All in a prodigal wine goblet*

I cannot remember the last time I just sat quietly on the couch with my laptop on my lap, with my kitty on my tummy and a nice glass of cheap red next to me on a slightly rickety while watching Aqua Teen Hunger Force and blogging about my day…

OK, I’ve never done all those things at the same time. But I am now, bitch!

Sorry, wine brings out the fiesty in me.

Shall I recap my day so I can focus all my wine fiestiness on something? Let me tell you though, as a side note, it’s really hard to write while watching the hilarity that is Aqua Teen. But I shall persevere! And not hit pause or anything. I also promise to actually review this post before publishing for any signs of…non-continuity. I should warn you, however, I’m about to get up and pour mama a second glass.

One thing people never warn you about when you become a parent: You will start referring to yourself in the third person. Like all the time. Even at work when people don’t need to hear, “Mama needs some coffee.” It’ll just come out and the really weird part is when you start mixing first and third person narrative.

All babies should wear turbans

Example:  Jonas has his first ear infection, which explains that crazy high ass fever my poor little boy had yesterday, and his Dr. gave him a prescription for ammoxacillan (which coincidentally, mama’s allergic to. Dammit! I did it again!). This morning I got him up and we both went to retrieve his medicine from the fridge. Then I brought it and him into his bedroom, got him all undressed so he wouldn’t get pink staining medicine all over himself or his changing table cover thing. After he was all undressed I got the little syringe thing full of pink stainy medicine, started to give it to him then for whatever reason I KNOCKED NEARLY AN ENTIRE BOTTLE OF PINK STAINY AMMOXOCILLAN ALL OVER HIS FREAKIN BEDROOM FLOOR. Then, in an amazing and Oscar Winning Performace for Not Cursing up a friggen storm I cleaned it up while muttering every non-curse word that leads up to the actual curse word which I then very skillfully muted until I finally had to let go: “DAMMIT!” I cried, “Jonas, you’re mama is an idiot. Why she couldn’t put the cap back on the bottle of medicine, I don’t know.”

Some day, when all you non-parents have your own children, you’ll do it too. And at first you won’t notice then BAM 3.5 years later, you’ll hate yourself for it.

And then your husband will admit that it bugs the shit out of him that you call the pacifier a “binky” or worse: “binky-binky”. When the hell and why the hell I started calling it a “binky-binky”, fuck knows.

That’s one thing new with Jonas baby-hood: My baby talk and silly voice using has gotten way out of control.

Wait. I was going to talk about today, not my odd parenting quirks that I’ve picked up.

OK, after the spilling of the medicine (which won’t be replaced because Big Bad Insurance Companies Suck Big Puss Filled Pimpled Mouse Balls) (It’s sad when you look up from your laptop to search for a good mammal to use in an insult and the only thing your eyes fall on is “An American Tail”) my day went pretty much as normal as possible: awesomness on my part interspursed with stupidness from other people at work while listening to a fantasticlly awesome playlist that my husband made for me (including The Herd, Cloud Cult, and Owl City), smelling something in the coffee/break room that reminded me of waffles which made some part of my brain demand waffles for dinner, searching for waffle recipes on allrecipes, then a drive home listening to NPR.

Then home. Home and awesomeness. This evening was one of those evenings all parents wish for every day. Jonas’ medicine is working, he was on some baby acetominophine and was being adorable. Jaden was just being sweet and cute and she’s got a cold so her voice is all froggy and stuff which makes everything she says that much cuter: For Jonas bath tonight we switched out the baby tub for a slightly larger inflatable model which used to be Jaden’s:

“When I was a baby I used that bath tub! You’re going to use it now, Jonas. You’re going to have fun in it, Jonas. When I was a baby, I used it and daddy washed me. And when I was a baby I cried and mommy gave me my bottle and I said, “……..”…. And that’s my story.”

Jaden and food from a different meal.

But before that we had dinner which consisted of the awesome waffles I was craving, scrambled eggs ala Matt, and hashbrowns which would’ve been perfect if I hadn’t left the stupid cover on the stupid skillet thing. Oh, and I also made some Cinnamon Honey Butter.

Ok, side note: Ssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssh….

I’m going to get a new lap top**. Ssh, don’t tell anyone. But when I do, I’m going to finally have a memory stick reader thingie right in the laptop (name and christianing TBA) and then I’ll be able to create real recipe/cooking posts with some state of the art ammature photos taken by yours truly: mama.

God, that last sentence makes me want to hit something. Where’s Polly?

Oh, I kid. She left me way back when I refilled my glass. Damn cat. What’s up with cats running out on you the second you move?

She really is a good kitty.  I talk smack but she’s all soft and squishy and lovely. And I bet if I were to go look for her, I’d find her curled up Jaden’s bed. She’s such a good cat that we feel so bad for being away from the house most of the day and leaving her all alone that we’re considering and will probably be getting a kitty.

Responsibility? Medical bills? Mortgage? PSH! KITTIES AND LAPTOPS! We’re stimulating the economy.

I almost said environment. Pretty sure throwing bags and bags of kitty poop out in some landfill isn’t good for the environment. However…cat’s gonna poop regardless of it’s in our litter box or someone else’s.

Well, this post got way the hell away from me.

Let’s see if I can get back on track. What was I talking about?

Doesn’t matter because poor Mr. Jonas is crying. –away I go to give him medicine and a bottle–

Night all!

You let him do this, mom.

You let him do this, mom.

**Jaden is getting Suzie. She’s already got three games installed on this thing. And she is over 3.5 years old now. It’s about time she got her own computer. What was I doing when I was three? Staring at a wall somewhere.

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4 Responses

  1. Yeah sure now i dont feel bad or anything that my 8 year old doesn’t have her own comp and now your 3.5 year old will…i win “Mommy sucks” competition for 09!

  2. Psh, keep in mind the only reason I have a lap top is because my girl, Tatum, got hosed by Geek Squad. This is the first “new” computer I’ve bought in nearly 10 years.

  3. ok ok i’ll give you that…my pc is only 3 years old because of the divorce 😛

  4. […] 23, 2009 in Uncategorized Best frickin’ idea EVER! Wine, Aqua Teen Hunger Force, PJs, random swarms of kitties (like random swarms of […]

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