Bunny

This latest Bunny/Girl incident got me thinking.

I have told a few people about this but it hit me recently that Bunny is making herself known quite often these days. She is trying to tell me something. I know it. I know she's been around recently I have felt her close and I know I'm not losing my ever lovin' mind. I just wish I knew what she was trying to say. I hope it's just that she misses me too...

Girl knew who Bunny was way before I started talking about her. She met her for the first time (I know of) when she was about 16 (give or take) months old.

She was crying inconsolably late one night and I didn't know what else to do to make her stop. It had been going on for hours and Provider and I were both at a loss. Remember, Girl was colicky in the first few months of her life and I was so damaged by her incessant crying early on that when she finally grew out of it, I panicked every time she even welped a little...

Well, this wasn't a welp. It was full on screaming bloody murder. For hours. Upon hours. Until, I finally broke down and started crying right along with her.

We were sitting in her rocking chair. She was facing front and I was crying behind her. I was talking to Bunny in my head and asking her why she left me and how do I handle this and all that stuff you'd call your mother for at 2 in the morning when your kid is screaming...

After about 5 minutes, Girl started giggling. She broke out into fits of laughter. I'm talking screaming, crying one minute and in a split second later she changed to fits of giggles...

A warm feeling came over my neck and shoulders and all turned calm. Silent. I asked what Girl was laughing at and all she said through her laughter was "Bunny!"....

Through tears of mixed emotions; fear, joy, greif, sadness, helplessness...I realized my Mother came to us that night. When I needed her most, she was there to help.

And she's back again his month...I hope she stays longer this time...

Moms don't leave?

How do I convince my daughter of that when I am living proof that indeed some moms leave?

Schnuggling before a nap recently, she asked me if I loved my Mommy and Daddy. (Red flags raised..she never mentions my Mom even when I talk about her) Of course, I said yes. She continued to ask, "Who's your Daddy?" (She knows full well the answer to this since we play this game often enough) "Papa" I answered with a smile. Then, she asked a question that I knew was coming but it still totally threw me for a loop.

"Who's your Mommy?"

"Well, my Mommy is 'Bunny'." I replied stiffly, waiting for her next question that was inevitably coming.

"Where is Bunny? My grandma?"

Here we go....

In my head I'm screaming, "I'm not ready for this" repeatedly...over an over. "She's only 3 years and 5 months old! 41 months! How has this concept entered her head so soon? How do I answer her?" "She may not be too young to ask the questions but she is too young to comprehend the answers..."

I began to tell her that Bunny, her grandma, my Mommy is in Heaven. (A concept I'm not too sure of myself...but I was thrown and caught off guard.)

She asked me if I missed her and again, if I loved her and was I sad that she was not here?

How the hell does she do this?

I told her I do miss my Mommy terribly because she isn't here with me and I love her and I wish she was still here with us. I told her I was sad because she never got to meet her and I just know she would love her... the conversation went on for a few more minutes before The Girl told me "Not to worry because I'll make you feel better!" She said it to me. To my face. 3.5 years old. She even punctuated it with strong, neck-hugs! I am floored!

Then, she wouldn't let me leave her. She screamed bloody murder like I died a thousand deaths right in front of her, "Papa, Bunny, Mamma...Don't leave me!" "I'm scared you'll leave me!" "Mamma come back, don't leave me alone!"

Heartbreak.

Sheer shattered chest muscle.

You're not breathing, J. Breathe.

As I sat there rocking her close to my chest trying my damndest not to smother her with my kisses and trying even harder to convince her that I would never leave her and I will be her mommy forever...I felt guilty.

What if I do leave her?

What if I make her a motherless daughter?

I'm lying to her face.

How will she forgive me for telling her moms don't leave? When they do.

She is too young to be worried about this. She is too smart to not figure it out. She is too sensitive to forget this conversation any time soon.

I am sad that I have left her a legacy of loss and fear of being left alone by mother.

How could I do this to her?

How do I help her understand?

How do I rest her fears?

...Assure her that I am here for her...until she is older and better able to understand...that moms may leave this earth, but they can never be taken from your heart.

Thinking about....

Never thought I'd be saying this to my three year old...

Girl: Mamma, I like Weenie.

Me: I like Weenie too, baby girl.

*snort*

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There are some folks out there who seem a little shocked that I dig NIN as much as I do. Don't be. They are a phenomenal band and Trent Reznor is an amazing talent. I am a DIE HARD fan. That's why you should listen to them.

Pretty Hate Machine (1989) and Downward Spiral (1994) are my two favorites.

April 17th "Year Zero" debuted in stores. Check it out. Can't be disappointed.

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Dancing With the Stars. Love it. To pieces.
Apolo Anton Ono is the Cute-eest thing I have ever seen in my life.
And Joey Fatone is adorable.
I cry every time I watch Ratzenberger. He kills me. Too sweet.
Laila is gorgeous.
I want to be one of those professional women Ballroomers on that show. They are hawt!

Heather Mills...I can NOT believe you made it another week. Sympathy votes enabled you to beat Clyde the Glide. What a crock.

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Check out this post if you eat olives...(I do) Apparently, the FDA has recalled some olives tainted with bacteria. Yum.

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Uhm. Yum. I Will have one this weekend. I pray.

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Took Art to the vet the other day for his 'One Year Well Baby' visit. Unfortunately, it looks like he's healthy as a horse and it seems he'll be part of the family for at least a good 15 years. Damnit to hell. My cabinets are in for it. And so is my sanity.

Don't cry Art, Girl loves you.

Farfallina's thoughts...

"Can we go someplace special?"

Watching Lady and the Tramp: "I love when Tramp say-s that."

"I love kissing Dog on the lips."

"I'm gonna stick my finger in Dog's Ass!"

"I wanna dance naked!"

"I'm pissed-off that Grandma doesn't have Noggin."

"I don't want to eat, I want a snack."

"Mommy, I was very cooperative in the store."

"Can I talk to someone on the phone?"

"Look at all the snow on the ground that I can go out and play with in the front yard!"

"I have to poop, I'll be behind the couch. Don't come in, I need privacy."

"That dog is a schmuck!"

"Good night Mommy, see you bright and early in the morning!"

"You're so smart Mom because you know everything."

...and my all time favorites...

"I love you forever Mommy!"

"You're my best friend forever."

"I love being three..."

No, Thank You.

Since SF has been testing her newest level of limits, and taking her medicine every day she seems to be in better spirits. She has started smiling again, singing and dancing and even being polite.

I haven't had to put my foot down as hard as I thought. I knew something was wrong. She's an easy going kid. I new she was just off. It wasn't really all about her age...so far.

I also think she's getting bored. Since Valentine's day we haven't really done much. The weather being the way that it is (frickin' freezing), and school and gym being on vacation has kept us homebound more than any hermit would like to admit.

Yesterday, was a great day. She was funny, sincere and even more 'huggy'. I asked her why she was hugging me so much and she said simply, "Because I want to!" She kept telling me she loves me and that we are best friend forever...Oh! I could die right now a happy woman! It was fantastic.

We ran an errand that I needed to get done and went to lunch at a local bagel store. She ate most of her lunch and was so well behaved. She sat like a big girl, chose her own drink and basically made it fun. I thanked her for the fun lunch and for being so cooperative in the store while I did my business. And I also told her I was happy to hear her use her 'please' and 'thank you's' again. (The other day, I told her I was very disappointed that she seemed to loose her 'please' and 'thank you's' and I was hoping she'd find them soon.)

We went home and she napped like a champ. (Another thing that hasn't been regular lately) I know when I don't nap, I'm a bitch on wheels.

As we are coloring in the living room, she turns to me and says, "Mommy, I found my 'Please' and 'thank you's' and I put them back in my mouth!"

I replied, "I know wonderful girl, I am so happy you found them! Where do you think they could have been?"

"Hiding in the bushes!"

I gotta check there more often for lost items...

Monday Miscellany

We went food shopping as a 'family' yesterday.

Fa was acting up. As usual lately.

BD says, "I hate to say this to you, but when we are together alone, she NEVER does this!"

Great!

Why is she much more temperamental and argumentative when I'm around lately?

Why are we bickering more?

Why doesn't she want to hug me as much as she used to?

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Some funny things BD said this weekend:

"You haven't lived until you've had Dog's Leather Starfish resting on your bare leg."

"I have a new name for you...Goose tits."
****Updated to add**** We come up with silly names for each other on a daily basis...'Goose tits' just happened to be this week's name...

"I can't believe you don't have mice living under Fa's car seat!"

"You know, you can sweep the floors once in a while, it won't kill ya."

"I thought Smokey Robinson was dead, Oh wait..he is. Look they have him propped up with two 2x4's."

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Let's try the cats again...

Cat listening to Stevie Wonder












Cat listening to HOUSE music












Cats listening to Metal












Cat listening to Hip Hop












Cat listening to GANGSTA RAP












Cat listening to Techno(on Ecstasy)

If I were stranded on a desert island...

RWA did a post about his favorite songs. I am trying to do one too. It is harder than I thought.

I love music, all kinds from rock to rap to classical. It is very difficult to just gather a few snippets especially when you like catalogs and catalogs of songs from all different bands. There are a few bands that are missing from my list, but I can't just pick one song from their library...So, in order to keep it short(er) and sweet(er)...here are the one's that stand out in my head when I think of "favorites".

Blood Pumpin' Tunes:

Bring the Noise Public Enemy, especially the one with Anthrax
I love the beginning: 'Bass, how low can you go?...'

Kinda I Want To Nine Inch Nails
Really anything from NIN but this one is attached to some great memories.

In Your Eyes Icon
To this day, I get goosebumps. The way Jerry Harrison sings "I think about the things that I've done wrong.." Chills I tell ya.

Angel With the Scabbed Wings Marilyn Manson
Gets my blood pumpin'. I love the drums in this one.

Symphony of Destruction Megadeth
This song always gets me going. I love the heaviness of the guitars.

Speak Queensryche
Anything from this band too..but this is the song that turned me on to them.

Mellow Tunes:

Across the Universe The Beatles.
There are too many to just pick one, but this one always gives me chills.

Grace U2 'It's the name for a girl, and it's also a thought that can change the world.'
C'mon, can't get better than that.

Fix You Coldplay
Who doesn't want to be fixed?

I Can't Make You Love Me Bonnie Raitt
I have always loved this song...I guess it's that unrequited love theme that gets me.

Lights Journey
This song captivated me and got me to learn all I could about the 'city by the bay'. Then I went to San Fran and fell deeper in love...

This is Shangrila Mother Love Bone
I am so in love with Andrew Wood. What a young life wasted. And it also brought about Temple of the Dog and Soundgarden..Two more of my faves too.

How Soon is Now The Smiths
Mesmerizing. Always love it. Then, I married a Smiths Freak!

Take it Back Pink Floyd
Just one of the many Floyd songs I love...this one brings me good memories.

Flowers in the Window Travis
Always makes me smile...

Catch the Moon Elizabeth Mitchell
Fa's favorite so of course, I cry whenever I hear it.

Too many to pick just one:

In Your Room Depeche Mode
Another band I totally love. You really can't eat just one.

The End The Doors
Love the speaking parts..."Mother, I want to..."

Rocket Queen Guns and Roses
Love the chorus of this song, always have.

Alone Lisa Loeb
A good mix of easy listenin' and Rockin' and Rollin'. Love her.

Addicted to That Rush Mr. Big
My all time favorite band...So name it, I love it. This is a nice taste of their style.

As Far as the Eye Can See TNT
Another all time Favorite...But I love When Tony Harnell sings "If your eyes could see what you mean to me..."

So, that's pretty much it in the smallest nutshell I could find.

What about you?
What songs would you totally need if you were stranded on a desert island?

Here's a question...

Thank you everyone for commenting on this one! I really still don't know what to do. And it seems you are all split on your decisions as well. Some of you are all for it while others are all for the privacy thing. At least you have helped me see that I am not the only one who thinks of these things. God, I love my internet friends.

I think I'm going to give BD his privacy and let Fa know that Mommies and Daughters can be in the bathroom together and Daddies and daughters don't. Unless it's inevitable...Ugh. Whatever. Everyone pees and poops right?
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Do any of you let your daughters watch your husbands pee?

I know. Get to the point. But BD and I have been questioning each other on what we believe. We are in agreement so I guess I am really questioning myself.

Fa cries whenever he goes into the bathroom. She watches me in there do just about everything so she wants to watch her dad too. But I say no. And so does he.

But, if she's gonna learn about pottying, shouldn't she see 'both sides'? It is a healthy part of life and everyone does it. I just think it's a little weird for her to see her dad's hay nanny nanny dangling in the breeze, no?

We are in a quandary. I don't want her to cry when he goes, I think it sends her the wrong message when he closes her out. I don't want her to think its a bad thing and I don't want her questioning in her three year old brain why Daddy is 'different' and she can't watch. Then again, I don't think she should see his thang hang. That might scar her for life....

Boys don't sit to pee so why should he? Or do they? If she sees that will THAT be sending the wrong message too?

Or should she just get over it and learn that Mommy's and daughter's do things like that together and Daughter's and Daddy's don't? Mommy's teach girls about pottying and Daddy's teach boys? I don't know.

I guess I grew up in a pretty liberal home. Dad walked around in his skivvies all the time. It was nothing to me. I saw him 'sitting' on the pot and all. And I was always in the bathroom with my Mother. So, that sort of stuff doesn't phase me. But BD grew up differently. His parents were quite secretive about bathroom habits. It was a private affair and something left for 'your eyes only'.

I never thought about it until this week when I noticed F crying every time BD locked her out of the bathroom. What to do?

Do you let your opposite sex children watch your bathroom habits?

Her hands are small, I know...

I was looking at F's hands the other day. I have always been fascinated by them. They are so small and perfect. When she was a newborn, I used to stare endlessly at her pinky nail. It was so tiny, yet so perfect. How did that happen? I will always be amazed, even as they grow.

Then, I thought about my mother's hands. I always loved her hands too. Strong and always manicured with colored nail polish. They held me with tender care but threatened when I misbehaved. They absorbed all my pain in one, fleeting touch, yet stood powerful in the face of danger.

As I was watching F play, I looked at my own hands helping her adjust a toy to her specifics. I remember when they were kid's hands. Small and soft. Like F's are now. I was always embarrassed by them because I bit my nails. So I made a New Year's Resolution when I was about 9 years old to stop. And I did. Now, I make sure they are manicured most of the time...But Mommyhood has a way with them. I only hope I can use them with tenderness for F like my Mother used them for me.

It makes me wonder, how my Mother kept her hands so soft all the time. She was a Stay-at-Home Mom (like me) with a penchant for cleanliness (uhm, not like me) so her hands must have been in water a lot. But they were indeed smooth and soft and caring.

I wonder if F will examine my hands like I examined my mother's? I wonder if she will think the same things of us as we grow together? I used to be attached to my Mother. We were together all the time, a lot like F and myself. So I was always watching her and analyzing the things she said and did. I took notes and use them to this day on myself about how a Mother should be.

Our hands may not be exactly the same but they serve the same purpose. They caress, they love and they discipline all in a split second. A daughter's hands become a mother's hands and a mother's hands become a grandmother's hands. They may not be together in the flesh but they are connected forever by reverence. Heart and soul connects us in spirit and our hands connect us with a single stroke. Forever.

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.

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.

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.
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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.

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.

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.

I've Graduated/Wanted: A Hobby

It seems my therapist has given me the option to Graduate from her services...for the time being. (What is she thinking?) I took the option and celebrated my 'freedom' from therapy for a while. So as of today, I'm therapy free. Not sure how to take that. Am I happy, relieved, scared, sad? I always have the option to go back if needed. So that's that.

Refreshed. Yes. Refreshed. I feel good. Haaay! da da da da da...I knew that I would..da da da da da da da (Thanks to Detox and Unda 18) and I am cautiously optimistic that I have this thing called life together...for now. (BD might like to add a few side comments here...but he can do that in his own blog if he wants.)

I'm trying to find some new hobbies aside from shit and diapers and detox. I met a new 'friend' over at Matching Moms and she goes Salsa dancing with her man. I am so jealous. I wanna go Salsa dancing with my man. But we tried that once already. I forced BD to go to to dance lessons before we got married because I was NOT about to have my new husband not want to dance with me...he joked around the entire time. We got nothing done during the hour long lesson. I'm sure the instructor was more than pleased that we never went back. So now, I need a new hobby. When I was young, it was roller skating and stickers, then it was dancing and boys, now its poop. Great right? I gotta get a life.

I'm going out with my Aunt, cousins and Best Friend tomorrow night. That will be a whole other post. I am excited. I plan on drinking a few Margaritas and eating something other than chicken and rice...then I plan on (air quotes) 'overload detox' with Vitamin B and Magnesium to get the bad out from the night out. I hafta see the holistic therapist on Monday, so I hafta be clean otherwise all this week was in vain.

What am I gonna wear? Should I wear high heels or low ones? Are we gonna do a lot of walking? Low heels. Are we gonna use a car? High heels. Can I fit into my skinny jeans? Will I wear a bra or not? Yup, bra is a must? Unless, slappin' someone in the head with a boob is an option, a bra is a necessity. I hope I fit into my skinny jeans. I have been hardly eating...jeez, I can't lose this baby weight watching Flavor of Love that's fo sho.

Is my therapist sure about this graduation?