Saturday, April 24, 2010

Of Clubbing, Dancing, and other Foolishness

Maybe I'm a strange woman, but there is one thing I do that I know is normal. I dance. I don't just dance, i DANCE. I own the floor, whether people like it or not. And I'm cool with that. Dancing is one of those amazing things that makes me go "ah, I am still attractive. The general male population... and maybe some girls... thinks I'm attractive. Yesssss."

Ok Internet, feel free to point and laugh.

So a friend had a birthday yesterday. And being as smart as I am, I thought 'well, this should be fun. I haven't been clubbing in ages." We were smart though. We went to this wonderful brazilian grill first. Tucano's. AMAZING. Holy shit, I can't even describe how amazing they were.

Afterwards, we drop the car off at the hotel, and walk our little butts over to the club. And we dance. And dance. And dance. And drink drink drink.

1 Mike's, 2 spider bites, 1 penny drop, 1 buttery nipple, and 1 red headed slut later... try walking a straight line. I dare you. And when my DD for beef jerky got pulled over?

The cop looks at me and goes "Ma'am, have you been drinking?"
"Ohhhhh yesssss."
"Can I see your ID?"
"Really? I still look that young? You GOT it baby!"

Thursday, April 22, 2010

Abortion and Rights... GAH

I have had some wonderful debates lately. And all of them center around two words. Reproductive Rights.

It's a hot issue. On a logical level, I can't really understand why. But on an emotional one? I get it. Abortion. The big bad. The BIG issue with so many people. You see it all the time. Innocent children being murdered! Sluts not keeping their legs closed and using it as birth control! Blah blah blah.

And it doesn't seem to matter what you say to those people. In some cases, they don't even care if you were raped or not. They don't care if it could kill you to carry to viability. The fact of the matter is, they place that fetus above you. You are nothing, just a vessel to carry that "innocent child".

Never mind that it doesn't have higher brain function until what, around 20 weeks? Never mind that the earliest a fetus has shown a pain response is 23 weeks. If someone thinks a child is alive at conception, FINE. Believe that. But stop pushing your agendas, and your beliefs, down my throat. Stop trying to tell me that I have to risk my health, my body, and my mental health for YOUR idealogy.

And this concept that men should be able to keep a woman from aborting? PUH-LEASE. What they seem to forget is that it is a two way street. If you want the father to be able to keep the mum from aborting, then what is to keep him from MAKING her get an abortion? If you allow one, then you have to allow the other.

And they just don't see that. ON PURPOSE. It's downright odd. Downright shameful. Humanity is downright stupid at times.

/end rant

Monday, April 19, 2010

A Sad Day

Today... there is no picture. Because today, I am shocked and appalled at the behavior of some so-called "adults" in California. This is the link to what I am speaking of.

And now I shall pull out some quotes for you.

"Clay and his partner of 20 years, Harold, lived in California. Clay and Harold made diligent efforts to protect their legal rights, and had their legal paperwork in place—wills, powers of attorney, and medical directives, all naming each other. Harold was 88 years old and in frail medical condition, but still living at home with Clay, 77, who was in good health.

One evening, Harold fell down the front steps of their home and was taken to the hospital. Based on their medical directives alone, Clay should have been consulted in Harold’s care from the first moment. Tragically, county and health care workers instead refused to allow Clay to see Harold in the hospital. The county then ultimately went one step further by isolating the couple from each other, placing the men in separate nursing homes."

Does this seem American? Does this seem DECENT to anyone? That two people who truly love each other are not only denied visitation rights, but then ISOLATED during the last few precious months? Does that seem at all right?

How can those people sleep at night? How can they DARE to judge anyone to such an extent?

It is cruel of me... but I hope they all get shot in the knees. TWICE.

Sunday, April 18, 2010

Dogs Dogs Dogs

My English Mastiff, Hercules and my son.

It occurred to me today that I am a dog lover. Actually, I'm an animal lover in general, but I truly do love dogs. I LOVE DOGS. There, I have made it abundantly clear.

In recent weeks, there has been article after article about dog attacks. Mostly pitbulls. And I find myself growing increasingly angry. Not at the dogs, but at the people and owners around them.

A healthy and stable dog, regardless of breed, does not hurt people. And a dog cannot be healthy and stable without a good pack leader. Being that pack leader requires the ability to be patient, calm, assertive, and disciplined. More and more, I find that people are lacking in this.

And then they wonder why dogs go nuts.

Pitbulls are NOT an evil breed. They are not any more likely to 'go bad' than a rottie, or a mastiff, or a pomeranian. It is the OWNERS, and the people around them, that teach them whether violence is alright or not. It is the way they are treated that makes them liable to bite.

And the reason I can say this will all certainty? This man below. Cesar and his recently deceased dog, Daddy.

Daddy and Cesar Millan

Daddy is the kind of dog that I would trust with my kids every day, all day. He was kind, he was caring, and he was able to be calm around even unstable dogs. To give the energy needed to calm others down.

He was a rare dog in that he was fortunate enough to have a pack leader, an owner, that cared not only about feeding and watering, but truly giving him what he needed!

So when I read about how pitbulls are evil and breed specific laws are necessary, I cry inside. For every bad pitbull out there, there are hundreds that are amazing family dogs. For every story of a mauling or an attack, there are hundreds of that breed which have never in all their lives shown aggression. Breed specific laws do not work.

If we make it illegal to have a pitbull in a state... guess what? That state will see more statistics on other dogs. Labradors, Mastiffs, Pomeranians, Dachschunds. More breeds of dogs will step up to take the spotlight.

The problem is not the dog. It is people.

Daddy and a newcomer to Cesar's pack, Junior.


Friday, April 16, 2010

Baths and Showers

What is this? We're going to talk about baths and showers today? Mom, don't you realize that's a private thing? You know, personal?

I do, actually. Which is why there are no BATH pictures up here. SEE!? All you internet folks that like to judge parents? IT'S G RATED. SO THERE!

You see, I was reading CNN today, and they were talking about child video clips that go viral on Youtube. A lot of folks were going on about how that was bad for the kids, and yada yada yada.
But someone brought up a good point.
Do you remember a little over 10 years ago? You know, when DVD's weren't too popular yet, but America's Funniest Home Videos was AWESOME?

Why didn't we hear all this hub-bub about child endangerment then? Why didn't we see people screaming about how parents were using their kids to get famous THEN? You know, when people were trying to win prizes for EMBARRASSING clips about their kids? I still remember seeing people do REALLY stupid stuff. And you know what? It was all in good fun. There was very little judgement in that at all.

But now that it is on the Internet? OH NOES.

Moving on. Baths. Yes.

I had to give the baby a bath today. A baby with eczema. WOO. He loves the tub, don't get me wrong. But I HATE how his skin gets after bathtime. I can lather him up in lotion, and he still feels scaly. How it doesn't bother him, I'll never know.

What I do know is that he has the most awesome hairdos ever after bathtime. I do know that he loves getting soaped up. He loves getting his hair washed. He loves to try to splash water at my face.

And the pain of bathtime is all worth it when he smiles and laughs. I can look at that little chubby face and see pure joy.

Total mom moment. I have them too.

Thursday, April 15, 2010

Vaccinations and Spaghetti

It is entirely possible that the key to happiness is spaghetti and meatballs. I can hear it now. There are going to be some hardcore folks out there saying "He can't possibly be eating that already." OH yes, my little chubby man can definitely eat it. If it's mashed up, he can eat it. And he WILL. He chews (although technically it's gumming to death, but you get the picture), he swallows. And the next day, he poops.

He also doesn't take it easy on food. This boy gets very uppity about being fed at just the right pace. He's been known to eat until there is no more food... and then he glares. Because you know, it's all my fault that the food is gone. I should be telling the food makers to put more in those damned jars. I should be making it myself!

I don't altogether disagree with that last bit, by the way.

But as I was saying. Spaghetti. Meatballs. Happiness. Keys. Yes! The reason I say all this is because of vaccinations. You know, those things you get through sharp pointy objects? The ones that have been known to make me fall flat on my face?

Tristan was a month late, of course, since we went on vacation in March. He was fine with getting naked. He was fine with his genitals being manhandled by the doctor who was making sure that the testicles were alright. He was fine with getting poked, and prodded. But good god, those shots.

I have never heard him cry that loud in my life. Not only did he cry, and scream, but he let loose those big fat tears that make you feel like the ultimate piece of scum on this planet.

On went the bandages, and off we went. By the time we got home, he was out cold. AND STILL SNIFFLING. But I give him mad props. As soon as I picked him up after the shots, he cut off mid cry. And sniffled. He played up the miserable act, and me being the sucker of a mom that I am, I ate it up. Coo coo baby. Coo coo.

Naturally, upon waking this little buddha of mine decided he was hungry. And he was hungry NOW damnit. A bottle got fed... and that wasn't enough. So into the bebe pod he went. On went the tray and the bib. And then he proceeded to eat. And eat. And eat.

I dread the day when he actually eats real solid food. My grocery bills are going to go from bad... to nightmarish. Still.. look at that face. Totally worth it.

Wednesday, April 14, 2010

Irritation Agitation Stipulation Wha?

As you all can probably imagine, the above was a little irritating. No, not painful. I'm serious. It really wasn't that painful. Except in two places, but over all, I was able to sleep through the whole thing. And that day, I felt GREAT. I was on an Endorphin high.

Enter the next day. Eh, a little stiff, but not bad. And it stayed that way for a few days.

But as of last night? As of April 13th 2010? I wanted to go mad. Talk about ITCHING. Good god! I'd catch myself reaching back, and sit on my hands. I went to bed, and found myself trying to rub against the pillows to relieve it.

And this morning? It's STILL THERE. GAH!

Moving on.

In other news, we took the baby to get his check up today. Never fear, the happy buddha baby is in perfect health. His development is "perfect". His growth is "perfect."
As in, he now weighs 19.6 lbs, and is 27.5 inches long.

This is after being born at 6.11 lbs, and 22.5 inches long. 7 months, and he's HUGE.

It could be worse, I suppose. He could be obese. Because according to some insurance companies, babies who gain weight too fast are obese. I KID YOU NOT. Jeesh. As if we don't have enough trouble in the world, now we need insurance companies saying whether a baby grows too fast!

Reality check, anyone?

Tuesday, April 13, 2010

Beginning the Translations

I am fairly new to this whole... blogging thing. But it occured to me, after reading multiple blogs across the web, that a blog could be fairly therapeutic. Allowing a person to spew out thoughts and daily events? Without worrying that the internet itself will go "Shut up Erica, you know nothing! NOTHING!!!"

Ahem. Moving on.

It is entirely possible that I have lost my mind. I'm sure that all mothers have lost their minds at some point. I know that I couldn't possibly be as crazy as some others, right? RIGHT? Right. My craziness didn't actually start until my daughter was turning five. FIVE. I survived FIVE YEARS with my sanity relatively intact. That has to be a record.

But the tipping point? Two words. Medical-Retirement. Yep. You see, up until November 23rd of 2009, I had a full time job. A job that could make me work anywhere from 40 hours a week to 80+. It was hectic, it was hair-grabbingly insane at times... but it was a job. It gave me a break from husband and child.

And then... oooh boy. September 16 2009, Baby #2 arrives. He's gorgeous. He's adorable. But it does NOT change the fact that this makes TWO children. While I'm alone... because TADA, the military has sent my husband to Korea. Ooooh the possibilities. And in November, TADA... I'm medically retired due to BAD asthma.

I thought "Gee, this shouldn't be so bad." And then BAM. No sleep. Just me. No sleep again. Just me again. WOW, I didn't realize that going to the store could take over an hour just to LEAVE THE EFFIN HOUSE.

/ end hyperventilation

But you know what? Despite the craziness, and how freakin complicated it is? I am actually... le gasp... beginning to enjoy myself. There was something I missed while working full time. I missed the day to day developments. I missed raising my child the way I wanted her raised... and now I have a second chance. I can begin to imprint my knowledge (when my brain works) upon my children, and know that everything they are is because of MY influence. The Good, the Bad, and the Embarrassing.

Because there isn't quite anything so embarrassing as your five year old daughter hollering at passers-by in the mall "My mommy feeds my baby brother from her BOOBS."

Thanks Bree-ball.