Guess Where I Get to go?!

I went to an eye appointment yesterday around eleven in the morning. Usually, Mikayla goes down for a nap right at 12:30pm for two hours and has lunch when she wakes up. But, since the schedule was a little messed up yesterday, I gave her lunch before putting her down for her nap.

She talked and sang to herself for about an hour. Then, she started screaming. So, I go back upstairs to her room and she is holding on to the crib railing, jumping up and down.

"Hey, mommy!"

"Hey, baby. It's night night time."

"Nooooooooooo."

"Yes."

I put her down, give her the Pooh bear and covered her up with her quilt.About 15 minutes later, she's screaming again.

"Mmmmmooooooommmmmmmmmyyyyyyyyyy!"I

go back up there. The second I open the door, she says "Weeeegggguulllllsssss!"

There's no point in me fighting her. I pick her up and bring her back downstairs. And I, being the horrible parent that I am, turn on the Wiggles.

Mikayla stands in front of the table hugging her Pooh bear. I'm watching her and her eyes start to droop. She's so tired. I notice that she starts doing the slow head bob. Once. Twice. She is really fighting sleep. Then all of a sudden...no way! As I'm watching her, she falls asleep. STANDING UP! Maybe I should pick her up. I was in awe. I didn't know you could fall asleep standing up. The next thing I know, Mikayla topples over. It was like watching a tree fall. TIMBER! The kid didn't even flinch! Oh My god! That is the funniest thing ever! So, I start laughing and I pick her up and go back to her room.

As I shut her bedroom door, I realize that Cullen is right. I DO have an express ticket.

Just Some Bits

heycece said: there's a lot of crafty people around huh?

Courtney said: yeah...too many SAHMs!

heycece said: what's a SAHMs?....oh wait stay at home mom

heycece said: i got it

Courtney said: yep...there are a ton of them (us) here

heycece says: not you babe!

Courtney says: for a little bit longer!

heycece says: starting soon, you'll bring home BACON

Courtney says: yeah right ...more like a Bacon Bit

ETA: This IM conversation still makes me laugh over a year later. :)

The Pineapple Monkey...I Swear She's Not on Crack

You know all of those grocery store flyers that you get each week in your mail? Mikayla was looking at this week's Safeway circular, upside down, when she pointed to a picture of a pineapple (that you can now get for $2.99).

"Muh-key."

"Huh?"

"Muh-key."

"No, baby. Sorry. That's not a monkey."

She stabbed the picture with her pointer finger and scrunched her face all up.

"MUH-KEY!!!!"

I then turned the advertisement the right way.

"Pineapple."

She spent a minute searching for the monkey with a very confused look on her face. She turned to me, with tears in her eyes and turned her hands up and shrugged her shoulders as if to say, "I don't know where he went."

Then, the Demon in Toddler Clothing jabbed me in the chest with that damn finger (I think I have a bruise now) and said, "Momma. Muh-key. Owwwwwiiiiiieeeeeee!" with a horrified look on her face as if I killed the thing.

So, I turned the ad back upside down and suddenly the pineapple turned into a money and the world was the way it should be.

Ahhhhh...Now Isn't That Refreshing?

A few weeks ago a friend* of mine was over at the house watching some TV with us. Mikyala was running around so I picked her up. When I did, I noticed that it felt like she was carrying the Gulf of Mexico in her diaper. I grabbed a diaper, the wipes and some butt cream and placed her on the ground. I took off the velcro and started wiping her bottom with a wipe. She hates having her diaper changed. She screams as if I'm holding her down and ripping her skin off piece by piece. My friend* stared down at me with the most horrified expression.

"I can't believe you use those things on her!"

"What?"

"The wipes! Have you tried them? They hurt like a sonofabitch!"

"What to you mean they hurt? No they don't."

"Yes, they do."

"No they don't. They're made to go on babies hoo-hoos and butts. They're basically just a soft wipe and water."

"They sting!"

"You are crazy! I've used them before when we ran out of toilet paper and they were fine!"

"I saw them in the bathroom once at our house and used them to wipe. It was like pouring acid on my ass. It burned and felt like a fire was going on my butt."

His wife, Maureen*, was listening and said, "The wipes in our bathroom next to the toilet?"

"Yeah. Those"

"Those were Lysol Cleaning Wipes, you idiot."

Holy, mother of god...that must have hurt like hell.

* Names changed to protect the innocent...? Maybe stupid is more like it.

A Nation's Crisis: Parents and Cults

I was reading a book last night Death Du Jour by Kathy Reichs. I came to a paragraph describing cults:

"The cult controls the recruit's time and environment. Diet. Sleep. Work. Recreation. Money. Everything. It creates a sense of dependency, or powerlessness apart from the group. As it does that it instills the new morality, the system of logic to which the group adheres. The world according to the leader. And it is defnitely a closed system. No feedback allowed. No criticism. No complaints."

Oh. My. god. My parents are cult leaders! How did this happen?! How did I not know?!

They told me when to go to sleep, when I needed to wake up, what was for breakfast, what was being made for dinner, how much allowance they would give me for the week, what to clean, when I could drive their car, when I could go to the movies and the mall with friends....

Proof:

• Once they told me I couldn't hang out with a certain friend because they were a "bad influence".
• Another time they told me that I had to get a job to pay for my car insurance. HOW DARE THEY!
• They told me that I could not eat cake for breakfast...or ice cream. I had to eat the eggs and bacon my mom made me. See? DIET CONTROL!
• I was not allowed to go to Lollapalooza...DAMN THEM!

And, last, but not least, my parents didn't care what I thought. I sure as hell wasn't allowed to provide feedback. Nothing was up for discussion. My Dad frequently ended his sentences with, "Period. End of Report". That meant shut the hell up. I would have been slapped into next week if I dared criticize them.

For all of you children out there...be careful. Your parents might be cult leaders, too. Consider this a PSA. I think someone should call the news stations...and CNN.