Mother Hoodwink

Bitch be crazy, Yo!

So I got a little email notification saying I had a comment on a recent post of mine. I went to my site to check it out. Oh my fucking God! At first I wasn't sure if it was spam or not and quite honestly, I'm still not sure. They were at my site for about ten minutes and chose to comment on a post that's about a month old. It doesn't seem like a normal robot comment. Sitemeter tells me that they are from San Mateo, California but when I looked up the i.p. address it says they were from New York. So either the i.p. address looker upper is wrong, Sitemeter is wrong or this person is trying to use an i.p. address masking program.

You can go here to look at it. But beware, to get to the end of it, you will scroll so much your fingers may just fall off.

This person talks a lot about "the Gods" and says something about the country going downhill after women won the right to vote. This person doesn't leave out the blacks and gays either. Fucking nutball.

I'm not even sure what this person's point is. To be fair, I didn't even read it all. I read parts and it seems like it's saying the same things those people that protest outside of soldiers' funerals say.

The few snippets I did read seem to be ridiculously contradictive. Kind of funny in a very sad way.

I just wanted to share the looney. If you actually get through the whole thing, tell me what the fuck Jane gets credit for the heart attack, right (Who, by the way, was too much of a pussy to leave a real email address.) was trying to get across to me, will ya? Thanks!

Why do neighbors suck?

We have these new neighbors that are... weird. They seem nice enough but there is just something off with them. They have two little girls that are to say the least, fucking annoying. I hate to think bad of children because at such a young age, it's the parents' fault if they're bad, not the child's. But still, they're fucking annoying. They're around ages six and eight. They are constantly running through our front lawn screaming in front of our living room window and while I can get over that since kids will just be kids, it gets old when it's everyday all day. Even when it's raining. That's when they get completely naked and run through the yard. Making sure to leave their underwear on our driveway for days on end. I think these girls are a little old to be running around naked outside. I have such disdain for these kids and I feel bad about that considering I'm currently in school to be an elementary teacher. I should like all kids, right?

The night before we left for our vacation we were outside in the driveway packing the car up. Our neighbors happened to be sitting outside as we packed. It was already ten and we had to get up at five the next morning to leave. We told them we were leaving early but that didn't stop them from talking to us and making a ten minute car packing session into forty. While they talked to us, the oldest daughter went up to our front door which was left open. She stared through the screen door into our house for quite a long time before I asked her if she needed something. Then she went on to touch and tug on all of the plants on our front porch. I knew at eight to be courteous of people. I knew not to be rude and stare into their house and play with all the stuff on their front porch. Ugh.

The neighbors mentioned that they could babysit anytime we needed it. That maybe we could switch off and they could watch Boomba for a night and the next time we could watch their girls. Uh, no thanks. I've made a rule that I'm not leaving Boomba with strangers until he can defend himself or at least tell on someone who hurts him. So probably around three. Even then, I'm not leaving him with our neighbors. We figured that we'll just never ask them to watch Boomba and tell them we're busy if they ask us to watch their kids.

The night before we left, the dad of the family had asked Dim over and over if we would like him to mow our lawn while we were gone. Dim told him each time that it wouldn't be necessary. The base housing office knew we were going out of town so they wouldn't ticket us for having an overgrown lawn. The guy insisted and said he enjoyed mowing the lawn. Dim again told him no. We just didn't want to be in their debt and feel obligated to watch their kids.

We got back from our vacation and saw that our lawn had been mowed. The next day Dim thanked the guy for mowing our lawn and his response, "No problem. My wife was the one who did it." What!? That really made us feel like crap. This guy went on and on about how he enjoyed lawn work and even though we told him not to mow it, he gets his wife to do it. WTF!?

I don't care. I'm not babysitting those crazy little girls.

Update: The six year old just rang our doorbell. Not just once but over and over and over until I came to the door. I had just put Boomba down for his nap twenty minutes ago and of course he just woke up from all the noise. To think with all that ringing, it must have been important, right? Not so much. I opened the door and she stood there for a few seconds until I asked her if she needed something. "Where is Winnie's backpack?" Who the fuck is Winnie? I told her I didn't know and she said that she didn't either. I then told her to go ask her mom. What the fuck!? Fucking bad parents. Teach your kids some damn respect! I am way too hormonal to be dealing with this bullshit.

Terrible Ones

Yesterday was a milestone for Boomba. He had his first real I'm-going-butt-ass-crazy-tantrum.

Whenever Boomba hurts himself he immediately looks at Dim and me to see if we just saw how he almost just killed himself by accidentally falling onto his toy truck. Sometimes we don't look away fast enough and Boomba will see that we in fact saw everything and he will begin to wail. Usually we'll tell him how we saw it wasn't that bad and he is going to be ok. Other times we just ignore him.

Yesterday he had fallen and bumped his head on a table leg. He didn't wait for my reaction and started to scrunch up his face for a few seconds while his lungs filled up as much as they could and then he cried. Loudly. I picked him up and kissed his head. He stopped crying and laughed when I tickled him. Great, he's fine.

I set him down and he flipped the fuck out. He threw himself to the floor and lied there pounding his feet and screaming. Who is this kid? This most definitely isn't my little boy.

I ignored it as best as I could without knocking myself out completely. After a few moments when Boomba realized that he needed to up his game to get my attention, he began to spin. While screaming. His head stayed in the same spot and he scooted his whole body in circles. As if I had my own damn human clock on my living room floor. He did this for about a minute and a half. Did I mention he was screaming? He started to hyperventilate and I couldn't resist anymore. I scooped him up and calmed him down. I had just changed his poopy diaper before this all began but I went and changed it again because apparently imitating clocks causes you to lose your bowels.

I'm still recovering. I only rocked in the corner for a few minutes before Boomba got so tired from screaming and fell asleep.

That's how we roll.

I found this motorized solar system thing the other day.

I showed it to Dim and he immediately loved it. I wanted to get it for Boomba but all the overhead lighting in our bedrooms are ceiling fans. I guess it could still work but the main light in the fan is made up of three smaller lights instead of one larger, sun like, light. The only light in our house that this mobile would look good with is in our dining room.

So after a brief discussion about how we don't care what people think because it's cool, we ordered this mobile. Now mealtimes can be educational even if we do look a little kooky.

Oh.My.God!

Out of nowhere Boomba has started taking naps in his crib. We usually have to rock and hold him for his naps. So anywhere from two to four hours of my day are spent holding a sleeping baby.

Ever since Boomba was about four months old, we tried to introduce a security item to him. I think we went through four of them. None of them took. It was well established that I was his security item.

A couple of months ago I was at Target and thought I would get Boomba a cute stuffed animal for Valentine's Day. Boomba sat in the cart as I picked one out. I found a cute stuffed frog and showed it to Boomba to see if he would like it. He giggled incessantly whenever I got it close to him. I threw it in the cart and saved it for Valentine's.

After we gave it to him, he played with it constantly. He loved it. We thought it would be a good idea to start giving it to him at night. It took about three nights and all of a sudden, all he needed to go to sleep was his stuffed frog. He started sleeping through the night again. This could also be because he hasn't been currently teething. Either way, I'm glad he's sleeping.

After about a month of having Boomba sleep with his frog, I decided one day to just put him in his crib for his nap. Just to see if he would just go to sleep. I know. Crazy. Well to my astonishment, it worked. He didn't go to sleep immediately. Instead he sat in his crib quietly and played with his fish aquarium for about thirty minutes. Then he just laid down, snuggled his frog and slept for an hour and a half! Who is this child? I tried this again for his afternoon nap and the same thing happened! I'm almost sure the apocalypse is coming.

When Dim got home I told him about Boomba napping. He asked me what I did with my new free time. I replied, "Duh. What every mother experiencing this for the first time does. I kept running back to his bedroom and peeking at him. Oh and I took pictures."

Boomba only uses a binky to go to sleep. He's not interested in them when he's not sleepy. I'm guessing it's because it gets in the way when he's shoving random crap found under the couch into his mouth. Yesterday morning I was on the couch checking my email when I feel this light little pat on my arm. I looked up and saw Boomba with a binky in his mouth staring up at me. He must have found a binky that was probably hidden amongst his toys. I swear I haven't seen this binky for at least two weeks.

So let me get this straight. He went from having tantrums and falling on the floor in a crying heap when tired to popping a binky in his mouth and calmly letting me know with a gentle pat, that he was ready for a nap? WTF?

I find it hard to believe that this stuffed frog changed everything. I mean it didn't right? This has to be a coincidence. Maybe it's because he's getting older. His first birthday is next month after all.

It's been four days of Boomba taking his naps in his crib. I guess this is how it will be. I have to say it's bittersweet. I'm so happy that he has enough independence to sleep by himself in broad daylight and without being jostled at all. But I'd be lying if I said I don't miss holding him close to me and listening to him breathe. I may be more upset, though, that a ratty frog has replaced me as Boomba's security item.

Bring our boys home!

We live on a military base. Usually speed limits on military bases are ridiculous. The base we live on now isn't as bad as the base we used to live on in New Orleans. In some places the speed limit was five. Five. As in one, two, three, four, FIVE! There isn't even a five on my speedometer. Not even a hash mark where a five should be. Believe me when I say that you could get pulled over for going eight. Three over seems to be the rule. If you get pulled over, most likely you will be getting a ticket.

These tickets don't mean anything to the real world. When you're a driver on a military base, you get so many points a year. Every ticket cost a couple of points. When you run out of points, you lose driving privileges on the base. I think you only lose privileges until the year is over. So if you're going to get a bunch of tickets, do it in December.

Because most of our security is stationed in Iraq, (Boo! Bring them home!) we have contracted security guards that we lovingly call rent-a-cops. Rent-a-cops usually have the attitude that they are The Shit. The other night Dim was pulled over for going 35 in a 25. This was on one of those roads that is only a mile long but has 25 mph sign on one end and a 35 mph sign on the other end. Dim just went 35 too soon.  So of course he was pulled over and ticketed.

Dim pulled off to the side of road on the grass. Actually it was dirt since so many cars are pulled over on this road. When the rent-a-cop came to Dim's window we explained that we had a carload of groceries in the trunk and we needed to get home to feed our son who was fussing in the back seat. We thought that if we explained our situation, he would give us a break. It was worth a shot. We apparently didn't shoot well enough since Dim got the ticket.

Because cops somehow learn how to take FOREVER when writing a ticket, we sat for a long time waiting for the cop to come back to give Dim his doom. Boomba fussed for a little while but it soon turned into whining, which quickly turned into screaming. I went in the back and unbuckled Boomba from his car seat and brought him upfront with me so I could nurse him. I asked Dim which boob  the cop would see more of. I wanted to make sure I made him feel uncomfortable. Just my way of sticking it to The Man. I was thinking of "accidentally" squirting him but I thought that would be pushing it.

The cop finally came back with Dim's ticket and told us to have a nice night. Would have been nicer without this little encounter, jerk. He went back to his car and flashed his lights for us to go. Because Boomba was still up front nursing with me, Dim didn't go anywhere. When the cop realized that we weren't leaving, he told Dim to leave over his loudspeaker. Dim yelled out his window that the baby wasn't in his car seat. The cop gets out of his car, comes up to Dim's window and tells him, and I quote: "I know she's nursing the baby. You can drive up into the closest parking lot. I'll follow you." To which I replied: "What?! We can't go ten over but we can drive with a baby in the front seat attached to my boob?!" Dim told the cop that he didn't feel safe driving with the baby out of his car seat. Clearly he is better with words than I am in the heat of the moment.

The rent-a-cop explained that he wasn't allowed to leave until he made sure we got back into traffic safely. I looked at the two-lane road with a speed limit of TWENTY FIVE and saw that we were the only cars on it. Yes, we may need your assistance getting back into that clusterfuck of traffic. Thanks. Boomba finished eating shortly after and we pulled away. We drove to the nearest parking lot just to see how long this cop would have us drive with a baby in the front seat. It was about a half a mile. Not too far away but far enough for a baby not in his car seat. So as you can see, we need the war to end so we can bring home our real military security.

Government Cheese and Head Lice

Because Dim is in the military, there is quite a bit of his income that is non taxable. Such as our housing and food allowance and his uniform allowance. So when we file taxes, on paper it looks like we make a lot less than we actually do. Because of this we qualify for WIC. WIC is a government program that pays for baby formula and food for children and breastfeeding mothers.

Dim's superiors kept stressing to him that it would save us a lot of money and we should sign up. I'm what one would call proud. Dim calls it stubborn but I digress. I didn't want to do this. We aren't struggling by any means to put food on the table. I felt like we would be taking advantage of the system if we signed up. Dim pointed out that there is no limit on how much they can give out and if anything we're making sure the system gets used so the government will give more money to the program. I couldn't argue with that. I would hate for the program to lose money and not be able to help people that really need it.

So last week we went into our local state clinic to sign up. I was not ready for what I saw when we opened the door. As soon as we walked in a little boy ran out with his mother not far behind chasing him. It was a fucking zoo. There were children EVERYWHERE. Dim and I grabbed two seats in the back and filled out some paperwork. Now this next part may make me sound like a snob, but it's not my intention at all. It took us two hours to go through the whole process of paperwork and Boomba and I getting our blood tested and a little meeting with a nutritionist and then some more paperwork. I had a lot of time to do one of my favorite activities. People watch. I listened in on conversations and imagined what everyone's stories were. People always marvel at my patience. Trust me I'm not patient. I'm just being too nosy to notice that it's taking sixty seven fucking hours to get though whatever I'm trying to do.

I noticed that the woman next to me had a fourteen month old daughter and she was still in an infant carrier car seat. I felt bad that she didn't have enough money to make sure her child was safe. Then I noticed all of her jewelry and that her nails were done. I overheard her talking about her son's dad buying her all kinds of expensive gifts. Behind the help desk there was a sign that talked about free car seats to those who needed them. I know she wasn't taking advantage of that since I heard her say she was just getting her daughter shots that day. That lady kind of pissed me off.

There was another woman who had the hardest time keeping her two young children from running around the waiting room. Her son kept hitting other kids and when the mother would see, she would smack him. Gee, I wonder where he learned how to hit?

Another woman had her thirteen month old and her two month old children sitting in her lap. At one point the two month old was asleep on his mother's chest and the thirteen month old was lying across her mother's lap. The oldest was moving her leg and her mother smacked her behind and told her to stop moving because she would wake her brother. The girl started to cry. Loud. Did the mom think that the crying wouldn't wake her newborn?

After awhile the lady with the car seat issues and the lady with the newborn and toddler struck up a conversation with me. They were nice women. The car seat lady asked me if I had seen the "Mexican family." How could I have not? They had five children and they were running around everywhere playing with toys that belonged to other kids and eating snacks that parents' were trying to give to their children. Car seat lady explained that those children had lice. I asked her how she knew and she said she saw the mother picking them out of the oldest child's head. My head began to itch immediately. I'm so happy that I didn't have any toys they were interested in and that I wasn't doling out snacks. Dim thinks that Car Seat Lady was mistaken since he never saw any evidence of kids with lice. Still. I'm thankful they didn't come near me.

After all that hoopla we had a meeting with a nutritionist. Because I'm breastfeeding I get compensated for my food. He asked me what I had eaten the day before. I had mentioned that I had a granola bar for a snack and he scoffed and said, "candy." When I explained that it was organic and there was no sugar in it and mentioned how it had almonds and flaxseed, he scoffed again and said. "Ok, organic candy." Condescending fucktard. If he's a nutritionist then he should know there are such products out there. I didn't like that guy. I was asked how much formula Boomba went through a month. Boomba is nine months old and since he's been born, he's gone through three cans. So I had no answer. I told him one can a month would be plenty. We got vouchers for eight cans a month. The vouchers come in four can quantities. We could just get one can and use a four can voucher, but we got all four cans. I'll find someone to give them to.

Along with the formula vouchers we got vouchers for baby cereal and juice. My vouchers give me five gallons of milk a month, two boxes of cereal, so many ounces of cheese, four bottles of juice and a bunch of other stuff that I can't remember. When we cashed the vouchers in, including the formula, the total was almost hundred dollars. As great as it was to have all that food for free, I still feel icky about it. Even more so when I think about our cable/internet bill and know that we spend more on that then what the people in that clinic spend on food. I think I'm done with the government cheese.