no siree bob.

we are totally not getting along.

nope. nuh uh. no way, no how.


surprisingly, its really not as fun as it might sound.

I'm over blaming it on "baby days"...that's a cop out. The kid is cute and we should be enjoying this...together. Instead, we're bitching, moaning, whining and nagging (and by "we" obviously I mean him). there are some core attitude and character issues here. discrepancies. disconnects. conflicts.

the true culprit must be identified and anihilated...

cause, quite frankly, this shit is getting old.

the boss o' me

oqui wants me to get a part-time job.

yessir!

I'ma gemme a job, make us some money and laugh OUT LOUD when I come home from work at night to find oqui sprawled on the floor and drooling with the Prof's foot (and/or pee) in his eye.

he has no idea what he's in for. every time I leave him with the baby for a 45 minute run to the grocery store he gives me 'tude for three days following. (by "he" I actually mean the older of the two brats...this time)

I'm bored. I'd LURRRRVE to get my ass outta this house and off boob duty for a few hours a week, but the man has been forewarned...

if he gives me attitude or starts exercising his "moods"...

I'ma cut his face off.

out on a limb

would it be too much to ask for another set of arms?

I'd settle for an extra foot and two more thumbs.

anything. please.

the kid is driving me fruity.

skillz

we have recently acquired the ability to roll onto our tummy within 3.25 seconds of being put down to nap or sleep regardless of any measure mommy takes to prevent it (and I don't want this to get out, but I'm pretty sure I heard whisperings of duct tape and extension cords)...

we have NOT, however, acquired the consistent ability to roll back onto our back,

nor have we gained the necessary patience or skill to remain asleep on said tummy.

in other words...we're fukt.

puke, scream, whine

well. that was short lived.

I am hereby (re)relegated to turkey and rice.



...but it sho was fun.

helloooooooo! out there

I should really post more. I get the feeling noone is actually reading, but I told myself I'd chronicle the prof's days (at the very least) in my blog.

he's cool. he's really really cool.

he smiles and jibber jabbers and flirts and grabs things and laughs when he farts and all that good stuff.

recently he rediscovered his fingers and toes. they twirl, spin, clench, open, grab and apparently are really tasty.

it's wicked cute.

he's really big into his body right now. he twists and bends and curls and stretches. he's not doing anything too much like crawling but he's approximating a pretty good squirm.

so fast. growing so fast.

he still screams bloody murder and gets hysterical when I leave him with my grandmother and he happens upon hungry. oqui thinks I should try to work a little bit. I think oqui's nuts. not going to school in the fall...probably not going this summer, either.

hungry babies are sad babies. I don't want to leave my baby with someone else to get hungry.

speaking of hungry...can I just say amen, hallelujah and holy shit?

yes. holy shit.

I've stumbled upon digestive enzymes and the ability to eat almost anything in eensy weensy quantities.

chickpeas? yup.
chocolate? yup.
cheesestick? ok...that was pushing it and we had some puke and green poo over it...but I'm still feeling pretty spiffy about this morning's sunflower seed butter experiment.

I ate chinese food and my child didn't die.

woot.

we bailed out on the rendezvous. 20 hours of travel 4 nights in a tent and upwards of 40% chances of rain each day.

no thank you.

I got the report that there were other babies there and I felt like a total chickenshit. but...oh well. I'm a somewhat well-rested chickenshit who took a shower or two this weekend.

I don't reek of hippy and my kid is still on a somewhat normal sleep schedule.

win-win.

I'm feeling a wee lil bit inspired (oqui likes to call these days "AC" for after chocolate. it's trully the nectar of the gods). I've got a giant painting project. gonna snazz up some cheapy craigslist furniture and deck out a playroom...

then I'll finish my mother's day photo frames, resew the curtains I mismeasured and screwed royally, maybe (just maybe) clean out my craft cabinet and potentially make some...

pretty stuff.

I'm not getting too carried away here...just being optimistic.

so far I've "wasted" 72 minutes of precious nap painting time...eating, peeing, blogging and oqui'ing (I really do love that he comes home to see us for lunch every single day)...

must to focus.

must to create.

all clear, but still a lil foggy

the prof's eeg was normal. the nurse said, "it isn't seizures...it's prolly just -his way-"


HAHAHAHAHA

so my child isn't epileptic...just a spazz. I could've called that one without 26 electrodes and 45 minutes of blood curdling screams. it runs in the blood...my 13 year old caught it, too (more on that when I'm not disgusted with her grades and choice in boys).

right now the prof is screaming his ever loving head off. he's REALLY not feeling well...at all.

been having boo boo belly for 3 days, now. it's getting old...for all of us.

he wants to eat food SOOOO badly. he mouths and drools whenever I eat and gnaws on his hand after he's done nursing. he's totally not satisfied with just milk, and is starting to balk at rice cereal.

the kid aint dumb. he wants tater tots. I just wonder when (if ever) he'll be able to eat like a normal child/human. if he has celiac's disease...gluten is a no-no forevah. forevah-evah? forevah.

damn.

what will he smear all over his face at his first birthday??? organic applesauce and rice cereal?

fun.
yum.

meanwhile, I want to eat taquitos and rice and beans like nobody's fucking business, but I'll have to settle for rice milk, watermelon and the occassional Puffin.

I'm getting sick of Puffins.

I'm getting sick of chicken...and turkey...meat in general, really. If I could eat beans, nuts and seeds you'd be reading the true tales of an involuntary vegan (I do so love me some dairy) and I'd be exchanging recipes with long-haired folks (men and women alike) who smell ever so faintly of aging volkswagen bus and patchouli.

I want a cookie. a real cookie.


then I want to take a bath in chocolate.

real.dark.chocolate.



fuck. now I'm hungry...and horny.