Monday, July 30, 2007

Painful Phasing

I'm having a real hard time with Kirk's preferential treatment of his father. It would be one thing if he just ignored me. But it's more than that. He refuses to sit in my lap even when Mr. b's not home. He wails when his Dada leaves for band practie or recording or a gig. "Mama no!" "No kisses!" "Mama leave!" "Mama go!" This weekend he actually tried to push me out of bed when we brought him in to sleep in with us. I left and went and bawled in the kitchen. It's hitting me way harder than the last time he was being mean.

I know it's just a phase. I know I should enjoy having the pressure lessened while he hangs on his dad. Mr. b makes a good point that I'll always be Mama, the comforter and care-giver, even when he's long grown past kisses on his owies. But I don't care. It hurts so much.

Friday, July 27, 2007

I Get So Emotional, Baby

I stayed home with Kirk on Wednesday. He just had a cold but I think he gets better quicker if he stays home and has a quiet day instead of being crazy at daycare. Plus it was nice to have an explanation for his extreme whininess of the previous couple of days. Dinner on Tuesday night he was so whiny we started making fun of him. We honestly thought his voice was going hoarse because of the constant whining! But when he went back to daycare on Thursday? Mr. b says that he freaked out and started crying, "Kirkie home!"

That sadness is a new thing. He's starting to feel more than just the base emotions like happy and mad or the physiological ones like hungry or tired. And it's just heartbreaking to see him genuinely broken up by things not going his way. But it's not like he can win every battle. Now's the time when kids are able to be spoiled. I don't think you can spoil them earlier because it's just basic needs. But if you give in just because he's got a sad face? Or because he's throwing a temper tantrum? Then he learns how get whatever he wants by being a total pain in the ass. And I refuse to fall into that trap because I hate getting ripped off. And that kind of manipulation definitely qualifies.

It still doesn't do anything to assuage my worry about what the future holds. If Kirk experiences that level of sadness now, when he's two, what's he going to be like when he's fifteen and every day is the end of the world? Teenage years are hard on anyone but boys are more likely to act on it. And lord knows his father was hugely depressed even into his twenties. I don't exaggerate when I say that there were countless times when I was afraid to come home from class or my student job because I honestly didn't know what I would find when I came in the door. I'm so thankful that Mr. b came out of that darkness and I just can't bear the thought of Kirk going through it, too.

For now, though, the worst that happens typically involves poop. While at home with him on Wednesday, Kirk had his hand down his pants, as usual.
Mama: What you diggin' for down there?
Kirk: (continues his excavation)
Mama: What are you playing with?
Kirk: Fingers.
Mama: What are your fingers playing with:
Kirk: Poop.
And then he pulled out a turd nugget and dropped it on the floor.

Tuesday, July 24, 2007


"Mama bra."

"One, two boobs."

Kirk can count to two. And he’s obsessed with my boobs. He grabs hold and gives me a titty twister when I hold him. For a short time he tried biting but thankfully that never caught on. He thinks he’s being hilarious though. I try to divert him from actually grabbing on and then he’ll lift up my shirt and try to tickle my belly to distract me. Cheeky monkey.

Wednesday, July 18, 2007

Sing, Sing a Song

Kirk has always been a very aural baby, really into music and sounds. Lately he's begun singing actual lyrics to the songs he knows. But he doesn't get in all the words, he'll only hit the high points. The cute thing about that is that he pauses, exactly long enough for the missing words to be sung, before he moves on to the next one.

T'inkle ... ... star
... wonder ... are
Up a' ... ...high
... di'mon' ... sky

It's frickin' adorable. His other favorite songs are Sing, Baa Baa Black Sheep, On Top of Spaghetti, and the Alphabet song.

And Yellow Submarine. He's obsessed with Yellow Submarine. He got a Beatles t-shirt from Angelmamma & Fam for his birthday so, since I was home with him the rest of the week, I decided to show him the movie Yellow Submarine. I hadn't actually watched it in years. Wow. Crazy madness. Such a drug trip. Which was the point, of course, but holy cow. I didn't think he'd really pay that much attention since it's so bloody long with lots of bizarre filler between actual plot elements and songs. But he loved it. Loved. He asks to watch it all the time. He knows the names of all the Beatles now (Ringo is his favorite) and has noticed the Beatles poster we have hanging in the garage porch and the "Hard Day's Night" record cover jigsaw puzzle we have framed and hanging in the stairway. It's awesome. We're both so proud.

Of course once his Papa finds out, he'll have to start brainwashing him over to the Rolling Stones. Heh. My dad's always been a Stones guy over the Fab Four. I suppose we can always show Kirk The Rock and Roll Circus DVD we gave him next time we're up at Nana & Papa's house. Lord knows that's plenty psychadelic, too.

Tuesday, July 10, 2007

Poor Kitty

Sally’s not getting better. It’s been over a year since we got Chloe and she’s still completely bonkers and hiding and not using the box and barely eating. She was semi-fine in the basement living room if we kept the door latched. Yet even then she rarely came out from under the bed. And the door didn’t stay closed all the time because it’s not her room, it’s our room dammit! We’ve evicted her a few times over the past year but she always seems to end up back in there. I feel sorry for her crazy ass and let her go back in. But it was starting to reek of catshit from her crapping under the bed whenever she was too chicken to go the three feet to her catbox. So we evicted her when we were staying down there while my in-laws were visiting. It seemed like she was better for a little while. She even came part of the way up the stairs! And then she started hiding. I would find her behind a box or under a desk or on top of my sewing basket or under a table and sure enough, there would be a pile of turds right next to her. She even pissed all over the old iMac! I’d clean it all up, put her back into her box in the laundry room, stop up the access to the space, rinse and repeat. Right now she’s been sitting in the laundry room sink. I don’t know if she’s moved out of there for a couple of days. She’s not the kitty that I used to know and love. She’s an empty shell.

I can’t blame Chloe though. It’s not her fault. Sally was like this before but hid it better. When you live in a one bedroom apartment it’s easier to overlook the fact that she’s never in the same room as Smoe; she’s just sleeping in the bedroom! But the truth is, she can’t live with other cats. And we would’ve gotten another cat eventually. I’m sure the only reason she was fine with Tron is that she could sense he was dying.

Sally has really brought this upon herself. We did everything right to introduce those two cats to each other. But she chose to let her hate consume her. I don’t know why I should’ve expected any other fate for a Sith lord. So now I have to call a vet and find out if they think she can be rehabilitated. I have to keep hope that she’ll be fine in a house without any other cats. With a patient human that will care for her and not have the distractions of a two year old son. She’s only ten; she’s got a lot of years ahead of her. But I’m terrified that the answer will be that Xenoba cannot be turned from the dark side. I’ve never had to bring a pet in for *that* reason before.

Video Rage

Mercurial Rage has a video for one of the songs off their new CD, The Funeral Sessions! Check out Mr. b's mutton chops.

I'm wearing a fur coat.

Monday, July 02, 2007


Kirk's golden birthday was today and we had his party yesterday.

Mmmm, frosting.

Yay frosting!

Ooh hey, more cake!

Cousins are fun.

Kirk had both sets of grandparents at his birthday party.

Aunties are good for winding down after a full day of craziness. I'm pretty sure he had a massive sugar hangover today.