Monkey On His Back

So I finally decided to break down and get a harness buddy for my insanely active toddler.  We were at World Market getting some new chairs for the dining room (as an anniversary gift to ourselves) and there happened to be a Target next door.  While Aaron was helping them load stuff into the car, I went next door with Ashton to see if they had what we were looking for.  I had originally looked at a monkey, because that seemed insanely fitting for my son.  All they had were bears, and I knew that if I went anywhere this weekend, I would want this thing.  So I tried to convince him that a bear would be awesome.

I handed him the bear and, with my best excited voice, asked him,”Isn’t this a cute bear Ashton?”

“Yeah,” was his response.  He took the bear from me and tried hugging it a few times.  Feeling optimistic, I asked if we should take Mr. Bear home.  “No.”  And Mr. Bear found himself being thrown from the cart and onto the floor.

I picked up the bear and tried again, this time with all of the enthusiasm I could muster.  I got the exact same (if a little more annoyed) reaction.  This went on a few more times.  I decided to wander around to see if I could get someone to help.  Maybe they had monkeys somewhere and I was just blind.  I didn’t find anyone to help, but I did find my husband coming to find us.  “Did they not have it?”  He asked.

“They didn’t have the monkey, but they have a bear.”

“Did you have your heart set on a monkey?”

So I took him to the bears and showed him the delightful reaction I got when trying to force the bear on our fickle child.

“Ashton, look at the really cute bear!  Don’t you want to take the bear home?”

“No.”

“Well, what if we just put the bear in the basket.  How about that?”

“NO!” And he reached into the basket and threw the bear as hard as he could.  By now Aaron got the idea and agreed that we should at least ask if they had any monkeys.  We headed up to customer service and were “helped” by a lady who not only had no idea what we were talking about, but I’m pretty sure had no idea what she was doing.  She looked up something and started talking about colors and sizes and how she didn’t see any different patterns.  I looked at her blankly and declared, “It’s a stuffed animal!”  I might have yelled that last bit because she gave me a somewhat worried look.  Aaron thanked her for her help (if that’s what you could call it) and led me out of the store.

We hit another Target on the way home. By then the other child (aka parasite) had been using my bladder as a punching bag and I couldn’t stand it anymore.  I ran into the bathroom as Aaron took Ash to find a monkey.  As I walked toward the kids section, I saw Aaron walking back with what looked like an empty cart.  My heart sank.  Did they not have monkeys either?  Did he have the exact same reaction?  Was this stupid idea not going to work?

The reason I couldn’t see the monkey was that it was in my son’s demanding hands.  He was trying to tear it out of the box by the time I reached them, and we had to ask the cashier to cut it out for him.

He wears the silly thing around the house and tells you all about his back pack.  Constantly.  We have yet to use the “tail”, but he’s so happy wearing the silly thing that I think it will be ok.  I guess we’ll find out.

21 Weeks

I’m 21 weeks along, close to five months pregnant.  Everything is going well, the baby looks healthy.  I’m gaining the right amount of weight and size.  Things are going swimmingly.

We did another sonogram today to see if we could get a glimpse at the baby’s gender.  The kid had it’s back turned to us the whole time, but we could at least see between it’s legs from the back.  Since there was no sign of male genitalia, the doctor is guessing that it’s a girl.  There is still no way to be sure of this, so I’m going to wait YET ANOTHER MONTH before I feel that I know for sure.  So no screaming it from the mountain tops… yet.

I think I might have to break down and get a harness for Ashton.  He’s way too quick and active and has no interest in staying anywhere near his parents.  I have no idea how other parents train their children to stay close, but it seems to have something to do with the child’s desire to not lose his mom and dad.  My kid couldn’t care less, it seems.  I found a really cute monkey backpack, where the tail is actually detachable a strap for parents to hold onto.  For about 10 to 13 bucks I won’t have to worry as much anymore.  I finally reached this decision when we went to Scarborough Faire yesterday and I was by myself with the boy.  With no stroller (because it’s kind of a pain to deal with out there) it was almost impossible to keep him in check.  So… monkey backpack.  They’re actually called harness buddies.  I’ve never liked the idea of putting a leash on a kid, but Ashton is way more active than most, and I can’t keep up with him in my “current state”.

There are several parents who call this lazy.  I would like them to chase my son around for a few hours and then have a chat with me.  It’s not lazy, it’s just desperation.  My favorite comment of all is that you can train a dog to heel, you should be able to train a child just as easily.  How do you train a dog to heel?  I always used a short leash.  Somehow the logic just doesn’t translate there.

Okay I’ll stop my silly rant here.  I know it sounds like I’m trying to justify myself and this decision, and I kind of am.  To myself.  I’ve just been against the idea for so long that I’m having a tiny issue coming to terms with the fact that this might just save my sanity.

This is all for now.  You will know as soon as I do about the parasite and it’s details.

Unmoving

This Monday will mark the half way point for us.  20 weeks.  It can only get more exciting from here, right?

Because the doctor is super paranoid with this pregnancy (Ashton had some problems, putting me at high risk for getting pregnant again) he’s done a sonogram I think every time I’ve gone in.  We had an official one last visit, to make sure the baby is ok and hopefully see the gender.  The baby is either shy, or very very VERY interested in that part of his/her anatomy, because it wouldn’t take it’s hand out from between it’s legs.  And because it was still a little early, we couldn’t see anything.  So the fetus is still an “it”.  I’ll just continue calling it a parasite for now.  It’s fun, because it makes everyone around me crazy when I do that.

I just don’t feel all that connected to this baby.  Not like I did with my last pregnancy.  Maybe I got myself so psyched out in the first couple of months (I was sure that I was going to lose it) that I’ve not been able to get back to that attachment?  I genuinely have no idea.  With Ashton, I could feel how he was doing all the time.  I knew he was a boy long before the doctors did.  There were no surprises until he was actually born, and had been having difficulties.  Even that wasn’t much of a shock.  I went to the hospital because something didn’t feel right.  I was so in tuned with him.

This one?  I just can’t get a feel for it at all.  I know it’s active because we’ve seen on the sonograms how squirmy it is.  But I just don’t feel as much movement as I would have expected.  And I really have no clue about the gender.  I have always imagined myself having two boys.  I would love a girl, but I’ve never imagined having one, and the idea really never crossed my mind.  Now that it’s a real possibility that this baby will be a girl (50/50 at least) I’m not sure how to respond.  I would like to know so I can adjust my brain to the idea of it.  That and so I can clear out all of the boy clothes that we’ve kept behind from Ashton’s wardrobe.  And buy new stuff.  It would also be nice to be able to tell my mother so she’ll stop bugging me about it.  And you thought I was impatient!

On the outside, Ashton is bound and determined to make me insane.  This whole “I’m not taking a nap and you can’t make me” thing is crap.  The bedtime routine hasn’t gotten much better.  The potty training has improved by leaps and bounds, but only when he’s in a good mood, which is not when he’s tired.  So you can see the problem we’re having this week.  My mood isn’t helping things much, because I’ve not gotten a decent night’s sleep in about a week either.  Maybe the kid and I just need a break from each other.

I’ll let you know about the baby as soon as I do.

Blog Fail

So things keep happening around me and I keep thinking, “I should totally blog about this,” and then I totally forget about it because I suck.  So, you would have more blogs if it weren’t for the fact that I am an absolute failure at all of this nonsense.  I’ll go back a few weeks and try to remember stuff:

First Scarby started.  For those of you not in the know, Scarborough Renaissance Festival started a few weeks ago.  We went opening day and saw lots of familiar faces.  Some of them were welcome, and some were very much not, but they were seen none the less.  My bestest friend saw her ex, and it triggered a huge turning point for her.  This is a good step.  He seems to have a profound and unhealthy effect on the women he dates, but that’s really not the point.  Anyway, the point is a good time was had by all.

The next day I spent with my in laws while Aaron spent the entire day out at Scarby again (this time to work).  I got some crafty stuff done and such.  The rest of the week was not very eventful.  Friday came around and Lissa and I went to the Fort Worth Zoo in search of donkeys.  They didn’t have any, but we got some fun footage of animals and us being silly.  Ashton tried to run us both ragged while we were there.  My parents got to the house an hour or so after we did, and we all went out to dinner.  The night ended with Lissa and I desperately trying to finish editing footage from the previous week in a timely manner.  Not sure we were all that successful.  Aaron and Dad did other geeky stuff.

Next night was dinner with the whole family for my sister Tasha’s belated birthday.  I think that the restaurant was trying to immobilize us with all the food they gave us, but we managed to waddle out of the restaurant on our own.  We made mead that night.  And we stayed up LATE again.

Easter Sunday happened.  My parents left that morning, I spent the day with Aaron’s family (without him) and the kids ran around and wore themselves out.  I got Ashton a really cool Easter basket, which I failed to take pictures of because I suck like that.  It had some candy and a Cat in the Hat plush and the book.  He overlooked the stuffed animal at first, but now he’s sleeping with it and dragging it around.  Too cute.

I’ll do a whole other post about the pregnancy in a few days.  Just don’t have it in me right now.

We’ve Done it Again

So my bestest friend Lissa and I have started a video blog.  The very first episode will go up tomorrow, at some point.  If I can find out what time she wants to put it up I’ll start a count down on twitter or something.

Basically it’s the two of us acting like we’re being tacky and catty bitches.  So a standard Friday night for us.  We’re hoping that other people think it’s as funny as we do, but who knows.  So far it seems to be the main segment (whatever main thing we’re doing that week), some footage of Aaron doing whatever he wants, and Twitter Time.  Twitter time is where we answer questions or take requests from Twitter.  This started because of someone named Josh Cagan* asking us about donkey punching.  Really, watch the episode tomorrow and you’ll understand.

So you can find this amazing train wreck over at Oh My God Friday.**

I will be adding it to my blog roll list so it will be easy for everyone to find.  Check us out.  Give us your support.  Tell us when we’re being stupid.  Give us ideas to talk about.  And for the love of God feed our desperate need for attention!!! (We’re a little silly)

*Look!  Bold print!  That means you should click on it!

** Bold means click.  And you should check us out.  Really.  We’re funny.  We laugh all the time.

A Trip to Austin

A few weeks ago we went to Austin to visit my folks.  Yes I know, I should have written a blog entry about it as soon as we got home.  Well, I’m forgetful and lazy, so you can just bite me.

We decided to head out the night of Friday the 13, because Aaron would rather get there tired then get up early and start the drive tired.  This was the first weekend of many spring breaks around Texas.  It was also close to the beginning of South by SouthWest.  Needless to say, there were a whole lot of people headed into or around Austin that night.  Traffic was insanely stupid, a bit wet, and I think we waded into the traffic of at least a couple of accidents along the way.  Not to mention that we were trying to leave DFW on a Friday night at the tail end of rush hour.  Fun times.

Somewhere around 10:30 we got there.  Ashton was still awake (which I couldn’t believe.  I was sure he’d pass out around 9) so getting him to sleep now that we were somewhere exciting and new was fun.  He got to spend all three nights that we were there in my parents room, because their guest room has room for the Murphy bed and that’s about it.

Saturday Mom and I went shopping.  Dad and Aaron stayed home with Ashton and played video games.  They might have gone out and done something, but I truly don’t remember.  Mom and I got some new maternity pants (yay I have jeans!) and a few extra shirts.  Most of the shirts that I already owned were tank tops, so the t-shirts we found on sale at Motherhood Maternity were a major find.  We also grabbed a few new outfits for Ashton(of course), including something for his Easter pictures.

Sunday we went to brunch and then to the children’s museum in down town.  We had to walk around the area that held SXSW and noticed a severe lack of small children.  Lots of people were sitting around with computers in their laps, and we had to work hard to restrain Ashton from attacking them.  He loves computers.

The museum was… exciting.  All the loud and hyper kids!  Ashton discovered that he loves trains now, something we weren’t really aware of.  He ran himself ragged and finally fell asleep in the car not long before we got back to the house.  That evening we went out for burgers (to a really cool spot right on the water of the lake) and went for a walk.  The area my parents live in has lots of natural parks and beautiful scenery.  It had been raining so Ashton got COVERED in mud.  Fun times.

Getting him to bed any night that we were there was not a fun adventure.  He wanted to come see what we were doing, go play on his Grandma’s keyboard, or generally run up and down the stairs some more.  Monday we headed home.  Mom and Dad followed us to Waco, and Ashton got to ride with them.  We stopped off at the zoo and spent about 2 1/2 hours wandering around.  The car seat was returned to our car and we parted ways.  The kid was out like a light before we got to West.  He woke up about 20 minutes before we pulled into our driveway, so our drive home was rather peaceful.

You can probably expect another entry about local events soon (maybe even today).  This seems long enough for one post.

St. Patrick’s Day Story

We went to Austin this weekend and had a wonderful and exhausting time with my folks, and I will be happy to give you a play by play… later.  For now I have a story to share.

A few years ago Dallas stopped doing their St. Patrick’s Day parade.  Isis and her dancers would dance in it every year, and the last time they did it was my first and last St. Patrick’s Day parade to be in.  I was sad that they didn’t continue it, because it was a lot of fun.  The parade was filled with some fantastic acts, dancers and musicians alike, and I think everyone really enjoyed it.   The next year we heard that Fort Worth would be putting on a parade for the day of green, so we decided to check it out.

It was probably one of the more offensive parades that I’ve ever seen.  Admittedly, there wasn’t much that was Irish about it.  Mostly it was a parade of people riding horses through the street wearing green.  Now, I understand that this was in the Stock Yards, but some other representation would have been nice.  While this was all rather boring after a while, it wasn’t that insulting.  That was right at the very beginning.  The entire parade opened with a gentleman wearing a red kilt.  With a bagpipe.  Playing Scotland the Brave.

If you don’t know why this would or could offend someone, then I’m not going to explain it to you.  I would suggest you go read up on Irish history.  Pay special attention to the bit about their loving relationships with the Scottish.

Edit:  There used to be a family friendly parade that went through part of downtown Dallas.  This is not to be confused with the “parade” that happens at night on Greenville Ave.  This is more of a block party and for adults only.

Pulling Petals Off a Daisy

“He loves me, he loves me not, he wants to have me locked up.”

My brain has leaked out my ears.  There is no other explanation.  I know, I know, “forgetfulness is not uncommon during pregnancy” but seriously?  This is insane.  I forget everything.  The other day for dinner, I tried to fry the potatoes that I was cooking to mash, and put frozen peas on the stove only to leave them there hoping that they would magically cook on their own.  Aaron will ask me if I know where the remote is, the one that I had in my hand about ten minutes ago?  And I end up giving him a look that says he’s lucky that I remember WHAT the remote is, to hell with where.  Everything is escaping me so quickly.

The hearing hallucinations aren’t much better.  I don’t remember getting these at all last time.  In the car the other day, Aaron asked me if I remembered something (again) and when I gave him a blank look he called me placenta brain*.  This would have made sense, but for some reason I heard “Lissa Teh Brain.”  I couldn’t figure out what the hell he was talking about.  Was he calling Lissa smart?  Calling her silly?  Telling me she was much smarter than I am at the moment?  And what the hell did that have to do with our current conversation.  A few seconds later I realized what he actually said, and was relieved that I wasn’t completely losing my mind.  Honestly, if he doesn’t want to divorce me over this pregnancy, then I don’t know what will get rid of him.

I have been rather ill lately, this baby is taking quite a bit out of me.  The main trouble is my lack of energy.  So I have no drive to get anything done around the house, and laundry and dishes tend to pile up.  I can get some of it done when I have help, but I’m getting winded really quickly.  The other issue is that I don’t have the energy to play with Ashton the way I have before.  I think it’s starting to become clear to him that things have changed, because he’s started to act out quite a bit lately.  The worst is at nap time and bed time.  He has taken to literally screaming as soon as his head hits the pillow.  After an hour or so of this, I’m to the point where I want to scream as well.  It’s not going well, but hopefully this phase won’t last long.

Anyone want to take the kid to a park or zoo or something?  Go and wear his ass out.

*Placenta Brain is a phrase that I heard from Dooce**.  I’m not sure if she came up with it originally, but she’s the only person I’ve ever heard use it***.  It has recently become my nick name.

**It’s come to my attention that because of the style and font I use it’s difficult to tell when something is a link.  From now on all links will be in bold print (when I remember).

***Edit: I went and looked it up and apparently it’s everywhere.  Even in the Urban Dictionary.  Just goes to show how much I pay attention.

Adventures in Mommy-hood

I really have nothing of interest to say here, but I have an amusing story and have not posted in a while, so here goes.

On Saturday the 14th Ashton spent the night at his aunt Judy’s.  There’s no great mystery as to why, so I won’t go into the gory details here.  Aaron went to teach class that afternoon, and as Ashton napped I got his bag prepared for an overnight stay.  In the process I snuck his glow worm out of bed and set it in the side pocket of his bag.  The last I had checked it had still been there.

Aaron came home from class, rested a few minutes, and headed out to drop off the small child while I stayed home and made myself pretty for the party we were going to.  (Some friends were celebrating their 20th anniversary.  And you thought we stayed home and did something naughty, didn’t you?)  We went out, had a great time, and life was good.

The next day Aaron’s parents went and picked up Ash so that we could go and have our real date.  We went and saw Coraline which was awesome and wonderful and much creepier than I expected.  We then went to the in-laws to have dinner and hang out.  On our way out that evening I looked everywhere for Glow the Glow Worm.  She wasn’t in his play room, nor was she in his bag.  Gerry said that she hadn’t seen Glow, and that she was probably still at Judy’s.  We stopped over there (a whole block away) and asked where they thought the toy might be.  They hadn’t seen it either, and didn’t remember it being in the bag.  I spent the whole drive home fretting that we had lost her.  We got home, put the sleeping boy in his bed, and there, sitting on the pillow, was the stupid Glow Worm.  He had seen her in his bag and put her back where she belonged.  Crisis averted.

He doesn’t really need the Glow Worm to sleep, I guess.  It’s become like a security blanket, and at home he uses it as a second night light (his room can get kind of dark).  But I didn’t want to find out what putting him to bed without her would be like.  Thankfully I don’t have to.

I need maternity jeans.  My belly is out growing my pants, and if it doesn’t have drawstrings or elastic bands, I don’t wear it.  The only pair of jeans I really wear anyway have gotten just slightly too tight, and I’ve been wearing them with a rubber band.  I’m tired of rigging my clothing so that it fits.  I have maternity clothes (that I’ve gotten back out recently) but as far as pants go, everything is summer wear.  I have shorts, and Capri’s.  No jeans.  This needs to be remedied.

Pushing Numbers

I turned 29 last year and a phrase has started to work it’s way into my head.  No one (thankfully) has actually used this phrase in reference to me, yet, but it still bothers me.  The phrase is “Pushing Thirty.”

Now I’ve gotten my fair share of old jokes already.  There’s always the best friend pointing and laughing and saying, “Ha ha, you’re old because some high school student didn’t know that song/movie/pop culture reference you just made.”  This is not a sign of my age so much as it is a sign of these kids ignorance.  They must be educated! Sorry, that’s not really the point, just wanted to get that out there.

We never worry about a birthday up until the big Three Zero.  29 is not a scary number.  Nor were any of the numbers before that.  This is really no different, it’s just a marker of how many years you’ve been on the planet.  So why does it worry so many people?  I have never heard of anyone “pushing 25″ or any other age.  No one gets freaked out over their 20th birthday* and that represents a whole 2 decades of life.  So why is it that 3 decades on the planet suddenly makes you old?

We never push any birthdays that don’t end in a 0.  Have you noticed this?  We’re always pushing 30, or 40, and onwards until we die.  And where exactly are we pushing these years to?  Are we pushing them away in general?  Are we pushing them over a cliff?  The days are going to go by at the same rate they always have, so why do we think metaphorically pushing a specific date is going to keep it from arriving on time?

I refuse to push!  I’m simply going to allow the days to come and wash over me.  I have no issues with my birthdays, no matter what number they bring with them.  So this year, in the beautiful month of November, I will proudly be turning… 28.

* Except my mother.  On her 20th birthday she cried and when asked what was wrong she blurted out, “I’m not a teeny-bopper any more.”  I’ve never made any claims that my mother is exactly stable.