kdiddy.org

…but I think I deserve a Drink.

Today was stressful, but it’s over. Thank dog.

I’ve been meaning to mention that our fish did finally kick the bucket the other night. It happened some time on Tuesday night and the husband noticed that he had flitted off this mortal coil while I was putting the baby to bed. We briefly debated over whether or not to tell him right away, but figured that since the fish had some serious nastiness going on, leaving him in the tank for a day might result in some traumatizing unpleasantness. So we broke the news and had a quick little fish funeral. The baby wanted to be the one to actually flush the toilet so we let him do that. After the fish was finally gone, the baby started crying and, well, that was really sad.

My thoughts were all disjointed the next day and while I was gushing to a co-worker about the baby’s new reading skills, she asked me if I had given him any kind of present. I said, “Oh, well, his fish died right after so he got to flush him down the toilet.” Like that was his reward. Hi, I’m Mommie Dearest.

I seriously don’t know why I speak sometimes.

The baby is reading. Like, actually reading sentences in a story book. This is a really cool milestone. Really cool. I am all a-grin.

Also whoa: I has too many limbs.

Yeah, I’m pretty sure our fish is done for.

Betting on the possibility that the swelling was just constipation, we cleaned out his tank last night and put some epsom salts in the clean water. But once I had taken the fish out and had him in a cup while the new water was getting to the right temperature, I got to take a look at him from above and saw that his scales were raised. According to the few sites that talk about betta illnesses, that’s a Very Bad Sign.

I took some pictures of him just for documentation. We told the baby to say goodbye.

This morning the fish was still hanging on, though he was sort of curled in a corner and not moving very much at all. I feel really bad for him since it looks so uncomfortable and I’m so worried that he’s in a ton of pain.

The baby is taking the impending loss pretty well. When we initially told him that the fish was probably going to be dying very soon, he cried. But over the weekend he’s been focused on just being very nice to the fish, drawing him pictures to be placed by the tank and offering to drop pennies into the water (we quashed that gesture). He knows it’s coming and is sure to tell the fish that he’s loved and will be missed.

But this whole episode has, not surprisingly, exacerbated the baby’s fears about death…specifically my death. I’m not sure when exactly he caught wind of the fact that every living thing someday dies, including moms, but it’s been a struggle ever since. I’m stuck somewhere between wanting to be honest with him and not wanting to see him upset. We’ve touched on concepts like heaven but I’ve told him that no one knows for sure what happens when you die and when he’s gone down the list of people he loves to find out if they will all have the same fate I’ve told him the truth.

I’ve also told him that death scares me sometimes too and it’s perfectly natural and good to be at least a little afraid. I don’t feel comfortable slipping into religious explanations because I don’t really believe them and it doesn’t seem fair to assuage his fears by telling him something I don’t think is true…or really that will ultimately let him down when he gets older and more cynical.

I don’t know. I don’t want to make it sound like an obsession. It’s not like it’s death 24/7 at our house. But he gets really upset by the fact that I am going to die which I totally understand. Hell, I’m 29 and I’m still paralyzed when I think about the fact that my mom will die someday.

But I wouldn’t mind if he just kinda laid off every once in awhile. On my birthday we had a relatively cheerful discussion of the things that he will place in my coffin when I die (ie, drawings, toys, etc.).

But I kinda felt like, “Hey, could we NOT discuss my mortality right now since I’ve just taken a step closer to it? Thanks.”

I am suffering from some cramps and coming down off of a busy, busy day. So no real content (which is a change from…?) but I will give you a picture that shows off my pumpkin-carving prowess.

I did the vampire (used a stencil, obviously), the husband did the deranged, pointy-teeth creature.

I should have gotten a better picture of the face paint that I put on the baby. I kind of just slapped it on there so it was all patchy. I think it looked authentic.

…because I’m a little busy and that post deserves some detail.

I will tell you that Halloween was pretty rad. I’ll post some pictures tomorrow or something.

The baby looked cool but did have to clarify that he was Godzilla many times.

Trick-or-treating went much better this year. Last year he started whining about having to walk so much (the hell?) after about half a block, despite my cries of, “But dude! FREE CANDY!”

This year we covered more area, but he wouldn’t stick to the simple script of “Trick-or-treat” and “Thank you.” He kept saying stuff like, “What else do you have? Is it good? What’s in this? Can I have this instead?” Candy distributors were good-natured in the face of his interrogation and I give them much respect for that. I would have told him to get the hell off my lawn for disrespecting my candy.

Our neighborhood had a Halloween parade on Saturday. A bunch of kids came out in their costumes and paraded down the main drag, cheered on by parents, grandparents, shopkeepers, and whatever patrons managed to stumble out of the bars. The baby is going as Godzilla this year, but we couldn’t find a Godzilla specific costume and I am not yet up to the job of constructing costumes, so we borrowed a dinosaur costume from my mom’s friend. It serves the purpose, kinda, but the baby was increasingly irritated with people assuming that he was some chump dinosaur. “I’m GODZILLA!” he would whine. Duh. Trampled Tokyo multiple times…ring any bells?

The baby actually once told me that Godzilla protects humanity from the tyranny of all monsters. Those were the words he used. Who is he?

Anyway, the parade was alright. I took a few pictures of the baby but mostly spent my time snapping shots of the boulevard, which is a good way to see how…odd the neighborhood is. It’s equal parts old world Pittsburgh and honestly-we-don’t-give-a-shit.

For instance:

There’s a drive-thru beer distributor. This is not unique to us, of course, but I think any place that has establishments that combine two things that aren’t supposed to go together (ie, drinking and driving) has a certain je ne sais quoi.

There were some miscreants about. These kids watched the parade with a certain amount of wistfulness in their eyes. I could tell they really wanted to still take part in all of the pageantry, but felt that they were too old now.

Or maybe they were just high.

Firehouse. Mediterranean grocery store containing the bomb pita, hummus, tabouleh, and grape leaves.

Luke Ravenstahl, Mayor of Pittsburgh, looking very…mayoral. I emailed this pic to the mayor’s office but have not yet heard back from Luke saying, “OMG thanks! I’m making it my default pic on MySpace right now.”

Me and Godzilla, who looks pretty gentle. Also, there is not a cheerleader growing out of his head, even though it looks that way. And, yes, I’m wearing a Sean John hoodie. My dad gave all three of us hoodies last year for Christmas and they were all brands that he had seen on drug dealers on The Wire. My dad’s weird. But that hoodie is huge and warm and I love it.

Anyway, speaking of Halloween, I’ve posted a very useful scary movie guide on MamaPop which you should peruse at your earliest convenience. To sum it up for you: Suspiria owns.

Maybe the lack of wholesome cinema in my diet can explain my attitude as of late, which is rather poor. I’ve definitely hit a slump and am viewing all of my duties with contempt. I did not do the readings for any of my classes over the weekend, I did not do laundry, I did not scrub poopy toilets (can’t imagine why not, I’ve been looking forward to it so), and am cranky at work. This morning, I realized, to my great annoyance, that I still needed to pack a lunch for the baby. As I told Angela, I have a very, “You need fed AGAIN? I just fed you yesterday!” approach to parenting at the moment and all this needs to stop because I need to make a living, get my master’s and keep my kid alive. God, adulthood is such a drag.

I guess I need to watch some Divine Secrets of the Ya-Ya Sisterhood or something.

Yes, it’s been a minute since I posted last. I’ve been busy and I feel like I say that waaaaaay too much. But, tis the truth.

The dudes* and I made our annual jaunt to Trax Farms on Sunday. It was a gorgeous day, though a little too warm and while we had the brilliant idea to go on that particular Sunday since the Steelers game didn’t start til 8, so did everyone else in the tri-county area.

I ran into a PhD student from my department there. We managed to chat for a full five minutes while we stood in line for the ladies’ room. During that time the dudes were in and out of the mens’ room and already standing outside getting irritated with me about the fact that women are built in such a way that it takes longer to go to the bathroom and that’s all my fault.

Anyway, I ran into the PhD student right after we had left the petting zoo and I had a fine coating of goat slobber all over me.

Yesterday I talked to her for a few minutes and she told me that two suburban moms got into it later in the afternoon. Something about a place in line. The velour sweatsuits were on fire and phrases like, “Bring it on, bitch!” ricocheted off the SUVs. The police showed up. I’m so bummed we missed it. Even though I’m pretty sure I fall squarely into the “city folk” category, I’m still so amused when urban and suburban people take a trip to the country and forget how to act. We think we’re so civilized and sophisticated compared to people in rural areas, but we’re so not.

Anyway, there are some pictures after ye olde jumpe…

(more…)

I’m slowly (sloooooowly) working on an essay and I have TLC on in the background so I can half-watch crap shows about weddings and babies and interior decorating. What? It helps me think. Plus, the dishwasher isn’t working so I got all aggro. I need to balance out the testosterone before I go out to the street and start picking fistfights with strangers.

Currently, there’s a show on called Moving Up. One of the couples featured consists of a barber from New Jersey and a seamtress from Honduras. The husband describes meeting his wife: “I could tell she was a good one. That’s why I picked her. Snapped her up real quick.” What? He goes on to say that she’s a wonderful homemaker. The wife grins and says, “I try to be good.”

My new favorite couple takes a walk through their new house and they discuss what changes they’re going to make. The husband says that his oldest son’s room will be decorated in a baseball motif. “We want to push him toward baseball.” The designer, sure that he’s at least partially kidding, says that they don’t want to push him too hard because what if the kid wants to do ballet. “I’ll break his ballerina legs.” Oookay.

Later on in the episode, the wife is “out of the country” to “deal with some family things.” Did she suddenly realize she married a total douche?

* * *

Kids learn cause and effect pretty early, but I guess the finer points of that phenomenon take a little bit longer to sink in. Earlier, I was upstairs doing laundry when the baby yelled to me that he was having a nosebleed. I came down and was helping him clean up, when he said, “I don’t know why this happened. I was just picking my nose when all of a sudden it started bleeding.”

A detective called our house last night to get some more information on our break-in. I was on the phone with him trying to explain what an Aqua Teen Hunger Force is. The baby, of course, is never deterred by someone’s phone usage and continued talking to me despite the fact that I was waving my hand at him and scrunching up my face, which is obviously the international sign for “I’m on the phone. Shut up.”

The baby left the room for a few seconds and I was finally able to hear the detective, but he came back into the room, stark naked and holding a sock on his penis. “Look, Mum,” he said. “I’m going to pee in my sock!”

Later, I was playing with the cat and he accidentally clawed my arm. I heard the skin snap. It was most unpleasant.

Your WTF for the day: Hello Kitty Assault Rifle

Also, here’s a Friday Random Twenty:

1. “Second Chances” – Theo Parrish
2. “Finally” – Cece Peniston
3. Not sure, sounded like Justin Timberlake
4. “Declare Independence” – Bjork
5. “Shades of Jae” – Moodyman
6. “Wake Up Alone” – Amy Winehouse
7. “Beautiful” – Snoop Dogg
8. “Delicate” – Damien Rice
9. “Avril 14th” – Aphex Twin
10. “New Partner” – Palace Bros
11. “Say It Ain’t So” – Weezer
12. “Waves” – J Dilla
13. “Until the End of Time” – Justin Timberlake (channeling Prince)
14. “Wanderlust” – Bjork
15. “The Fake Anti Waltz” – The Slapped Eyeballers
16. “In the Garage” – Weezer
17. “What You Got” – Justin Timberlake
18. “From the Morning” – Nick Drake
19. “The Rink” – Theo Parrish
20. “Edit” – Regina Spektor

I have homework that I’m avoiding, so I’ve been incredibly domestic the past two days. The baby had to go to a classmate’s birthday party yesterday afternoon, but after that was over, we came back home and casually started decorating the outside of the house for Halloween.

There’s no real “theme” here obviously, unless you count, “I had a bunch of stuff in the basement that my grandmother bequeathed to me in one of those ‘I may not be around much longer’ purges so I just used most of it,” as a theme. But to spice it up, I purchased some new lights at CVS.

Tacky Fancy, no? Also, the baby was in charge of window displays.

This required me to do some actual cleaning, with Windex and paper towels and squeegees. It was pretty exciting.

I’m cleaning off and on today. I also baked some banana bread (sans walnuts and raisins) so I wouldn’t have to throw away some abandoned bananas that were attracting fruit flies and being all brown and mushy and gross.

The baby kept taking bites of my slice so I finally gave him his own. He ate about four bites and then about 3 seconds after I took that picture he told me he didn’t like the banana bread. Whatever, dude.

This guy was just thrilled with my cleaning, as he gets to coat everything anew in grey fur. I also unearthed some tiny green fuzzy ball which he has been attacking all afternoon. I’m glad I made him happy. It’s the least I can do to thank him for standing on my neck around 4:00 this morning. That was my favorite thing ever.