Saturday, March 31, 2012

The Addict

"My name is Alice, and I am an addict." 
A pacifier addict.

2 mos old working a 6mo size paci. 

My child's first love, since day two in the hospital, is THE PACI. Lady Baby would rather have the paci than food, water, or air. After several well fought battles, we officially won the war of keeping all paci's in the crib. Unless she is sick. Or we are on a long car trip. Other than that, only in the crib. Except for during hub's marathon when she smuggled it out of the car and I was so tired from getting up at 5 am I just let her have it. But all other times, crib only. This has lead to a new phenomenon that happens multiple times a day in our home. Fake sleeping while lying on the floor on one's blankie, sucking the paci. Here is the situation: Lady Baby, being a stealthy little honey badger, sneaks into her room and grabs one of her one-true-loves out of bed, lays on the floor on her stomach with her face buried in her blankie, and enjoys criminal paci time. If she is feeling especially brave, she will bring the paci back out into the den and fake sleep there, so she can watch TV while doing it. Evil. Genius. When I realize it is awfully quiet for a house with a two year old, I usually find her laying on the couch. As soon as I walk in she clamps the little eyeballs shut and fake snores. Yes, she fake snores. It's like living with Lucille Ball if she were a sassy toddler with control issues.Then begins the struggle of getting the paci put back into it's rightful daytime spot. My first effort is always to make her go put it in her crib herself. There is counting, there is threatening. Then comes her efforts at keeping it in her possession. This stage involves running, screeching, and laying on top of the paci with it clutched in a death grip. As if I can't pick her up and wrench it out of her hand. Which I have done so many times I cannot count. Usually she prefers to put it back in her crib herself (control freak, much?) and her favorite is to fake sneeze it back in (again with the Lucille Ball comedy). But that can only happen after she has tried to dodge the law and make a quick and screaming getaway. I have learned to stay strong and make her put it away. Otherwise it becomes tomorrow's problem. I did that 67 times over the summer and it was a nightmare. Lesson learned. Sticking to my mommy guns may not be easier now, but it makes the long run so much less painful.

daytime paci love
Last week, I was taking care of a friend's little one year old boy. The sweetest little dude, he lets Alice rip toys out of his hand with a little baby shrug and finds something else to play with. In no way was he bothering her, except for  touching her stuff. However, anyone who has been around a two year old for 7.6 minutes knows that that is an offense of epic proportions.  Therefore, this particular day she was really rocking her "mine mine mine" battle cry. Finally exhausted of defending her landfill toys made in china from the world's sweetest child, she decided she had enough and wanted to be alone. In her crib. She actually asked me to put her in her bed. I assumed she was sleepy and annoyed that there was another little chick running around getting my attention, so I complied. I quickly realized she just wanted paci time. Which she enjoyed for about half an hour. It was the equivalent of a housewife hiding in the closet drinking vodka because life is just. too. much. She would rather lay there with her paci than play, watch TV, or be social. Addicted. 

I am starting to wonder when enough is enough. When is too old for the beloved paci and when is it time to think about teeth, etc? 

stolen moments with her true love.
Not sure how or when we are going to break her of her addiction, but I fear it is going to be painful for all involved. I foresee crying, begging, and big time baby-anger. I will keep y'all updated when we finally pull the plug. As Lady Baby would say, "Scarry Spiders." We are open to suggestions. Paci fairy? Mail it to a baby? Pretend all pacifier's have fallen of the face of the earth and no longer exist anywhere? I don't know what is the right and or easy way to go. I do know that whatever happens, we will be lucky to make it out all in one piece. 

Wednesday, March 21, 2012

Excuses, Excuses.

I have been an absentee blogger, and for that I do apologize. I have started a few posts but cannot seem to find the time to finish them and polish them up for y'all.
Here is what I have been up to in a brief list. Some things I will be posting on in a fuller fashion in coming weeks. Other things are really not anything anyone wants to hear more about, but I feel that I have to justify why I have been slacking cleaning the old Lint Trap. We don't want my dryer/brain to catch a fire.

1. I am working like crazy. Changing things up and moving things around. More on this later. At the rate I am going, much later.

2. The hubs ran a marathon last weekend and 
Lady Baby and I got to spend last Saturday morning hurrying up and waiting to see him run by. In the rain. Actually, more like the mist. It was Running Dada in the Mist. He did great and we are oh so proud. As I feared, he now wants to run more marathons. Goodbye relaxing Saturday mornings for-ev-er. I am also going to have to up the butter content of his food. We are dangerously close to resembling a family made up of a tooth pick, an olive, and a peanut.

3. I am listening to the band Fun. obsessively. I am not sure if this is teeny bopper or not, but me no care. I heart them and their catchy jigs. Do your ears a favor and listen here: Mama's Jams.  They are literally, fun. I am assuming that is how they got their name. Descriptive and succinct.
 Related: I wish we could all just go by the adjective that describes us. Henceforth you may call me awesome. (to be pronounced awesome period)

4. We are in the beginning stages of potty training Her Highness. I promised my bestie that I would never discuss the pooping or peeing on the Facebook, but she never thought to make me promise that I would refrain here. Therefore, there may or may not be several posts on trying to bribe/trick/ cajole/ convince a stubborn Priss that the potty is her friend. This has already proved trying on my nerves. Yesterday, 10 minutes before we needed to leave for preschool, she decided it was time for a potty break. I dared to attempt to help her up the step stool to sit on her throne and she screamed "NO MOMMEEEEYYY I DO IT MYSEF" with such vehemence she peed on the floor. This is just a brief snapshot of what this uphill battle will be like.

5. I just found a half a Xanax in my peanut butter jar. Actually I was spreading hubs sandwich (cause he's five and gets a pbj and fruit snacks in his lunch box) and there it was. The only person/being in our house with an Rx for Xannys is our dog. She has a wee bit of an anxiety problem and we give her a milligram and a half every time there are fireworks. Or storms. Or it rains. All I can figure is when I gave her some for a thunderstorm last night somehow I got it in there. This obviously has not interfered with my blogging, but it was so bizarre I feel that I should share it. I wanted to make this an example of the weird things that happen to me. 
(note: I know that is a lot of Xanax. Don't freak out. Dogs metabolize it differently.)

6. It is really warm and sunny and pretty much spring here. Therefore anytime not spent sitting on the side of the tub watching a 2 year old read a magazine, working, or watching Cupcake Wars has been spent out of doors.

7. I have discovered Word Scramble with Friends. Addictive and frantic and may cause me to actually start putting Xanax in my peanut butter on purpose.

So. There you have it. All the reasons I have not been here. I will do better. I will try harder. I will be back ASAP. With more fun tales of the Honey Badger and life and whatever else I come across.
Happy Thursday!

Thursday, March 8, 2012

Quick Rant...Just Sayin'

This one is only for people On Face Book, because that is the only place I ever run across this little quandary. And the quandary I speak of is this: using the phrase "Just Sayin" after another, questionably offensive, phrase. Examples to follow.

1. It is not summer so not even Spring yet, so if you are already wearing flip flops you're an idiot. Just Sayin.

2. Dook sucks and Carolina rules forever. Just Sayin.

3. People that park in the Person-with-Child parking places at Teeter to use the Redbox are jerks. Just Sayin.

These are just a few examples of what is the most annoying thing to happen on Face Book, second only to those life affirming virtual posters that I am pretty sure would be better suited for a Guidance Counselor's office in 1994. If you say something rude or disparaging it absolutely DOES NOT negate that comment to follow it up with a "Just Sayin". It only makes it more annoying and offensive. Because you obviously really mean it and you are trying to soften the blow a little so people don't go off on you. But we all know what you mean. "Just Saying" is the "Bless your heart" of our generation. Except not nearly as endearing. Own your comments people, or don't say them at all. I'm just sayin'. 

[Note: The examples are not really from people's updates but they are the kind of thing I see on a daily basis. The first two things I could care less about. The last example I feel passionately about. I used to think those spots were redonk, but now that I have a child, I have changed my tune. So if you are parking there for any reason and do not have a child under the age of 5 with you, prepare to get the death ray stare down if I see you.]

Update: For my girl Jenn, everyone please refrain from using the phrase "at the end of the day." That one is killing her. Thanks.

Monday, March 5, 2012

Listen to Your Gut, Not your Husband

Let me start this list by saying that I live in fear that my husband and friends will band together and put me on What Not to Wear. I am not claiming to be an expert on what looks good or what is fashionable. I do however have steadfast rules about what I believe is not attractive. Lucky y'all, I am now going to share them. You are welcome.

1. Baseball caps backwards on anyone over 18. Baseball caps on backwards say to me: I'm-a-sophomore-and-going-to-weightlifting-class-and its-1994. For dudes, it always makes me feel like they are trying to hard to be young and hip. Mostly because they were young and hip in 1994 and that was cool then. Now it is just covering your receding hairline. On girls, it is seriously unflattering. It is something I feel should never ever been seen anywhere. Ever. Ladies, please refrain.

2. Overalls. Yes, I wore overalls with a strappy tank in high school. Because that was hot. Except for it really was not hot. Not then, and not now. Only little kids and old men look cute in overalls. Everyone else looks vaguely androgynous and very wide. Even you, hippie chicks. I recently read that overalls are making a comeback. I shudder to think. If you see my wearing them next year, feel free to remind me of this post.

These would cause serious staritis.
3. If people are staring at your face/bangs/chest you need to find a mirror ASAP. My people, I speak from experience. More than once, I have been having a weird bang day (if you have or ever have had bangs, you are familiar with this phenomenon). I spent the day watching people stare at my bangs while I talked to them. When I got to the bathroom to see what the heck they are looking at, I realized it looked like my cat had licked them into place. No idea how that happens when they were swooping perfectly when I left the house. When people are staring at your face you probably have a zit that needs attention, something smudged where it should not be, or a boogie. That last one is the worst and people are often uncomfortable pointing out anything booger related, in case they are forced to help you remove it. The chest staring usually means you have either buttoned your shirt incorrectly or you are showing too much cleave. Also something people dislike pointing out because then they have to admit they were staring at your boobage.

4. A little make-up never hurt anyone. A little powder, blush, and mascara can do wonders. Very seldom do these three things used conservatively make anyone look worse. I am no makeup genius. I have not mastered the art of intensive brow maintenance or using concealer. I do however try to do a little something to my face everyday so that I look less like a tired mother of a two year old and more like someone who is at least trying a little. I will say, I can go from unfortunate to acceptable in less than one minute with those three things. Please note, I also believe that too much makeup hurts everyone. Both those wearing and those looking at the wearers. Let your skin breathe people.

Surely that felt too tight.
5. If it feels too tight, it probably is. We have all done it. We have all walked out of the house and spent the day sucking in because our pants/shirt/dress feels uncomfortably snug. Chances are if it feels that way, it looks that way. Listen to your gut, literally. If it is screaming out of discomfort, you should respect that and take the extra 3 minutes to change. Then you don't have to spend the day thinking about how tight your outfit is, and being self concious. You can devote your brain power to more important things. Like Words with Friends and Pintrest (surely you didn't think I meant work).

6. If it looks too tight to you, it probably is. Please refer to the previous point. If you look in the mirror and are unsure if the fit of your garment is acceptable, you should probably go ahead and change. It is a win-win for everyone. Again, listen to your gut. And if it, or any other part of your body, is straining your ensemble in unattractive ways, give it some room. Literally.

No good I say. No good.
7. It it feel like it is giving you a wedgie or a camel toe, it definitely is. One would think this was a no-brainer. Sadly, my friends, it is not. How many times have you been walking behind some unfortunate soul in jeans whose wedgie is enough to make you start sweating and picking your own undies JIC. I am in a perpetual state of amazement of people that are able to go about their day with either of these two conditions happening downstairs. Can't they feel that? Do they just not care? Either scenerio is perplexing. If there is a shadow of a doubt that either thing is happening, please for the love of all that is decent, change your pants. 

8. Husbands sometimes lie becuase they are scareds.  We all ask our husband's opinion on things. Do I look fat? Do you like these shoes? I do it too, and I discovered a little something interesting a few months ago. Husbands lie. I think it is because they are scared to tell the truth, lest we have a nervous breakdown and are unable to wash their boxers or make dinner. The scenerio: I was thinking about changing my hair and asked the hubs one simple question. Bangs or no bangs? His response was a surprisingly vehement, "No bangs. I hate bangs." Imagine my shock, considering I've rocked bangs for approximately 98.2% of the entire 14 years we have been together. I almost fainted from distress. All those times he said he liked my hair cut? Lies. Lies lies lies. Upon further soul searching, I decided his opinion was actually not all that important and I now have even thicker bangs. Guess that will teach him to lie to me. Please keep this anecdote in mind when you are asking your other half if something looks good. Ask your best friend. She will tell you that your muffin top is happening in a big way or your boobage is off the hook. Husbands, not so much. They need us too much.

There you have it. I don't claim to be super fashionable, but I do claim to know that you should listen to your gut and your booty, but maybe not your husband. 


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