About Me

My photo
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.

Wednesday, September 28, 2011

To my Large Fry on his 5th Birthday

Dear Large Fry,

Today is September 28th. In one month you will be five years old. Five. Is that possible? Have you grown that much? I know you like to hear of when you were born so here is a recap. I remember the day you were born. You were the strongest, scariest, tiniest mad baby I had ever seen. Such a fighter. So noisy.

As you grew you got bigger and nosier. And louder. For someone so small you sure can be so very loud. I remember sitting in the hospital thinking what we would do if we ever left this place. What you would grow to be like.

In my dreams I never thought you would look so much like me.

I sit and watch and wonder what you will be when you grow up, what paths in life you will take. You have been given a challenge. You told me the other day "Aspsberrger isn't my name Mommy. It's not me.". It's a word you hear a lot isn't? You have refused to let it own you. You have friends, you are popular, you are managing life with love and laughter. You are one of the most amazing people I know and I admire the kind of person you are turning into. Not the baby I once held in my arms, but the little person.

I know sometimes we fight. Sometimes you don't think I am a good Mommy. I know sometimes I make you cry. I hate those moments. Always remember that I only do those things because I do love you and I want what is best for you. Mommies, just like Pies, make mistakes too.

I'll end this with the poem I know you love so much:

I am your PARENT, you are my CHILD
I am your QUIET PLACE, you are my WILD

I am your CALM FACE, you are my GIGGLE
I am your WAIT, you are my WIGGLE

I am your DINNER, you are my CHOCOLATE CAKE
I am your BEDTIME, you are my WIDE AWAKE

I am your LULLABY, you are my PEEKABOO
I am your GOODNIGHT KISS, you are my I LOVE YOU



Friday, September 16, 2011

Shitty Day

Ever have one of those days? This day was shit.

Small Fry freaked out all day. ALLL day. Did I mention all day? Because it was all day.

All day. All day. All day. All day. All day. All day. All day. All day. All day. All day. All day. All day. All day. All day. All day. All day. All day. All day.

My taco bean salad was crappy. I looked forward to it all morning only to be disappointed. It was mediocre at best. It tasted nothing like what I imagined it would. It was suppose to be spicy, lettuce, crunchy perfection. Food from the Gods as I pat myself on the back and assured myself that I was a fitness fanatic with my healthy lunch. Instead it was boring, soggy, and limp and I would have cut a bitch for a bacon cheeseburger.

Dinner was no better. The hot dog wrapped in bread was vastly superior to whatever that was that I thought I made. My "creation" was shittacular at best. One could almost have used it as a weapon against baddies.

CIA Agent: I can make you talk
Baddie: NEVAR!
CIA Agent: Oh yes. Talk or you have to eat...THIS!
Baddie!! AHHHHH
*DUM DUM DUM*

Take my word for it. It was horrible. So finally, finally bedtime comes. I have something to be excited over. It's my daily date night with Agent Hotchner (rawr) and a peanut buster parfait (I can hear you judging me. I don't care).

I am sliding my new Criminal Minds Season 6 into the DVD player when I hear Small Fry. He's stirring, he's fussy. So I go to check and sure enough he smells foul. So I bring him to the bed to do a quick assessment. He needs changing. It's late.

I get the diaper off and for whatever reason I keep it to the side. Usually I wrapped the diaper up tightly and set it to the side. For whatever reason I did not do this. I suck. In one quick, seamless motion Small Fry grabs the diaper and flings it at me. I manage to sidestep the open face diaper and it hits the floor.

Did it land face up or face down? Please let it be face up. Please please please. I don't want to mop. I don't want to clean the floor. I just want to put child to bed, diaper in the trash and continue with my date with Hotch.

This was a one- step solution. I lost my balance and stepped right into the open face diaper.
oh my God no no no no no Oh my God no no no no no no no no Oh my God no no no no no no no Oh My God no no no no no no no no Oh my God no no no

Hands are on the bed. Foot is in one shitty diaper, wiggling baby, and I am missing Hotch and my husband looks up and says

"Damn. That's shitty."
DieDieDieDIeDieDieDieDieDieDieDieDieDieDieDieDieDieDieDieDieDieDieDieDieDieDieDieDieDieDieDieDieDieDieDieDieDieDieDieDieDieDieDieDieDie




Monday, September 5, 2011

I'm living with Jaws


Small Fry turned 2 this past week and with that he's gained a whole new identity.

I use to think he was a meat eating dinosaur. He had the keen sense of when to strike, when to hold back, and when would make the most impact.

I've now decided he's a direct descendant of Jaws. You remember Jaws?


This is what I'm living with. Teeth and all.

He bit me on the ass recently.

It was a picture perfect day. The sun was shining. Birds were out crapping on people's vehicles. Large Fry was at school hopefully doing something besides picking locks (he does that). I was on the phone to the insurance company trying to settle our policy for the new truck (can open... worms everywhere) when Jaws rounded the corner.

Now I was ass deep in forms and policy numbers and I had stood up to get a pen. I heard the high pitched wails of "I am here! PAY ATTENTION TO ME! ME ME ME!". I admit, I ignored them. I figured he was right behind me. What harm could he do?

Bad move.

I turned my back on him.

I was in the process of writing down a number when it struck. Without warning (or at least without a decent warning in my opinion) Mouth wide, Jaws launched his teeth on my ass. All teeth sank in unison form into (in my opinion, again, a pretty sweet) ass.

Jaws latched on. And didn't let go. Tears formed in my eyes. I could not help myself. I squealed out "Holy Mother of God!" I think I said the word fuck. I can't remember. All I know is at that time I had the phone to one ear and a 2 year old attached to my ass. Literally. He was not letting go. Shaking wasn't the answer. Neither was running. So I stood there and took it.

The lady on the phone stopped her speech. I'm pretty sure she thinks I'm crazy. And perhaps trying to convert her.

Finally, finally he let up. The tooth impressions are still on my ass cheek. A reminder why you never, ever ignore Jaws. And why I always stand with my back to the wall now.

*insert Jaws Theme*