not, when she gets older and decides for herself)...I am very excited for her to see this calendar. I remember when I was a kid, my mom did the same thing with me. My Aunt would buy the calendar every year, and Mom and I would open it every night, piece by piece, day by day...I looked so forward to that little piece of chocolate! I begged to open it days sooner and she always told me, "Go ahead, but when you are done and there's no more chocolate to open...that's your problem." Ha! Whatta woman. Lay it all out there. So I am starting my first tradition with my girl. I am very proud of myself.

Also,
...I've been doing a lot of these lately...I'll just do them, they make me smile...if you read it and comment I love you for it, if you don't, that's okay too...

Thanks Mel...See, I told you I'd get to it...

A-Z of Me !!!

A - Available/Single? Married for 5 years!
B - Best Friend? SF, BD, K, G
C- Cake or Pie? Cake, chocolate, rich, creamy...yum.
D - Drink Of Choice? Coffee...injected into an IV if at all possible.
E- Essential item you use every day. The telephone. 
F - Favorite Color? Purple, or as we say 'round these parts...'poi-ple'.
G - Gummy Bears Or Worms? Yuck, neither.
H - Hometown? (born in ) Queens, NY
I - Indulgence? French Fries, Pizza, Chocolate, Sushi
J - January Or February? February...It's my Birthday!
K - Kids Their Names? 1, Farfallina
L - Life Is Incomplete Without? Hugs
M - Marriage Date? August Third
N- Number Of Siblings? 1 kinda, sorta brother...Hummm...I smell a post coming on...
O - Oranges Or Apples? Apples, with peanut butter
P - Phobias/Fears? Jesus...I'd be here all friggin' day. I'll just say yes.
Q - Favorite Quote? "Sometimes you have to jump, and build your wings on the way down"
R - Reason to Smile -My daughter
S - Season? Spring
T - Tag Four People? Now, I just won't do it...If you want to try this, go ahead.
U - Unknown Fact About Me? With this blog, there is none...Um, I love to sleep.
V - Vegetable you dont like? None...
W - Worst Habit? Complaining too much.
X - X-rays You've Had Recently.. My teeth...no cavities thank you very much.
Y - Your Favorite Food? Mexican, Japanese
Z - Zodiac Sign? Pisces...I don't smell like fish.

Damn You

Potty This!

I can't take it. I must be the world's biggest Dummy.

She's just not ready yet. According to the book above anyway.

She'll be three in less than a month, but she's just not ready. I am reading now that her physical development is just not mature enough. She can't won't get on and off the pot, she can't won't undress/dress herself...she holds it in for hours in her panties...but will NOT sit on the pot when she hasta go... Which means her emotional development is also not ready. I am getting frustrated.

Yesterday morning, deep into late afternoon, she held it all in the entire time she was in her panties. I put her in her pull ups for a nap at around 1:30 PM and not a second later...the dang pull up needed to be changed. What the? She's too smart for our own good, I think.

She knows when she hasta go. She wore panties all weekend...Until we had to go out or nap. She held off until the pull ups came out. It was a waiting game. I waited for her to have an accident or actually go in the pot when I put her there...and she waited (patiently) for the pull up to surface.

Ugh. Double Ugh...Triple ugh.

Adios Kittenstein...Is the dog next?

This is an e-mail I sent to a friend telling her about the sicko cat we had for almost a year...I don't understand my luck with animals. I can't seem to bond with the four legged fur-balls. I dunno, maybe it's me?

This happened about a year ago...
But the memory still haunts.

"The cat...Oh the cat....the cat has left the building! Yup, we got rid of her. OK...here's the situation...don't laugh too hard especially if you are at work....:

Fa and I were playing with her instruments that she got for her birthday. She had the drum and I had the kazoo. Well, we're playing and laughing and carrying on when all of a sudden out of nowhere....The cat comes running in, BARKING and howling and hissing at me. She was hissing and yowlling, her fur was on end, her ears were back and her tail was thick. I panicked. I grabbed SF and locked ourselves in the bedroom.

She's screaming, I'm screaming the cat's screaming. It was like Cujo for cats. The cat wouldn't let us out of the room. She guarded it and growled when I tried to escape! Then, she calmed down a little so we left our confines but then, she blocked the stairway. The bitch wouldn't let us go up the stairs. Fa's room is upstairs. We're all still screaming and then....Fa throws up all over the couch. I got her so upset that she puked. Now I had to clean the smelly, regurgitated big bird cracker-stained couch with an evil cat on my tail. I was so scared....The scene was so evil, I was walking around with a broom for safety...Every move I made the cat would lose it and try to pounce. I never heard sounds like that before...Like a lawnmower with a frog caught in it. I called the animal shelter and they didn't want her either.

Six hours later...BD came home. The cat almost jumped him too. He got her to calm down and we locked her in the laundry room. She stayed there all night. She was afraid of me. I guess she associated me with the kazoo....Every time she saw me she snapped again.

Needless to say...Adios kittenstein....

I always hated this cat...

OK now you can laugh"

The dog just might be next...One more accident and Adios Pupster...

So I get this e-mail this week

I am a member of Parent Center online. It is a very helpful resource for first time and experienced parents. I love getting updates on Fa's milestones and goals for her age group. This e-mail gave me douche-chills though...

No sillies, not the nap part...I can deal with 'quiet time' in her room, just as long as I get a break too...

Did you catch paragraph three??? Here, I'll paste it here for you so you can really get a good look:
"Being interested in the differences between girls and boys is a normal part of growing up. Try not to react with shock or horror if you find your child in the midst of an anatomy check with another child. Just let both children know that penises and vaginas are kept private and steer them toward another activity. They'll probably be relieved, since they may already have some sense that the game they were playing is taboo."

What the? It starts this early?! For Christ's sake. I can't deal with that. Now, I know if you've read this post...you know I am all for being honest and real when it comes to 'life lessons'. But three? Holy Canoli people. I don't think I'm quite ready for honesty that early...I need a drink.
__________________________________________
Also, she still refuses to pee or poop on the potty. I am trying all sorts of negotiation tools. Cookies, m&m's, Littlest Pet Shop Pets, Rubber Gloves...(Yes, rubber gloves the kid likes to pretend to be a doctor, ugh...see above) Nothing. Jeez this kid has a stiff constitution. She will be the girl who walks down the aisle in a Depends.

Turkeys, Ornaments and Memories...Oh, my!

This is a long one...Come back when you have time unless you are in the mood for a good vent.


Jesus. The holidays are upon me. Here we go again. It seems I can't get away from dealing with this shit. There is a point throughout every year when it all just has to get dealt with. From the 'Hat Trick' to the Holidays. I'm never away from it.

Thanksgiving is my Dad's favorite holiday. He loves turkey and he lurrves that crazy cranberry-can shape-globule. You know the one, he practically begs for it every year. I love spending time with him and Thanksgiving is no different. It's just that with Fa, now everyone wants to get a hold of her for the holidays and there is just not enough time in the day. I miss him during the holidays when I am not with him. And I am not the 'social butterfly' that you may all think I seem to be...hee hee. I like it quiet. At all times. Even the holidays. I have reasons.

I am a hermit and the holidays just make me shake. With all the people and touching and hugging and kissing. Ugh. And they don't even do it to me. They do it to poor Fa. Who also hates being mauled. I hate seeing her so uncomfortable in the crowded atmosphere of the holiday table. I get that 'Mamma Lion ready to pounce on anyone who makes her cry' feeling in the pit of my stomach. (And anyone getting in her grill makes her cry too). It makes me so nervous.

I have read in all the parenting mags that forcing your child into a crowded situation does not make her more comfortable. People must keep their distance and let her warm up. But no one wants to hear it. I want to cry. I know I make it worse because she feeds off of me and she knows when I tense up in these surroundings. Then, she gets just as tense. I try to breathe deeply and reassure her that its okay, but inside I am a tangled mess of sickly intestines and she knows it. Damn intuition.

Then, after turkey day. "The box" comes out. My therapist knew this box well. It took a long time to acknowledge "The Box". I didn't have a Christmas tree for years and when BD and I were living together and he finally wanted one, we only had lights and bows. I didn't want to deal with "The Box".

You see, it is filled with all of the ornaments that I had as a kid. The same ornaments that my Mother held so dear to her heart. Every year, she'd pull out "The Box" and reminisce about her past and show me her favorites and listen to Johnny Mathis on the record player while she happily put up the tree. I loved that day. I loved seeing her happy! Tree trimming day. We would watch "A Charlie Brown Christmas" and all those other Christmasy shows with "Rudolf" and "Charlie in the box" at the Land of Misfit Toys. Then, we'd slap Johnny Mathis on the record player and get to work. Every year, I wished that day would never end.

Well, boys and girls. That day does indeed end. And then, it leaves you with hurt and sadness and grief and you never want to see that "Box" or that day again.

Until Fa came along. I had to get "The Box" out. I dreaded it. But it was inevitable. I had to spice things up during the holidays for her. Her birthday is 5 days before Christmas so I had to get in the spirit. It sucked. I hated it. Especially the first Christmas when she was five days old. I was a mess of ppd. Damn, you couldn't even look at me or I'd cry. But then, the next year it got a little better and so on and so on. This year, I want to start new memories, but I don't have anyone to ask how to do that. All of my holiday memories are stunted. And memories of my Mother are vivid but few. How do I create a happy place for the holidays when I am not feeling so happy about the place I'm in?

These days, I can take out "The Box" without hysterics. However, that feeling in the pit of my stomach always returns. I am torn. I want Fa to enjoy the memories that we make together but why does it have to hurt me so much? Will it ever get better? Or should I say, will the pain ever get duller?

I pray Fa understands that she is my air and she is what makes me tolerate another holiday season. I do it all for her. Holidays are brighter because of her and I cherish her for that. Now, how do I create some really special memories for me and her to share? How do I create memories that will dull the sadness in my heart and bring a smile to our faces throughout the holidays and beyond? How do I teach her that memories are a great resource to go to when you are down, when my memories bring me so far down?

Oh the grossness!

Today's topic is 'foods that I love that others think I'm crazy for eating'. Well, you see, I am a picky eater so my post is gonna go the other way. There are certain foods that just really make me gag that other consumers in the circle of life find quite normal to eat on a daily basis.

For example, red meat. Red meat of any of the normal variety, really. Hamburgers, steak, veal, meatballs. ugh. It makes my skin crawl. You see, when I was younger, I ate red meat. I loved cheeseburgers and french fries. Then one day, I got one of those gritty little-ballies in a burger, you know..the gristle. The thing that is so tiny yet so horrifically disgusting when you are taken by surprise by its hardness. Yeah, one of those. I swore off burgers forever.

Then, as I got older and started taking note of what I put in my body, the whole idea of cooked flesh just weirded me out. Now, don't get me wrong, I'm not all for "saving the cows" I know they are there to be consumed, its nature. I wear leather (rowr) and I have black & white, calf skin cowboy boots...(I know you're jealous now) I am not a member of any of those "save the fill in the blank's" and I think that red meat is a great source of iron and protein. I just don't wanna eat it.

This however, causes a great deal of raucous in many houses I visit for dinner. I don't understand why! Just because I can't eat the pasta with the meat sauce you cooked because I taste the meat flavor or the veal shank you prepared for hours because the bone sticking out just makes me quiver. Don't get so upset. I'll eat plain pasta. I eat chicken too...(even though when I think about what it is really, I get queasy, so I try not to think about it) I'm not all that hard to please. Salad works just fine too. I even sometimes bring my own turkey burgers or chicken cutlets to bar-b-q's just in case. (I have been caught with nothing but hot dogs and burgers one time too many!)

Don't panic though. I'll eat before I get there if you want. I can gladly eat a bowl of rice or cereal if you truly have nothing else. I just don't like the taste or the smell or the texture or the idea of red meat. That's all. I am a picky eater. But I don't think dinner hosts should freak out every time I come over. I am very flexible...Just as long as it hasn't mooed, baa'd, oinked, quacked, meowed or barked before you got your hands on it. Now is that so bad?

Typical

Me on the phone: Dad, turn on Dr. Phil! He has hoarders on. You hafta see this.

Dad: (struggling to find the power button on the remote) Hang on. Shit. (stumbling) These damn machines. Where's that button? Nothing is ever easy...When you think it's gonna be easy...it's not. There. (long silence) What is this?

Me: Hoarders dad. Like you.

Dad: What?

Me: You know, pack rats. People who save every-frickin-thing and don't throw anything out. Like you. I thought you should watch this.

Dad: Oh! 'Hoarders'...I thought you said 'Whores'! This isn't interesting, what else is on? Where's Spongebob?

The way I learned it.

When I was about 7 years old. I was in the bathroom with my mom (a usual occurrence) and she had "Aunt Flo"; she called it "her friend". I asked what it was and the answer flat out: I have my period. The conversation led to a woman's menstrual cycle and why we get it and what happens when you get it. Which led to "the birds and the bees".

Once again, Mom was real and honest and didn't use 'baby' terms for anything. Now, looking back I am grateful that she didn't sugar coat anything and that she was real, open and honest. I literally could talk to her straight about any-thing! One of the many of my mom's best qualities.

She used the technical terms for everything and she whipped out different books geared towards teaching children about sex. I have them still, I just can't find them. They looked a lot like this site here. (pretty graphic for a 7 year old) One book (that I can't find online) was called "Before You Were a Baby" by Paul Showers. I still have it in my basement. I plan on using it when the time is right.

I am all for explaining it the way you feel most comfortable. Some people find it difficult to talk about certain topics like how and why you 'do it'. But like my mom, I am most comfortable just saying it. (when it comes to this stuff) I hope when the time comes and Fa is inquiring, I'll be ready and willing to share the secret.

I remember moments like this with my mom and I miss her terribly. I wish she was here to talk about other things like being a Mom and family and well, sex. I am thankful that she taught me certain things but regretful that she still can't be here to teach me more. I always respected her outlook on things. I still wish I was like her.

I remember one time, I was in maybe 7th grade and I was talking poorly about some chick, I don't even remember her name. Wait, yes, I do. But I won't tell you. She approached me and asked if I was talking about her. I admitted it and said I was talking about her because I hated that she "did so and so things" (I think she was just a bitch) and not many people liked her because of it...even the girl that told her I was talking about her hated her. I was shitting my pants but she didn't know it. It ended there.

I went home that day and cried to my Mom. I was upset that the other girl, "my supposed friend" ratted me out and that the chick I was talking about had the balls to call me out. My Mom's advice: "Fuck 'em. Tell both of them to go shit in the woods and tell them to stay far away from you or they'll be sorry. And if you have to, get her down on the ground...they are all the same size as you when they are on the ground." Uhm, OK.

So what did I do? I did what Mom told me to do, of course. Was I shitting? Yes. Guess what happened after that? I was the coolest chick in the 7th grade (for a while anyway). No one fucked with me and everyone wanted to be my friend. And I didn't even have to try to drag her ass to the ground. Yes. Sweet Success.

My Mom was a tough chick. Once, she pulled some lady out of her car and beat the shit out of her for a parking spot under the "El" in Long Island City. The cops came and had to pull her off the woman. Mom had the woman's thumb in her mouth and she was biting down on it and she didn't even realize. She grew up in the Queens Bridge Projects and fought everyone. If you know NYC, you know the Projects. You don't wanna be there. She beat the piss out of boys and girls, she didn't discriminate. After she fought with them and totally kicked their asses, they became her friends and protected her.

I always valued her toughness and hard ass. I wish I was like that. I pretend to be, but I'm not. That's the way I learned about life. I hope I can be as tough for my daughter. I hope Mom's toughness spills into her, my toughness is flighty and unreliable. Our mouths are exactly the same though.

But I did wind up getting my daughter an extra lovey...just in case.
I told you I'd do anything for her.

e-mail From Gerber

I am shit out of luck from Gerber...This is the e-mail I received today.

Laundress,

Thank you for your e-mail and telephone call.

We have checked with our warehouse but there were no pink gingham diaper style burp cloths left in stock. We are sorry to disappoint you.

We are taking this opportunity to send you some coupons which we hope you will find useful and will help offset your disappointment.

Best wishes from your friends @ gerber.com.
________________________________________
Good thing for K and her Southern Belle Sista.

By the way...there were no coupons attached to the e-mail. Boo, Hiss...

Burpgate

Well, I won the burp bid! Yay, me. I can't say I'm excited. I was so stressed over it, I feel like it is almost a let down now. All that trouble and what?

I had to overpay way more than my orignial bid because of the 'wonder-brain' who out-bid me the other day. I swore I was winning those suckers...on principle. I still think they may not be the right ones. Now, I'll just wait and see.

I spoke to a kind lady at Gerber.com today and she is going to research the discontinued items for me and get back to me as soon as possible. I begged and pleaded with her. She felt terrible for me and SF.

I am waiting for the other kind woman that I found over at that 'bidding-arena' to let me know when her cloths are ready. I ordered 4 from her...they aren't the right ones either.

All I can say is if Gerber doesn't get back to me with what I need so desperately to hear. I am screwed. Fa is screwed. She will ultimately learn that you can't always get what you want...or what you need for that matter.

More updates to come.

****It just keeps getting better...
My bestest buddy K has located two (2) yes, t.w.o original 'Gerber Baby Pink Gingham burpies' all the way from Alabama. Thank goodness for her crazy family down south. They happened to have them...whoo hoo and yee haw. Thank y'all so very much. They are in the mail coming to my house as I type.

I also have 4 pink gingham burp cloths made from a sweetie on e-bay and I'm still waiting for the other burps I bid on yesterday!!!

All's settling in nicely here at Burp Central...for the time being.

Where's all the burp cloths?~Part Deux

Thank you all so much for your concern and care regarding my daughter's lovey. I wanna hug you all and have you over for chocolate chip cookies.

I am waiting to win this precious bid. I found out that the person bidding against me is someone I kinda know. That's what I get for putting feelers out to people 'I think' I know. I'll leave it at that. You can make up your own stories in your head about how I feel about that. Your ideas aren't half as great as the real way that I feel. I haven't acknowledged it yet, for fear that this person might be slightly mental? It's just a very weird scene. I am totally weirded out here. I'll just say, what mother out there that's a quarter normal would try to take away another child's comfort? Knowing full well how important it is...

I also came in contact with another woman who actually makes them. (I won't even say where I found her for fear that I might be sabotaged again.) She has four pink gingham burps that I told her I want...desperately. I am waiting for her reply. Then, in desperation and on the verge of shaking, I e-mailed Gerber and asked them if there was any way they could supply me with the actual frickin' burp cloth that is from their company. I am waiting for their reply too.

So, that is where I am at this moment in time. I appreciate all of your support. Thank you for showing me that I am not a freak and thank you for helping me see that this is an important object in my daughter's life that as her mother, I should fight for. I will get her these burps, if it is that last thing I ever do. Moms all over the world understand me.

Except maybe for one.

Where's all the burp cloths?

I am in deep shit.

Fa has this burp cloth that she can NOT live breathe without. She sleeps with it, eats with it, takes it every-fuckin'-where. She adores this thing. We used to have two of them. Then my bestest buddie K gave me her daughter's final (and not needed) pink gingham burp cloth as a backup. We had three. I was confident and secure. Then, I lost one a few months back in the mall. But I was all, "Ah, what's the big deal? That was the spare anyway! We have two more!"

Now, I can't seem to find the farkin' second pink gingham backup burp. I am in deep shit.

Don't get me wrong. I do try to offer up others as substitution. We have at least 30 different colored burp cloths. Purple, Green gingham, flowered burps, teddy covered burp cloths, plain white-with-spit-up-stained burp cloths, "Super Pink Burp cloths"...But I only have ONE, single, solitary pink burp cloth. The Queen of all the burps. "Pink Lady", the love of her life. The one and only.

It is filthy.

We take it everywhere, she sleeps with it. It has been dragged on the floor of home depot while we look for doors and doorbells to ring. It has been lost in Whole Foods where we had to backtrack down the aisles to find her. It/she has been stepped on, peed on, fed and wrapped around our heads. It is a mess. Fa won't let me wash it/her.

So, last night was the final straw that broke the burp cloths back. I stole it. I washed it. I dried it. Fa was not privy to my deceit. She looked all over the house for it though. We played "hide and seek" with it and pretended not to know where it/she was. We kept looking for it. All the while, I kept checking the load of laundry to see if it was ready yet. I sped up the spin cycle in the wash to quicken up the process and shorten her anxiety. I dried it with lightening quick speed and let it cool off for a millisecond before handing it back to her. She is smart, she knows the feel of 'just-dried burp cloth' and she doesn't like it. As she was watching Oswald on the couch, her before bed ritual, I handed it to her with a smile. She was none the wiser. I won that battle, but I surely didn't win the war.

What about next time?

Needless to say, I have a bid on "that wonderful online superstore" for the only pink gingham burps I can find in creation. Apparently, they are not being made anymore. I can't find them anywhere. I better win this bid. If anyone out there overbids me for these burps, I'll hunt you down, and chew your head off and piss down your neck. That, my friend is a warning.

I am desperate. I am in deep shit. I'll do anything for a pinkie. Hell, almost anything.

**Updated**
Some motherfucker just outbid me by 50 fucking cents. I'm going to find this prick sucking bitch and slap her with a burp cloth.
**Updated again**
Hmmm....very interesting coincidence.
**Updated and Overrated**
I am currently the highest bidder on the burpies. Seems to be a 'very familiar' name bidding against me in "Burpgate". I investigated and it seems with "friends like these, who needs enemies?'...stay tuned.

Chocolate, you cruel confection.

I hate you. I love you. I wish I could bathe in you daily. Go away. You are making me crazy. How do I enjoy you in small doses without slopping on 5 extra pounds? You are cruel, do you know that?

Now get out of here and don't come back. Wait, just one more bite.

No! Leave. Leave now. I hate you. Why do you do this to me? What have I ever done to deserve this treatment from you? All I want is some love and attention. And a little sliver of your tasty morsel now and again. Why do you tease me so and make me devour you uncontrollably, in chunks!

Just a taste and then be off...I can't bear to watch you walk out that door.

Goodbye my love. See you next year.

I curse therefore, I am.

So what?

But, Kate got me ta thinkin'. She is trying very hard to curb her colorful language and I think that's a great idea. For her. I see her points about cursing in front of the kids and I wish her all the luck in the world. I admire her for admitting she has to try to stop. I know it will be difficult because I have a mouth like a drunken, pirate hooker. I do. Big D thinks I do it to get a rise out of him. I really don't.

Some say it's a lack of vocabulary skills, I disagree. I have a fantastic vocabulary and I am a phenomenal speller (not typer).

Others would argue that foul language is a bad example for children. I can agree, somewhat. I mean I didn't curse at or in front of my past students and I try hard to curb my expletives in front of other people's kids. I slip up occasionally, but not usually. But, it's not my job to teach other kids how to curse...let their parents do it.

When I'm home or comfortable or just being 'me'. I swear, I curse, I use foul language. I do.

Fa hears it. I feel a tad bit bad for it, for a split-second. She is young and impressionable and hears Every-Thing! She repeats things. Then, we giggle. We igonore it. We say that Mommy says bad things and she shouldn't. But it's me, and I can't help it. And it really is funny to hear her say "R crapped in his crate again." or "We hafta throw my shit in the toilet."

When I am in public, she sometimes asks if she could "touch my bosoms" because we always say "Don't touch Ma' Bosoms!" when we are joking around. We laugh. I "bite her arse" and play "babbaloo on her bum". She breaks out in hysterics. We use 'funny' language as a tension release when she is tantrumming and I say; "Aw, cut the crap!" She cracks up.

When I'm mad I say, "oh shit" or "fuck!" or "Damnit to all that is hell" or even "Your mother's balls". When I am happy I say; "hell yeah" or "Hot damn" or "Wholly fuck" I have even been known to say; "Shit on my rake and call me Uncle" or "Slap my monkey and call him Shitburger" or my all time favorite "Balls"... We pee ourselves with hysterics. When someone cuts me off on the road, I call him an asshole or a prick. I may even give him the finger. Well, what else should I say? "Oh, snufflepuffs, you cut me off dear lad...I'm so sorry sir, was I in your way? I promise not to ever be in your lane ever again." (fucking shit head) That pisses me off. Oh wait, I'm sorry, That really burns my britches. Is that better? It may sound better to your average prude but I don't talk that way, and Fa will know the difference.

Cursing is so benign in the grand scheme of things. There are other worse things I could be doing. Crack comes to mind. Cursing lets us laugh and be silly. It helps to get out emotions. It lets each other know we mean business.

Admit it, home is where we can be ourselves. Fa has to learn that there is a time and a place for everything. This goes for kissing, hugging, arguing, cursing and even farting...another joy in life. She has to know that she can't call her teacher a fuckface just because she is one. Face it. When someone says "fuck you, fucker" it stings. Words hurt, curse words too. So she needs to be taught the acceptable platforms that allow you use such language. She needs to learn when and where to use these colorful words.

We learn to be polite, to hold back, to speak our minds. We learn not to pick our noses, we learn not to eat with our hands. We also should learn curse etiquette. I curse at home. I also use other ways to express joy, anger and sorrow. But cursing just feels good. I curb my tongue out of the house only because others have this mentality that 'cursing is bad' or 'cursing is evil' and I am raising the 'froo-its of evil' by cursing in front of her. C'mon. I learned when to curse (from my mother), so will she. My mother also taught me about "the birds an the bees" with a very cut and dry demeanor. That's for another post. Stay tuned.

Fa's only going to be 3 but she hasta learn some time. Should I wait until she's in school and some shitty kid is cursing at her and totally freaking her out? No, I'll arm her with some witty comebacks, good vocabulary and a little colorful language to spark things up and if any little prick decides to be mean, she'll put them right in their place. It will take trial and error. I'll probably get some phone calls from school. Then I'll meet with with principal and tell her that we do have alternative ways to express ourselves and Fa and I will work on them. And on my way out of the office I'll call her a douchebag under my breath. I truly believe that cursing is a way of life. My life especially. And if Fa decides she hates foul language, than more power to her.

We should embrace colorful words and let cursing be. The more we try to hide it, the more taboo it becomes and then Fa will really be looking for ways to use it. Now, I'm not going to be able to keep her away from all things taboo. I know that. And I surely wouldn't give her drugs or teach her how to inhale to show her the dangers of drug addiction. But, I will have to teach her about healthy choices and making smart decisions. Is cursing such a bad decision?

Oh, Fuck it!

"Taming the Beast" by Emily Maguire

I just finished reading it a few days ago. I'm not much for writing book reviews but I somehow feel compelled.

This novel is about a young girl who gets into irresponsible situations with men because her High School English teacher destroyed her innocence. He basically took advantage of her as a child by using literature as his weapon to seduce her. Then, he left her. While he was gone, she went into this "finding what she lost phase" with all of these different derelicts. Eight years later, the shithead teacher comes back to her, with new insight to his mental state. He quickly begins pulling her down into this torrent of sexual delinquency.

Throughout the entire book, you root for this damaged soul to escape from the life of sexual cruelty posed against her. She tries to escape, but just doesn't make it. What a disappointment. The ending of the book was such a let down that I almost cried. Not because she didn't make it out of that life, but because I don't know if she ever makes it out of there. I guess Ms. Maguire is either a fantastic writer or just missing something. I still can't figure it out. I wanted this female protagonist to emerge from her circumstance successful. I just don't know what happens to her. It just kind of ends right in the middle of her turmoil. Did I miss something? Am I supposed to create and alternate ending? Will there be a part two? I'm not sure.

The writing in this novel is rich and descriptive, almost to a fault. I mean, I really didn't need all that sexual detail...A little left to the imagination would be nice. True, I'm all for 'dirty books' and all and sexual content can be a treat. I am no prude, that's for sure. However, it was quite disturbing at most junctures in the book. The things she endured, Christ. It was unreal.

All in all it was a page turner. Which is why I was so disappointed in the end. I am sure however, that I will reach for another Emily Maguire book when I see it on the shelves. I am a sucker for a page turner. And I will continually hope that her other books have complete endings.

Interested?

Missing Putty

I loved my cat. He was 20 years old when he died and his name was "Putty". He became mine when I was 11. I have never felt a love like this for any other animal. He was a black beauty with fur as silky as a spider's web. His eyes were deeper than emerald. I loved my cat.

I remember when he was born. I lived in a town in Queens at the time but my parent's owned a home in a town in South New Jersey. We were there for the last weekend in October and I was very upset that I was missing Halloween with my friends. I wanted to be a ballerina with a bright pink tutu because I had just started dancing school. I liked to pretend I was a beautiful swan dancing on the stage for some fictional ballet company that I imagined I would own. My audience always threw the most beautiful bouquets of red and yellow roses. My other ballerina friends would be performing without me that weekend. My entire sixth grade world was ending.

In our NJ home, my dad called me into the room where "Momma Cat" was waiting patiently for her brood to be born. After three stillborn babies, there was Putty. He was so small you could fit him into a three year old's palm. His back was contorted as if he was twisted into a spiral and his black fur was wet with the remnants of his mother. He was the sole survivor. He was mine. I promised to care for him until the day I died.

My life changed that day. I was so sad for missing my universally brilliant performance of Swan Lake. However, my new baby was here. He needed me. I was to be his new mother because his birth mother denied him of her love. I felt on top of the world. There was not a standing ovation that could take the place of this event. But I was scared. I was needed by someone to keep alive. What if I failed? Could I ever forgive myself if I allowed this beautiful boy to die? I was on a mission of love. I fed him with an eyedropper. I rubbed his belly to help him digest when he was finished eating. I cleaned him until his fur sparkled like diamonds. He was mine. I was his. We needed each other then. We needed each other always.

After 20 years of loving Putty, I can not imagine how I could have survived my teens and twenties without him. He was there to comfort me. He heard me cry and complain. He shared my pain. He took part in the joys of my life and he will be a part of me forever. Putty was very old. His bones began to creak when he walked. He did not eat like he used to. He had renal failure and blood issues. He got tired and weak and some days he just was not the same.

Never did I think that missing Halloween that year would be the most important thing that could happen to me. I was selfish to think that my life was over for some make-believe fun. I guess that is being a sixth grader. I learned a valuable lesson that day. When circumstances are shuffled and priorities are changed, life seems unstable. Even as children we should learn to stop and take life as it comes. We may find something wonderful out of the mess that we thought was made. I did. I found Putty.

Happy 23rd birthday Pud. I miss you.

Nap times...few and far between!

What is happening here?

Since the big girl bed..which we all happen to adore by the way! Naps are harder to come by. Fa came across this new found freedom that she never new she had, up until just recently. I put her in her bed for a nap and then I leave her room. I peek through her key hole (this OLD house has those old-fashioned keys and keyholes) and she pops right out of bed to commence playing. It's truly hysterical. She lays in bed all nice and snugly and as soon as I click the door closed...she's off..How does she know to sneak like that? I didn't teach her that. Do girls just have this automatic gene that sneaks them out of bed without the parents looking? I'm in for it when she's a teenager, huh?

Well, when Fa doesn't nap she's "Godzilly". (that's what we used to call her when she was learning how to walk) She stomps and screams, whines and cries and spits fire throughout the house...Alright maybe not the fire thing, but you get the point. And when she naps, she goes down so late because she was too busy playing alone, in her room without Mom hovering overhead. I'm sure she loves that. But then, I have to wake her from her nap and soon after, get her ready for bath and bed. It's terrible. She's pissed if she naps and I have to wake her and she's pissed if she doesn't nap.

But hot Jesus in a snow suit, do I need a break. I need just an hour. Even day laborers get a lunch break, yes? I'm not complaining. Just trying to work out a system where we all benefit here.

So, I have been allowing her her 'quiet time' in her room. To play, read, relax, catch some z's. Whatever. It seems to work but she still has some issues at bed time. Can we all say 'Pissy Pants'?

How did you deal with losing the nap, when the time came? And then, how do you deal with the bedtime stall later at night?

10

Ten years ago today. Big D and I went on our first date. We went to dinner in the City and had a great time talking and laughing. He always makes me laugh...even today.

The Yankees were in the world series and I was oblivious. I was just wondering if there was food in my teeth and if I was babbling like an idiot at this totally cute guy. He kept leaving the table to go to the bathroom. I thought he had a bladder control issue. Turns out, he was checking the baseball score with his friends. The Yanks were winning the final game of the '96 world Series! After dinner, he admitted his sin. So like a good girl, (like a patient and understanding girl)...and so BD didn't have an aneurysm before the night was over, I suggested we go to a bar to watch them win the final game. He was ecstatic. I was happy for him, I just didn't want him to kiss me.

Ya see...I was gonna cancel the date that night because I was just not into it. But little did I know, he was gonna cancel the date that night because he wanted to watch the game with his friends. He's lucky he didn't cancel that frickin' date. He wouldn't have gotten another one.

Amazing how things turn out.

I love you BD.

Share the Love...blog style

Ms. Chicky-Chicky had this brilliant idea ( of course) that we should "spread the love" around this blogsphere...I agree! After all, I began blogging because there were a couple of fantastic blogs out there that motivated me to start my own. I have so many blogs in my blogroll that I read on a daily basis, and I add more every time someone recommends a new one. I truly don't know where to begin. And, there are a handful of blogs that I long to read...I check my bloglines regularly for these 'stars' and I go through serious withdrawals when they don't refresh fast enough...

However, I was instructed to be judicious in my selection!

On that note, the Blog I love, luv, luurrve, heart, seriously can't live without:

Mel: My very first Blogging friend! (And, she always leaves me warm, fuzzy comments too.) The way she loves her son and her husband is heartwarming. I just adore her blogging persona. She is sweet, caring, friendly and has the best family ever. They party like nobody's business! I love chatting with her and I love sharing advice with her. She truly has become a 'friend' from this thing we call the internet. I can't wait to meet her one day. Go say 'hi' to Mel and tell her I sent you. You rock Mel. Kiss that baby for me!

I'm so sorry that I couldn't include my entire Blogroll. (Most of you know I love you because I stalk you regularly! And I just started reading some of you and don't know enough about you yet.) I wish I could send you each a hug and tell you that I look forward to reading you every day.

Hell, I wish we could all have a slumber party and drink margaritas and tequila shots and play 'truth or dare'...that would be so much fun.

Ms. Chicky, this was a great idea.

Pssst...Over here!

I have a secret. Can you guess what it is?
I'll tell ya....

I'm not perfect.


I know, you can't believe it, right...Well, my friends...Believe it.
Sometimes I sit here and wonder how others haven't figured me out yet.

~I watch too much television. I could literally veg out in front of the tube for hours without flinching. I think it's a sickness...
~I sing out loud even though I can't. I think I sound like a rock star but it sounds so different in your ears than in reality...
~I'm a 'helicopter mom'. I am always hovering over Fa. I am afraid she's gonna eventually get sick of me. I see it in her face already, she looks at me like..."Moooooom! c'mon, I can do it myself." But, I'm afraid to let her go. She's my heart and I try to protect her from, let's see...everything.
~I should be spending more time with my husband. We haven't spent a whole lotta time together. I miss him. I hope he misses me too.
~I'm insecure. About, uhm, everything.
~I'm afraid of a whole crapload of different things. I can't even get started about that.
~I sleep too much. I love to sleep. I wish I could sleep more than I have been. I miss sleeping for hours at a time even in the middle of the day. I guess this makes me lazy.
~I haven't used my mind in such a long time and I'm getting nervous that I'll lose my mind if I don't use it. I miss reading for a purpose. I hated schoolwork but it gave me a feeling of accomplishment when I completed a project and got a good grade...

But I think it's time for being positive today:
~I have this daughter who adores me.
~I have this husband who (I think) does the same.
~The dog hasn't pooped or peed in his crate for 8 days straight.
~I can sit in front of the T.V. to watch my favorite shows and those fantastic reality shows, I'm a grown up, I can do what I want!
~If you don't like my singing...too bad. My daughter loves it!
~I am smart enough to realize that I have insecurities and imperfections and I work hard to change them or deal with them.
~All this thinking, is leading me to better things.
~I'm feeling pretty good about myself since detox and going to the gym regularly...BD noticed I lost weight!!!
~I get to be home with my little girl to help her grow up and watch her bloom into this precious 'flower'.
~Fa is loving "Mommy & Me"!!! She has a blast every class, she paints, plays, discovers new things like riding a tricycle by herself...She frickin' cries when it's time to leave. She says, "No, don't sing the 'goodbye song', sing the 'hello song'!!" and "I wanna stay here, can we please stay and play more?" I am ecstatic!
~I am liking "Mommy & Me" too...I adore spending the time with her in school and watching her have fun and not ALL the moms are arseholes.

How lucky am I?

10 Weird things...

I was Memmed! By this crazy, thumb-bending woman!~

I have way more than 10 weird things about me, but I'll try to condense my oddities to 10...

Here goes:

1. I'm afraid of the dark. Deathly afraid. I see things in my mind that are not normal when I am in the dark!

2. I love Noggin. It inspires me to be a better mother. Truly. It gives me fun ideas and makes me laugh. A happy Mom is a great Mom.

3. I love the smell of my daughter's feet. Especially after a long, hard day of playing in her sneakers.

4. I once broke all 10 of my toes doing a back handspring.

5. I am obsessed with feet. I always notice a person's feet. Not in a good way...It's not a fetish. They skeeve me out. Especially dirty feet or men's feet. I once broke up with a boy in High School because he took his sneakers off and he had no socks on. I was so grossed out, I broke up with his skanky feet that night. Flip Flops are a disgusting shoe and they should be banished from this earth. I hate my feet too. (I can imagine the Google searches from this one!)

6. I'm not the greatest "Domestic Engineer" out there. I'm a stay-at-home mom but I don't cook, I hate to clean and I don't do much else domestically. I just hang with my daughter and try to give her the best experiences I can...The house isn't my first priority. (BD is a great cook though!!!)

7. I sweat like a man. It's no secret in this house. I hafta use men's deodorant to stop the smell and wetness. Cute right?

8. I think I'm fat. People tell me it's not true, but I have always had a sort of "body image" issue. After Fa was born it came back, it effects me every day.

9. I hate playgroups. It makes me feel like I'm in High School all over again. I hated High School.

10. I never graduated High School. I got my G.E.D. after my mom passed away. (I was a grieving mess at 17.) However, I went back to school and got my Master's Degree in Education so I could teach children how important school actually is. I am very proud of that accomplishment and I plan to go for my PhD. in reading one of these days.

What's in my iPod? (M-W) (Nope, no X-Y-Z)

I hope you enjoyed my list of tunes. (and all the farking links) I'm sure you are barfing at some of them and laughing at more...but that's my musical taste and I'm stickin' to it...Seems all of the comments were quite positive with regards to the tunes here...I'm glad! And finally (thanks for sticking around):

Marilyn Manson: Antichrist Superstar
Matthew Sweet: Girlfriend
Meatloaf: Bat Out Of Hell
Megadeth: Countdown to Extinction
Monster Ballads
Mother Love Bone: Mother Love Bone
Mr. Big: Mr. Big, Bump Ahead, Lean Into It
Nelson: After the Rain
Nine Inch Nails: Broken, Pretty Hate Machine, Downward Spiral
Pink Floyd: Division Bell
Poison: Open Up & Say Ahh, Flesh & Blood
Prince: Purple Rain, Parade, Sign O' the Times
Prong: Cleansing
Queensryche: Operation Mindcrime, Promised Land, Greatest Hits
Quireboys: A Bit of What You Fancy
Ratt: Dancin' Undercover
REO Speedwagon: Hits
Rod Stewart: Vagabond Heart
Skid Row: Skid Row, Slave to the Grind
Slaughter: Stick it to Ya
Steve Vai: Passion & Warfare
Stryper: To Hell With the Devil
Temple of the Dog: Temple of the Dog
Tesla: Psychotic Supper
TNT: Tell No Tales, Intuition, Transistor
Tool: Undertow
Travis: The Man Who
Tyketto: Don't Come Easy
U2: The Best Of
Warrant: Dirty Rotten Filthy Stinkin' Rich, Cherry Pie
White Lion: Pride
Whitesnake: Whitesnake

What's in my iPod? (E-L)

Today's addition. Don't worry, only one more day of this...

Elizabeth Mitchell & Lisa Loeb: Catch the Moon
Extreme: Pornograffitti
Faster Pussycat: Faster Pussycat, Wake me When its Over
Filter: Short Bus, Title of Record
Firehouse: Firehouse
Fishbone: Truth & Soul
Garden State Soundtrack
Garbage: Garbage
George Michael: Listen Without Prejudice
Godsmack: Godsmack
Gravity Kills: Gravity Kills
Guns 'N Roses: Appetite for Destruction
Icon: Right Between the Eyes
Jack Johnson: Sing-Alongs Songs & Lullabies for the film Curious George
Janet Jackson: Janet
Jewel: Pieces of You, Spirit
Lisa Loeb & Nine Stories: Tails

What's in my iPod? (A-D)

So, Izzy is making a list of what's in her iPod and I said I'd do the same...I am posting this list in three sections (you'll get the rest Thursday and Friday) I can't handle all the posting/reading/linking in one day...And this isn't the way I wanted to do this list but I am a spaz and I couldn't figure out how to just post the album covers. iTunes alphabetized the list too.

Keep in mind, I own the Nano, not the gigunda-memory iPod that holds like a bajillion songs. My iPod holds something like 1,000 songs. I am very jealous by the way, that the new Nano is out and it has like, more space than I own CD's...There's gotta be a way to upgrade your out-of-coolness Nano for the new one. Right?

I don't want any snickering about the choices I have 'so carefully' made. Remember, I had to be judicious in the selection process, space is limited and I am almost out of space in the thing. I hope you enjoy this, here goes:

Alanis Morissette: Jagged Little Pill
Tori Amos: Little Earthquakes, Cornflake Girl
Bad English: Bad English
Black Crowes: Shake Your Money Maker, By Your side
Bon Jovi: Bon Jovi, Slippery When Wet, New Jersey
Candlebox: Candlebox
Cinderella: Long Cold Winter
ColdPlay: A Ruch of Blood to the Head, Parachutes, X&Y
Counting Crows: August & Everything After
The Cure: Wish
Cyprus Hill: Black Sunday
Damn Yankees: Damn Yankees
David Gray: White Ladder
Def Leppard: Pyromania
Depeche Mode: Singles '86-'98, Black Celebration, Songs of Faith & Devotion, Violator, Ultra, Playing the Angel
Dido: No Angel