About Me

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Very Small Town. No really. Don't even try to look., Alberta, Canada
I am a stay at home mother of 2 boys. I try to keep total and complete command of this kingdom. I reign tall! But they are very are skilled little ninjas waiting to take me out at any available opportunity. You would think I would learn my lesson. I don't. Every day, I return. Everyday they kick ass.

Thursday, August 19, 2010

I birthed a dinosaur

Or are they?

Small Fry has teeth. 4 normal baby teeth. Until you are holding him. The he resembles something like this:

I'm not kidding. The shifty eyes and everything. On the ground he is a sweet lovable boy. When you pick him up he turns into a descendant of a velociraptor, complete with teeth.

We went to Edmonton on Friday for a wedding. Everything was going fine. He was in his carseat doing what babies do (I think he was eating his sock to be exact) when we arrived. We had a few stops to make so this required retrieval from the carseat and I had to hold him.

The shape shifting begins.

You can visibly see this. You can see the teeth emerging from his mouth ready to sink into any flesh that is near. Oh no, a teething ring just will not suffice. He needs flesh. On this day, I was the flesh. Wearing a thin cotton T-shirt because when we go to the "city" I like to look at least normal. Not braless and covered in finger smudges with wild eyes, but you know, at least somewhat in the same color scheme.

Small Fry begins his attack. He has his fingers (claws) into the small fine hairs that adorn my head. He pulls causing my head to lower and position out of his way so I can't SEE anything but him. He zeros in and his teeth find the mark--right on my boob. No lie. All four (200) teeth sink into my left boob. I can't shake him off. I'm paralyzed. He has me in his grip and he is NOT LETTING GO.

What do I do??? Flap around like a drunken party guest doing the chicken dance seems like the best course of action at this time.

"Help! He's biting me! He's biting me! HE ISN'T LETTING GO!"

I feel faint. This must have been what a stegosaurus felt like. Really cool looking but ultimately falls victim to a vicious small dinosaur. We will go down looking good at least. The Teeth hold strong. I see blood (Okay it was drool but still). This is the end, I'm figuring out slowly as the Tiny Vicious Beast (tm) has his claws and teeth sunk into me, my demise is slow.

Until victory! A bird flies overhead and he releases me. He hits me a couple of times and says "Mamamama ugggggggg".

I've spent a few days deciphering this. It means "It's not over."

Saturday, August 7, 2010

I Like to Make You Dance Mama

Large Fry has a habit of stripping off all his clothes. Randomly. It doesn't matter the where or when or what I or he is doing. He just strips for no apparent reason. Well there is a reason. He likes to feel the 'Wind on my bumhole Mommy". This is reasonable logic and I am a failure as a human being for not comprehending this.

He strips before any bathroom activities and he usually tries to skinny out the door buck ass naked to run in the backyard. That's fine. Now he's made it personal.

I am a pants person. Mostly. I wear pants/shorts most of the year. And it works for me. I was recently sadden by my lack of skirt wearing. I should wear skirts! Skirts of TEH POWERZ. No really. So in a escape of sanity, I put on a white longer skirt. Then I load them up in the car to go grab a few things.

It was this day that Alexander decides he does not want to ride in the cart, but walk along beside me. I am happy. This is a big day. My son, walking along the grocery store doing beautifully. No running or yelling or attempting to toss random things into the cart.

I pause in front of the bread to debate a bagel choice when suddenly, like a flash, this small hand comes whipping out of no where. NO WHERE and it yanks down the back of the skirt with amazing speed and accuracy. And of course today is NOT the day I am wearing anything remotely cute under that skirt. The piles of laundry at home I had been ignoring was reflected in my very old, ratty underwear. You know which ones I mean. THOSE underwear that you pull out for last resort code red undie emergencies. The ones that are never to be seen by anyone, ever. Ever.

I'm fast and I pull up the back right about the time he is yanking on the front. He's ruthless, unforgiving, and determined to pants me right in the middle of the grocery store.

Fuck the bagels I say. Time to go. So I make my way to the cashier pushing the cart, sorta while trying to hold my skirt. Little hands are pawing. NONONONO I said "Stooooop!" Somehow we make it to the car. To be honest it's a blur of fruit and underwear. I plop him in his seat and ask him why. Why did he do that to Mama? Why?

"I like to make you dance Mama. It makes me laugh."