January 23, 2008

Doggie Doo Doo

My daughter woke up screaming today yelling “THERE IS DOG POOP IN MY BED! GET IT OUT!”

We don’t have a dog.

Rubbing the sleep from my eyes I rolled over to find my husband walking into the room, “it’s cat puke. And it’s on the floor.” And then he proceeded to go about his morning routine.

Apparently it’s just assumed I’m the cat puke cleaner-but whatever.

Despite 10 minutes of telling our little peanut this was cat sick and not dog poop-she still insisted it was dog poop and insisted it was in her bed. Again, whatever.

I cleaned, she cried, and then she told me how her stuffed dog poops.

Oh goodie. More beings to clean up after.

I’ve never really worried about my daughter’s animal fetish until now. She wants a horse, and since that’s totally out of the question it never really spent much time in my mind-but this new puppy fetish is getting out of hand.

She asked her DAD for a puppy the other day and I swore he couldn’t even LOOK at her when he said “no.”

Yeah, Daddy’s cracking.

But more importantly-she’s carrying a puppy everywhere. School, wherever. And while I’m thrilled it’s replaced the horse-head on a stick she was RIDING everywhere-I’m not liking the idea of being cat sick cleaner-upper and dog poop cleaner-upper.

Or am I?

Friends with animals-how old were your kids when they started REALLY taking care of them-or let me rephrase that-how old were they when you MADE them do it?

Don’t get me wrong, I highly doubt any new animals are entering this home anytime soon. But if I’m cleaning up stuffed dog shit from the carpet, anything is possible.

September 4, 2007

Lyrics for PreSchoolers

“Mommy why can’t he have a screw?”

Turning down A/C in car to hear the 4-year old…

“What honey?”

“Why can’t he get a screw, that guy?”

“What guy?”

“The guy on the song. He needs a screw. And he can’t find one.”

…thinking…thinking…listening closer to music on radio..day after day…I get angry…and I will say…OH.MY.GOD.

“So the guy singing the song???? You think he needs a screw???”

“Yeah. That’s what he said. I’m sure Daddy can get him a screw out of his tool box. Then we can give it to him and he will have a screw.”

“Suuuuurrre. We can do that…”

“OH WAIT! Its ok Mommy-he FOUND it!”

“Oh…did he?”

“Yes, he found the screw in his PANTS!”

“Good for him.”

“Why would he keep a screw in his pants? Now THAT is JUST HILARIOUS Mommy!”

Sigh

August 6, 2007

Striking Fear in the Hearts of Men

Up until about 4-6 weeks ago, my daughter was nothing like me. She was sweet and quiet and shy. She picked flowers and sang to blue birds perched on her finger. Yes, the bluebirds harmonized with her.

I was confident she was going to be one of those sweet, nice, sunshine smile kind of girls. The kind and gentle voice of reason to her slutty, stupid girlfriends. Studious. Polite to a fault. Teachers pet. You’re getting the picture here, right?

Well, apparently at 2 1/2 years old she’s just NOW decided that halo-polishing baby I knew was just an act. We’ve entered classic terrible two territory with the “NO!” and “I DO IT MYSELF” but with a Princess Peanut Punk as Fuck TWIST-she’s got a hair flip, eyelash bat, head cock thing going on that scares the bejeeezus out of me.

She is going to CRUSH men. CRUSH them.

In the meantime, she’s crushing me. I tell her “no” and I get an “I want DADDY!” in response. I say “stop that right now” and I get a “NO Mommy” then she grabs my cheeks and kisses me on the lips. As if to say, “I’m not going to do what you say, but I’m cute and loving and I will at least give you a nice kiss before defying you, silly woman.”
I’m fucked.

Time outs are not working. Taking away toys seems to only fuel her evil. I took away a beloved baby and she said (and I’m not kidding here) “pffffffffffffft.” She pfffffft’d my punishment and walked away.

I keep reminding myself we went through this with Count Waffles, and he’s now a model citizen. I keep telling myself its just another phase and it will pass.

In all honesty, I’m not sure. The hair flip, head cock, eyelash bat thing-is beyond “phase.” Its possible I inadvertently taught her how to work a man. She’s using it against me. She’s using it against her father. She’s using it against the world.

I blame myself of course. I obviously showed her my wily ways. I didn’t realize she was soaking it in, but…there it is. OR, maybe its just in the DNA? She’s got some female Queen-gene that helps her pout her lips and lean her head on her father’s shoulder at JUST the right, somewhat evil, moment.

What I need to remember here is that I’M the Queen. I’m the ALPHA female in THIS house. I will not fear her. I will not give in to her. I’m not going to fold at a mere eyelash bat, sulk episode in my kitchen.

She can’t make me.

July 17, 2007

YOUTUBE PAYBACK

So, the other day I posted a video clip of Mocha Momma, aka Kelly, reading at LA Angst. She was unhappy with me. She swore her revenge and said she would post me in an “unflattering” light and that I deserved it.

Ladies and gentlebloggers, Kelly’s revenge (CLICK TO SEE)

Yes, that was edited. But you’ve seen enough of my tits.