A Few Reasons Why It is Not A Good Idea to Have Dogs While Trying to Teach a Toddler to be Human

Because it is hard to explain to you that it is OK for mommy to throw all your leftover eggs to the dogs but it is NOT OK to throw ALL your breakfast to the dogs. Cause this makes mommy want to fall on the dog-licked kitchen floor, curl into a fetal position, and bawl for the remainder of the morning.

Because it is really cute when you pretend to help mommy clean up chihuahua pee off the carpet(writing this, I realize it doesn't sound cute at all but you'll have to trust that it is heart-gushingly cute) but it is not a good idea to pee on the carpet yourself and then clean it up. This, in my opinion, is heart-gushingly cute too but I am trying to teach you to be a human being not a neurotic chihuahua and I think I might be losing the battle.

Because I need to teach you to eat off human dishes not out of dog bowls which is much more appealing to you. Retrieving you from your head in a dog dish is not my finest parenting moment.

Because while I find it hilarious that you like to say hi poop!!! to dog poop when you see it on the ground, others might find this disturbing and it could make you socially awkward.

Because while I secretly agree with you that it is pathetically funny when the chihuahua bears his teeth and snaps, it is not nice to torment the poor old curmudgeon just for a laugh.

Because a bit of healthy fear of large animals might be a good idea and since you enjoy getting licked from head to toe by the largest dog known to mankind, it is difficult to explain to you that the pit bull on the corner isn't so friendly which often leads to you falling to the dirty sidewalk screaming to the sky and kicking my shins because I am the meanest mommy in the world because I don't allow the dog to chew off your fingers through the fence.

My Daughter, Rock Thrower

If rock throwing was an Olympic sport, Nola would win the Gold.


She would.

She's a champion.

What Happened to Life, Liberty, and the Pursuit of Happiness?

There is no pretty or poetic way to put this. Our finances suck. We are teetering on the edge of a financial abyss and we are not sure where the bottom is. And it SUCKS. Is it my fault because I "chose" to stay home with Nola? And I put "choose" in parenthesis because it wasn't really a choice as much as a necessity and the right thing for all of us but most importantly, the right thing for Nola. The fact is, I don't think I am to blame or should be blamed or should feel guilty (even though guilt certainly creeps into my head and heart often) because I know I made the right decision to stay at home with my child. She is happy and healthy and thriving and I don't think she would be the same child if she was away from me twelve hours a day and often more than that. My job was so far away from home. I just couldn't be that far from her. To me, it would have been irresponsible and cruel.



But I can't help being angry. We were the couple that did all the right things. I worked a job that wasn't "me" but it was stable and provided over half our income. We invested wisely. Paid our monumental student loans on time. Paid off credit card debt. Waited to have kids. Where did it get us? If I have any regrets, it is wasting all that time doing "the right things" when it didn't matter anyway. I wasted so many years in a job that took a little of my soul every day and driving a commute that I am pretty certain took years off my life. And all for naught. It is so demoralizing.

That said, I don't think I would change anything. Our successes and failures, our decisions good and bad, led us to Nola.

Object Permanence Sucks

Nola has always been a little ahead of the curve, but the terrible two's at 10 months? Nola wants everything she sees and when/if she doesn't get it she has begun screaming following by whining to full on crying approaching TANTRUM status--falling to the ground, fists clenched, arms flailing.

And her memory is sharp. Distraction? Not for Nola. I had a Buddha statue atop my dresser. He is made of wood, heavy and holding a bowl with a sharp non baby friendly edge. When she noticed it a couple months ago, she began her "eh eh" hand waving in its direction. Buddha? You want Buddha? And I brought it down for her and showed her how to rub his wonderfully fat belly though she preferred to rub his head. From then on, it was "Ba Ba" when she saw him. Then she hit her head on his hard wooden head while trying to give him a kiss and got an wicked bruise on her forehead so it was bye bye Buddha. But she still knows that he is supposed to be there perched atop my dresser.

Yup, object permanence sucks. The Wet Ones wrapper I left on the table? She wants it. My cup of coffee? She wants it. The junk mail? She wants it. And won't forget about it. This has left me in a parenting quandary between safety and satisfaction. If I am watching would it be so bad for her to play around with the nursing pads? I mean, I know it says choking hazard and YOUR CHILD WILL DIE IF SHE TOUCHES THIS BOX right there on the package. But seriously, I AM RIGHT THERE WITH HER. And it satisfies her for the moment and so what? Am I screwing myself? Probably.




By the way, I am in the market for a more baby-friendly Buddha. Any thoughts?

Joy

Are You Ready?

People keep asking me if I am ready. The baby's room? Ready enough. The hospital bag? Thinking about it. Birth? It's not really up to me. A baby? Well, My boobs and diapers will be the most important things at first, so I guess I am as ready as I can be at this point.

Oh, and the carseat. We have the carseat. Though it is not in the car yet.

You Can Always Blame the Parents

Despite her immense wealth and privilege, I feel bad for Paris Hilton. She is not entirely a monster of her own making. Certainly, she contributed to her persona, but her parents are there every step of the way. Did they cut off her monthly check when the sex tape surfaced or the tape of her getting high and using the big N? Oh hell no they didn't. And you know why? They are participants in her celebrity. They feed off of it as much as the paparazzi and you and me. Did you see how her daddy jumped the seat of the SUV when she was released from jail so Paris could have the good tabloid view or how her mother rolled down the window so all the sleazy photographers could get their shot in?

An acquaintance of mine taught Paris in middle school. She told to me that at one point during the year, she called Kathy Hilton into a conference because Paris was not doing any work required for the class. She said that Kathy responded that Paris would be making money off her looks and not her brains. And then, at sixteen her parents apparently condoned her moving to NY to be a model. So I believe Paris when she says she wants to drop the dumb blonde act. The problem is that behind the dumb blonde is just another dumb blonde--and she can thank her parents for that.