I gave her more than butt dimples 3/11/2006

Parenting

It’s really obvious that my daughter is her father’s kid. I knew it from the 20 week ultrasound where we got a profile shot and realized she had her daddy’s pug nose. (Incedentally, this did not keep me from having dreams that she was a black baby four feet long when I birthed her.) The first thing we noticed when we saw her, just minutes old, was her olive skin tone and perfectly shaped mouth, all thanks to Daddy. She was perfect. She was everything you’d see if you pictured Mr. Flinger as a little girl. With hair.

This bothered me somewhat as all I got to contribute was a large scar on my belly, some wicked post partum depression and butt dimples. Yes, I have two dimples above my ass and now, so does my only child. I’m so proud to pass that on.

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Before and After: a picture post 1/11/2006

Parenting

I have a series of before and after photos I thought I’d share. You may want to sit down and start drinking. It could get ugly.

First, I’ll start with the easy one. Here we have the previous “toy storage solution” since we moved in to the new condo and delegated the toy chest for shoes. (don’t ask) Yes, we delegated the storage bin formerly known as “toy box” to dirty ol’ shoes. It’s how we roll.

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The problem with a “go baby” 12/12/2005

Parenting

When LB was three weeks old, I decided she would be a “go baby.” I’m not one to be happy at home for very long and the thought of staying in the house with this new person who cried and pooped and ate all the time made me roll my eyes constantly and weep in to piles of tissue. I needed out and she was going to go with me.

image

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Maybe we will have adjacent jail cells 12/12/2005

Parenting

I’ve been trying to teach LB not to steal things. There is a fine line between looking at something and being tackled by security guards. The line is called THE DOOR and this concept is lost on my two year old.

LB loves to manhandle things. Toys. Books. Radios. Glasses. Still, at over two now, she has the grip of a Banshy and yells, “MINE MINE!” and strikes out for whatever fancies her attention at the time. More than once, this has been another buddy at the Paul Frank store. Buddy, I can understand, but a woman’s thong? Lotion? A watch? Seems my little kleptomaniac progressed up the money scale and will probably be heading right for the big jewels or important paintings next. I thought it was time to stop the inevitable.

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Oh, my three foot knight in shiny armor 12/11/2005

We purchased a garbage can today.  [I’m sorry, did you just roll your eyes and mutter, “that is not blog worthy”? You are *obviously* not aware what this garbage can means to me. Or what it took to get it. Or why we went two and a half months without one at all.]

It’s all because of the mister. [And love squabbles are always blog worthy. :: eye roll :: ]*

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Survival of the Fittest (or how the human race keeps going on even when they are lil’ shits) *edited 12/10/2005

Parenting

Since the toddler turned two, life has been… Interesting? No… um.. Wild? Yes, but.. Hell? YES! Hell.

She is coming in to her own. She MUST be the one to put on her shoes. She WILL be the one to not drink out of her straw, but rather open the lid and dump the precious expensive gold that is “Organic Valley Milk” on to her lap/carseat/books. She will refuse to walk when you ask her to, she’ll slump, boneless, when prompted to get in to the car and she’ll scream for hours in her crib instead of relaxing like Mommy could do if she would only SHUT UP for an hour or two. I’m just sayin’.

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