Last week, once the Puke ended and before Justin came home from Alaska, the kids and I would get home from work/school and I’d pour a bowl of Cheerios start dinner, feed Cooper, then Gavin and I would eat.  Meanwhile, I’d have the radio turned onto 94.7 The Globe…it has a nice range of music styles on it and good for bopping around the kitchen.  Keeps the kids entertained and not focused on their hunger, and I can pretend to be the best semi-sober singer/dancer in the world.  If Gavin’s being a particularly pillish stinker, he’ll holler things like "no zing-ing!  no daaaan-sing!"  I usually ignore him and keep doing what I’m doing until he flips his lid (we’ve already established that I feed my kids junk food and pump them full of TV; purposely irritating shouldn’t be a surprise).

Well, this particular night, The Donnas song, Dancing With Myself was playing and I was singing along and doing my best British faux-punk dance while setting dinner on the table.  As usual, Gavin got annoyed with me.

• G:  Mommy, ‘top daaan-sing!
• M:  Come on, Buddy…don’t you want to dance with me? (singing) oh-oh-oh-oh
• G:  Noooooo!
• M:  Fine…I’m okay with that (singing and dancing again) cuz I’m-a-just-a dancin’ wi’ my-sel-lf oh-oh-oh-oh!

Gavin takes one look at me and starts laughing.  And I start laughing because I literally saw the lightbulb turn on over his head when he realized what I was singing at him was the words to the song playing on the radio.  I think he was also laughing at my ridiculous dancing skillz. 

And to think, that’s how I ensnared trapped attracted his father in the first place. 

Now that we’re into decent roll-down-the-windows weather while driving, I’ve compiled a list, in no particular order, of songs you should NOT have playing on your stereo while driving, or you may feel your right foot getting heavier and heavier, causing you to speed and risk getting a ticket. Not that I’m speaking from experience.

Ahem.

1. All My Life by the Foo Fighters
2. 25 or 6 to 4 by Chicago
3. Like a Stone by Audioslave (when they modulate up towards the end? whoa! got chills just thinking about Chris Cornell’s voice…he makes my knees quiver!)

   

4. Play that Funky Music by Wild Cherry
5. Paralyzer by Finger Eleven
6. This Ain’t a Scene, It’s an Arms Race by Fall Out Boy
7. California Love by Tupac
8. Hella Good by No Doubt
9. Canned Heat by Jamiroquai
10. Killing in the Name by Rage Against the Machine
11. Higher Ground by the Red Hot Chili Peppers
12. Vasoline by the Stone Temple Pilots
13. Harder to Breathe by Maroon 5 (and Adam Levine makes it harder for me to breathe…whoo!  the HOTness!  And uh, actually Justin used to look a lot like this when he was younger…that might explain the attraction)

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Maybe you noticed in the past couple weeks I’ve been a real crab. Or depending on your tolerance, a whiny bitch. Whatever. I’m comfortable with myself enough to embrace my pity-parties and recognize what a pain in the tush I can be. Besides my husband who’s legally obligated to put up with me, none of you fine folks need to. But you do. And you have been this whole time that I’ve been moaning and groaning and I appreciate that a whole heckuva lot. I try not to air all my dirty laundry because my parents read this, possibly a few of my co-workers (because I’m stupid bold enough to have vanity plates), and some other friends (um, would it kill any of you to leave a comment once in a while? dang lurkers…don’t make me chase down your IPs now!). Not that I’m saying anything bad about any of them, but there are some things in your life, in your head, in your heart, that you generally need to keep to yourself. Unless you know that no one who sees you on a constant basis is going to read these deepest darkest thoughts and feelings…ah, the anonymity of the Interwebs….

Well, to make a long story short (“too late!”), while you have seen some whiny crap pouring forth, that’s actually just the more superficial stuff bugging me. But all the support, love, humor, and responses back to me (comments/emails) has really meant a LOT to me because it’s helped me deal with the stuff on the surface so that I have more strength to deal with the other deeper things. I don’t feel so spread-out, so overwhelmed, or so helpless. I truly appreciate all of you and your words of encouragement. I don’t know that I could ever put into words what it really means to me…so I’ll stick with the words I know: Thank you very much from the bottom of my heart.

Speaking of bottoms:

Who’da thunk my baby could have a bigger butt and thighs than my nearly four-year old???

(photo courtesy of Justin)

Thoughtful, bookish Cooper

Playful Cooper imitating the dog

Sullen Rock-Star Cooper

A moose Justin brought home from Alaska

Wow. Ten freakin’ months!

This time (2:25pm) 10 months ago I was laying in a hospital freaking out because the nurse was having trouble finding Cooper’s heartbeat with the monitor…didn’t help that she ran out of my room hollering for my assigned nurse with a very distinct note of panic in her voice. Turns out he was flying under the radar because he was ready to jump out; he was born less than an hour later.

In the last month he has learned and unlearned the sign for “more”, and fluently uses the sign for “all done”…he does it with food, drinks, and people. He recognizes the sign for “eat” and “drink” but hasn’t used them yet. In the past few weeks, I started using the sign for bath, so we’ll see if he picks that up as quickly as Gavin did (they both LOVE bathtime…together).

He laughs back and forth with Gavin (who is a FANTASTIC big brother, I might add), and loves his daddy (always a BIG smile for daddy). He finally figured out how to crawl forwards and in the 10 short days that he’s been crawling, he even got that wonky right leg to coordinate better and increased his speed. Just in the last week he’s figured out how to pull himself up in his crib and the coffee table. And thankfully, when I can barely stand chasing him anymore, he tolerates sitting in his exersaucer or high chair a while and wiggles to the music (or laughs at my incredibly ridiculous dancing skillz; Gavin on the otherhand, just screams “NO DANCING!”). He loves the songs “I’m a Little Teapot” and the Talking Head’s “Stay Up Late”. Or anything from my “100% Funk” cds (I have vols. 1 & 2).

We’ve tried some stage-3 foods, but he still likes to gag and yak up the food. After Pukefest 2008, I’m a little tired of vomit flying at my face (he inherited his father’s penchant for projectile vomiting), so those jars of lumpy food have been sent to the back of the pantry for a few more weeks. He does do alright with banana, as long as I make sure he doesn’t sneak three or more pieces in his mouth at one time.

Considering he’s a rather high-maintenance baby, he’s still one of the happiest kids in his infant class. Although it probably helps that he’s not teething. Nope. We don’t believe in teeth in our house. Teeth are for other folks. I think it also helps that he can be trusted to play on the floor when younger babies are there because he doesn’t beat up on them, crawl over them, and is very gentle when he does decide to touch them. So in light of his gentleness, he’s allowed unlimited playtime with the toys and rarely gets relegated to an exersaucer or his crib. It warms my heart to hear he’s so sweet and gentle with everyone.

I will post pics later…I forgot the camera card at home.