Thanks, kid.


The Bean is really examining me as we are getting ready to bathe.

Mom, why do you have three poke-tattoos?

They’re just things that I liked so I got them.

Oh. Ok. How do you take off a poke-tattoo?

She calls them that after learning how tattoos are applied.

You can’t. Poke-tattoos aren’t removable like yours.

But Mom, what if you really wanted to take it off? How would you?

Well, one way is with lasers. But that could hurt and they don’t always come off.

Like with a laser gun?!

Her eyes were huge and she was very interested in this information.

Uh, yeah…like a laser gun.

Wow. Mom? I wouldn’t shoot your tattoos off even if I got to use a laser gun. I’d never want to make my beautiful Mom die accidentally with a laser gun.

Awww…thanks, honey. I appreciate that.

You know why, Mom? Because only you know how to turn on my t.v. shows. Dad doesn’t know how. He can’t run the remote and find my shows.

So this is my legacy.



Can You Hear Me Now?


I gave Sylvie her going-away gift the other night. I sang to her.

I am an awful singer. Awful doesn’t really to it justice. I am one of those people who couldn’t carry a tune in a bucket. I can’t even clap in time to music or chanting. I think I might really be a tone deaf. When Sweety and I met, 11 years ago – he got in my truck and remarked that the speaker to my radio was broken. I hadn’t realized it. I thought music had just gotten quieter so I’d been turning it up louder.

Anyhoo. Sylvie had been bugging me to sing for awhile after she’d noticed that I never sang along to the radio. (I do. Only when I’m alone in the car and the sound is cranked up loud enough so that I can’t hear myself.) It was dark in the car the other night and a song came on that I happened to know all of the words to so I let it fly.

After she had time to recover from the experience, Sylvie remarked that it “sounded like 27 cats being ran over on the freeway. But thank you, Aunt Anna for doing that for me.”

First trip to Buffalo Wild Wings

Hey! Did you guys know that it’s FREE to sign up for a Facebook account? Yeah, I thought you might. Guess who doesn’t or who has some kind of weird issue about taking advantage of said free service? The coaew. I guess she was creeping around on Facebook the other day and came across a profile that was using a photo of the boys and their little brother as its profile photo. The name on the profile was the same as her maiden name and a first name that she didn’t recognize. She sent Sweety a text freaking out over it and wanted to know if we could report it to Facebook. Uh. No. Not my photo. Not my freaking maiden name. Not my issue. She finally decided that maybe it was her estranged father. Why not make a profile and send the person a damned message if you’re concerned? Sheesh.

A sleeping Sweey tidbit…

Ow!

What’s wrong, Sweety?

I was killed in a video game but it’s ok. 500 points to my next man!



Right On Schedule


Sweet baby Hayzeus.

I think I’m drunk.

The Bean went to bed about 3 hours ago and I decided to drink some Woodchucks. I’m five in and toast. Damn.

We’ve finally gotten on a schedule with Bean and everything is running much more smoothly. Instead of getting texted photos from Sweety showing her face after she’s been crying for hours, I get photos of her happy after a nap. This keeps me from wanting to run from my desk at work after quitting my job and snatching the baby away from Sweety while telling him that he needs to get another job to support us all.

Sylvie turned 13 last weekend and we had a tiny party for her. (The next time she’s here, she’ll be turning 15. I told her she was having a party at home with a pinata. It was only our family, the neighbors and the girl she rides to school with but I thought I was going to explode trying to get everything together.) Photos here. Sweety took Bean on her first trip down a bowling lane. He sort of swung her like a meaty golf club while she kicked the bowling ball. That night, Sylvie asked if she could sleep with me since it was her birthday. I told her no but when I told Sweety that she asked, he went into BB’s room for the night so she could stay in ours. I will admit that it was great. This was taken the next morning when we were getting up.

Good bed buddies.

Today, Bean napped in her crib for the first time.

Untitled

I sat on Sylvie’s bed and watched her the whole time. Those bumps on her face? Bug bites or something. We don’t know where the hell they came from but they are getting better. I wince every time I look at them.

The real irony here is that she’s been in our bed the past several nights because I wanted her there and Sweety decided that he’s okay with it. The Bean? Not so much. She sleeps better in her own space and I know it’s selfish of me to put her in the bed with me just because I want to feed her while she sleeps and sniff her head. She sleeps in a Pack N Play thing in our room and tonight I took the bassinet part out of it and she’s sleeping in it in the bottom. Yeah, I may have teared up a little while putting the bassinet away.

She’s also started sitting up pretty good.

Using the small diapers one last time before they're put away.

Today I washed all of her small diapers because she’s outgrown them. I had a huge twinge of sadness the first time I strapped a bigger diaper onto her. I’m pretty sure that babies grow faster than anything else on the planet.

I know I need to start brushing her hair. It’s rather unkempt looking. I’m so used to it though. I brushed it tonight after she got out of the shower. She looked like Donald Trump.

Okay. I’m gonna poke one more baby photo down your throat and then leave.

This morning. She totally loses her shit in that toy.

Reeeeach!

Wow. You wouldn’t believe how much I love that baby.

Oh, wait! One more thing! More Sweety sleep talk!

Shit ass motherfuckers flying a kite.

What wrong with kites?

I dunno.

I think you’re jealous that you don’t have one.

Who cares? I have bananas!

The really funny part? Sweety hates bananas.



More From A Sleeping Sweety


First off, you need to know that we sometimes call Bean, “Sunnybadger”. Instead of honey badger because she has the tendency to be rather intense. When she’s happy? She’s happy. When she’s not happy, aka tired out of her little mind, she is on fire.

I get in bed the other night right after Sweety did but he had already passed out. He rolls over and starts talking.

We need to start a church.

Reeeally? Mmmhmm. Okay. What will we call it?

The Holy Worship of the Sunnybadger! Our Trinity will be Sunny, the honey badger and the cobra.

I don’t think that’s gonna go over too well.

Oh, it will! We will say, “Head, shoulders, knees, and toes” instead of The Father, Son, Holy Ghost thing.

Dude. You need to shut up and go back to sleep.

Then he said something about kites being scary and I put my earplugs in.