mydarlingcurse.com

things have been a blur. seriously, how can it be the end of june? how? are fireworks really only a week away? this sucks.

you know how you have that one friend who swears by holistic stuff and extracts and nuts and shit? and how they get up at 5 AM and do their sun-salutations and use the neti pot and do the NY Times crossword puzzle and totally have their shit together?

yeah, i want to kick them in the chin too.

well, i am here to tell you that i will never be that friend. and while i’ve been up since pre-dawn all i’ve done is change a diaper, feed the shark, watch the psedo-albino guy deliver papers, balance the checkbook and play the same silly little twinkle song over and over and over to keep the buns happy and kicking away.

there should be no great accomplishments before 6 AM. none. i don’t care about time zones and what time you dentist appointment is. NOTHING should get done before 6 AM*.

all i want to do is sleep, sleep, sleep. but the buns is doing his little twinkle dance and it’s really cute - well all of it i can see between teary eyes yawns.

* the only exceptions to the 6 AM rule are saving lives or giving birth.

three months ago at six in the evening i was laying in a hospital bed making moon eyes over my new little boy. hard to believe. he’s is getting so big that my knees hurt when i stand up holding him, he’s gotta be damn near 15 pounds. and as much as i was crossing my fingers for a chubby baby he’s long like his big sister. and while he’s not the buddha he’s not all sinew like his sis. he has some chubb, but not enough to make him chubby.

he coos and laughs now and recognizes me and kicks his legs something fierce. he still eats like a shark, but thankfully he takes bottle and/or breast with little complaint.

he sleeps through the night and rarely cries.

and he’s cute, so cute!

i’m lucky.
we’re lucky.

you’re lucky too - don’t forget that. i’m sending some your way.

i stole that post title from the Loverly SIL because i’m too brain dead to come up with anything.

i’m little concerned with all the celeb deaths..sydney pollack, harvey korman, cyd charisse, bo diddley, tim russert and now george carlin. just seems weird, like too much at once, no?

we went to hubbin’s family reunion on sunday, and while it was good to see relatives from out of town, it stirred up some same-ole-same-ole family bullshit that i don’t discuss here. thankfully the whole thing makes me even more determined to be a better parent.

still some what lonely and sad. no family (on my side) and few friends. boo is getting her little bitch on, now using phrases like “Don’t TALK to me like that!” “I want my Daddy!” “NO! I WILL DO IT! I SAID I WILL DO IT!” she terrifies me at times and i want to cry.

i rarely discuss body issues here, but my softness and curviness are starting to weigh on me (pardon the pun).

and i HATE that i can’t do anything longer than five minutes without rushing to do something Mom.

Kung Fu Panda was a huge success. boo was thrilled when i picked her up from school and told her we were going to a movie. her jaw literally dropped, then she looked at me, looked at her teacher, looked at me again, “A Moooovie?” then she did a jumpy dance.

i told her we were going to see a movie about a panda bear and she said there is a panda movie at the movie studio. we bought our tickets and she looked at it and held it like she was charlie bucket. then she got popcorn and sat like a princess while she ate and giggled.

then when the going got really good in the movie, she found something so funny she actually shrieked and laughed out loud. the theatre wasn’t very crowded and lucky everyone there took it to heart that a little girl was thinking that this was The Best Movie EVER!

she scurried on my lap and laughed and giggled some more and by the final scene we both had the belly laughs. and i got the feeling that the people around were laughing and shaking their heads because she and i were having such a good time.

i love it when laughing at someone and laughing with someone are the same thing.

my daughter….
my daughter, my daughter, my daughter.

love dares you to care….isn’t that how the song goes?

my boo fell apart this morning. utterly and completely fell apart.
she spent, and this is no exaggeration, the Alaskan Poet is here to confirm it, she spent no less than an HOUR a full HOUR yelling and screaming and crying.

it.
was.
Horrible.

and i couldn’t help but flash forward ten years, her in her teens me in my late forties and i felt a little bad for her. no way am i going to be a hip late-forties kind of mom, no way! she’s screwed! but the yelling and screaming, that we’ll have down pat.

finally i got her packed in the car and at pre-school and on the way home after catching the last 10 seconds of Billy Idol, Queen’s Under Pressure came on and i almost wept. i hate it when she’s wound up like that and isn’t herself. i hate when my patience is at an end. i hate it when she doesn’t listen and cooperate and is punished.

i’m going to try to end the day right with Kung Fu Panda tonight, leave the men home to maintain while the gals repair themselves and each other.

there are times when people with children will swear that they put one kid to bed for a nap or the evening and they wake up with a completely different child.

i couldn’t put my finger on it, but today the buns changed. maybe his face got a little wider, he grew, or his soft spot closed, i just couldn’t figure it out. then we discovered a new game. a game where we put our foreheads together and he opens his mouth wide to gum my nose. he loves it, emitting a low tone sigh with a huge toothless grin. and it was during the course of this game that i figured it out.

his eyes aren’t newborn blue anymore, they are changing. they are darker and more green, i’d call them aqua, but not the horrid Miami Vice aqua, true aqua, the color of the ocean, that blue/green you wish would come through on your photos from vacation aqua.

and i just sat there stunned, warmed by baby love and thrilled that his eyes might turn green like his sisters, like his mothers. but i really want them to stay the color they were that moment i noticed with afternoon sun and the living room in the background.

i’m thrilled that all he does now is grow, but the time just goes by too fast.

in other news, the boo took her first dump on the toilet. i cannot tell you how happy i am to see the light at the end of the “oops, i crapped my pants” tunnel. the second she starts pooping on the toilet consistently and dressing herself, we got a whole new ball game here.

a few things about this past weekend, in no particular order…

- the death of Tim Russert - not only has this primary season changed history, not having Tim Russert cover the election is heartbreaking.

- we went to the cabin with my Dad and Annie Oakley…it was not fun.

- packing up shit for two kids and two adults requires the patience of a saint and a magic pill.

- upon arrival at the cabin, dealing with two squirrelly kids, schelpping all our crap i notice that the room we are to stay in is not prepared for our arrival.

- i also notice that Annie Oakley has taken up residence with my Dad, in my parents’ room, on my Mom’s side of the bed.

- i spend the weekend sulking, nursing, forcing smiles for my children and drinking as much as i can without appearing like i have a “problem”.

- coming home was the second best part of the weekend.

- the best part, and yes, i obviously saved the best for last, was seeing a picture of my Dad and boo. she got her first fishing pole for our trip to the cabin and natch Papa had to explain it to her and show her how to use it. my dad is an avid fisherman. hubbin got a great snap of the two of them with the pole and it’s priceless. didn’t make up for all the other shit that went on, but it’s a nice memory for him.

- i have come to the realization that my dad is not who i think he is. and that my darlings is troubling me greatly.

tuesday afternoon i pulled a three year old out of the middle of the street during rush hour. she lives across the road from us and most likely has fetal-alcohol syndrome. her mother was inside the house, doors shut tight. i brought the little toe-headed darling home with a heavy heart. she was more than three houses down from her own house. the family car stood in their driveway - a mini-van with driver’s side door and drivers passenger sliding door open.

“I’m glad you brought her back”, the bad mother said with all the emotion of receiving a stale potato.

“I’m glad she didn’t get hit by a car!” i practically shrieked.

then the bad mother then made some comment about how she’s not going to let the little one “play in the car again” since obviously she can “get out of her straps” whatever that means. i walked home quickly needing a drink.

i have yet to completely shake this incident off. i have a three year old. and i’d be mortifiedembarassedbesidemyselfintears if someone brought her home and told me she had been in the middle of the street halfway down the block. i’d kiss the ground her returner walked on! thank you thank you thank you for bringing my darling back. i didn’t get that from the bad mother AT ALL! which is chilling.

the truly frightening part is, is that this type of thing has happened at least once before. but that time the seven year old “older sister” chased after the three year old in the street and pulled her down. other neighbours who saw this incident said the three year old hit her head after being pulled by her big sister, then the bad dad came out and yelled at the three year old.

so after much deliberation, i called Child Protection and got some advice on what to do, not if but when, something like this happens again.

then yesterday i noticed the bad mother coming home, i’m watching her like a hawk now, and she got out and the seven year old got out and they both went into the house. i thought that the little three year old was at a sitters or with a sitter, but no. after over a full minute bad mom came about out of the house, pulled the three year old from the car and then they both went in.

when did it become ok to leave kids unattended in a car? i don’t even let my daughter play around the car when i’m standing right there. and it’s not like bad mom was schlepping in bags or something, she just left her out there.

my mom used to tell me that she wanted to wrap me up in cotton and keep me in her pocket, that way she knew i’d be safe. i thought this completely ridiculous. i kinda get it now.

i think i’m in for a long summer though with this fucking housewiferey, this stay-at-home-mom business. but now that i’ve incidentally saved the three year old, i feel protective of her. and i pray, utterly, that she is safe.

unfortunately, i had to get the crowes tickets through ticketbastard. the good thing about their $9.88 “handling fee” is that i got two songs from iTunes. lame that i’m excited about that, but still…

so i’m shopping around iTunes and i find some Magnet stuff that i had not heard and some live stuff that makes me tingle.

not sure how i feel about the “Zippity Do Dah” rift in the middle of my darling “My Darling Curse”, but at this point i will forgive my darling norse cowboy anything.