weekend picture review

i am well aware that BlogHer 11' has ended & 99% of the lady bloggers are back in the saddle; ready to delight you with tales of meeting one another, Sparklecorn, swag & all around good times.

so i'll keep this short & sweet.

we were invited to a birthday party this weekend. my eldest child, as anti-social as her father, screamed for half of it & spent the other half holding onto a mylar pig balloon that was attached to a bale of hay.

proof:




see the 90° angle of that ribbon? yeah, as i said- attached to a bale of hay. hooray.

eventually she stepped away & made dying sheep noises whilst sticking her head through a few cutouts:






and then we let brynn in on the fun:




i attempted to coax alex over to watch her friend unwrap presents- but she was having none of it. brandon took her back to her bff (the mylar pig) and i let brynn explore the wonders of a plastic lawn chair:






eventually it was cake time- and even alex can't ignore the lure of cake. she let go of the balloon string in exchange for sugar:



the only problem? she wanted to keep this sugar pig. forever & ever. terrible. it was melting everywhere & there was no way she was getting into my car with that thing in tow.

i'd love to describe the meltdown that occured once i took it away from her- but i've blocked it from my memory.

brynn was in good spirits though:



chillin' with daddy




pretty girl.

and the coolest party guest ended up being this praying mantis- who was hitching a ride on one of the kid's heads:







and of course i didn't have my macro lens- so i had to get all up in his personal space with my 35mm. my apologies good sir.

after 3 hours we packed up & headed home. alex screamed for 10 minutes- then passed out for another 10- then woke up & refused to nap.

glorious i tell you- glorious.

inside the mind of a child. and an adult.

the husband has often remarked that he wouldn't want to be my brain.
this is because i am incredibly random & somewhat spastic.

(i'm also painfully smart. so smart, in fact, that it hurts - which is probably why he wouldn't want to be my brain. because he would literally be in agony 24/7 - you know what i mean?)

right. but there is a brain that is even more terrifying than my own. in fact, there are several millions of these brains. no, i'm not talking about serial killers or Paris Hilton- i'm talking about my toddler.

your toddler. our toddlers. every toddler in the whole wide world.

no matter how hard i try i cannot grasp how their minds work. how they go from one extreme to another in the blink of an eye. how they love something with all their hearts on Monday at 11am- only to loath it at 3pm. on the same day. not even 5 hours later. whaaaa?

a perfect example of the randomness of toddlers is alex in the car. most trips go something like this.

both girls get buckled in. brynn happily sucking on her fist & alex watching a DVD with a cup of "juice" (she thinks it's juice- it's really flavored water. sucker.)

i drive. about 5 minutes in brynn starts laughing about something. alex decides that brynn isn't allowed to express joy of any kind & promptly screams.
i stare her down in the review mirror & tell her to knock it off. brynn (who adores alex regardless) coos for another 5 minutes or so & then falls asleep.

i drive on. alex finishes her juice & tosses the cup onto the floor. nice kid. thanks for that.
i count down in my head- "5, 4, 3, 2, 1..."

"more?"
"honey i'm driving. i'll get you more when we get home. i promise."

...

"more? more juice?" this time she frantically starts signing more as well- as if expressing her desire for more with her mouth & hands is going to move things along

"honey- i'm dri. ving. when we get home."

ok. she's quiet for a minute. she totes understands that mommy is behind the wheel of a 3 ton SUV & doesn't have Go Go Gadget arms. she's going to wait, like the patient little angel she is, for us to arrive home in 25 minutes....

"some? some snack?"
" alex honey...well ok. let me see what i can find."

i manage to snake my arm behind the seat & fish around in the front pocket of the baby bag. i find fruit snacks. success!

"here hon, fruit snacks? you want these?" i hold the bag up so she can see it.
"some! some!" maniacal laughter

i open the bag & pass it back to her. she happily accepts & all is right with the world.
...

"all done. done...."

i ignore her in the hopes that she realizes she is not, in fact, done.

"...posicle?" craaap.
"honey- mommy is driving. we don't have any popsicles. when we get home. i promise."
"DONE SNACK. POSICLE!"
"ALEX- WHEN WE GET HOME! I PROMISE!" at this point i'd promise her a beer if she asked for it. anything to avoid what's coming next.

"AAAIIIIIEEEE!!!!"
"ALEX! ENOUGH!"

::insert thermonuclear meltdown here::

she looks at the bag of half eaten fruit snacks and reacts violently, throwing them away from herself with movie perfection abruptness. almost as if she's just realized that i'm attempting to poison her. then her mouth forms an O. a big, fat O.

like this: O

silent for a second & then loud. so freaking loud. like a locomotive blasting through your head.

"POSICLE! FISH! DADDY! ELMO! GHTYTBEISSKA! JUICE! MILK! GRAPES! BLANKET! NEMO! AHGURJTIJFN!!!!"

there is really no sense in trying to reason with her. as you can see- there are so many things going on inside of her little brain right now that i don't think anything, short of Jesus or Elmo (in real life), would get through to her.

she wails for a minute or so & then goes silent.

i hold my breath & contemplate breaking the 1st & 2nd commandements by praying to the toddler gods & possibly constructing some sort of offering stone on which to sacrafice a goat if they can make her be quiet for the next 15 minutes.

then i remember that the past 9 week's sunday sermons have been about the 10 commandments & the pastor was pretty clear on the fact that God isn't down with us breaking them.

so i re-think the above & just pray to God. that's cool. i didn't want to kill a goat anyway.

i hear Larry the cucumber singing a silly song & then she laughs.

everything is ok now.

"cheese?"
"oh alex, i don't...wait. YES! i DO have cheese!" maniacal laughter (see how the tables have turned?)

i pull a slightly warm cheesestick out of her lunch bag & hand it to her.

"cheese! i LUB IT! MMM!"

awww. she loves cheese.

"momma! car! dog, woof woof! tales tales tales!" she starts singing along with veggie tales.

omg. my kid is a savant. i make a mental note to call the New England Conservatory.

i look in the mirror & see, with relief, that brynn has slept through this entire ordeal. score.
in 10 minutes we'll be home & i can escape from this prison exit the vehicle, lovingly unbuckle my child from her seat & feed her a dinner of "posicles", fish & grapes.

very well balanced.

i drive. i bob my head along to Nicki Minaj & think about how maybe i'd like a vanity plate. hmmm- what would it say? oh crap, we're out of paper towels. we also need toothpaste. OMG! i have a coupon for said toothpaste- yessss. i really wish i'd stuck with ballet, imagine how lithe & graceful i'd be...i wish i knew how to play the piano or the violin. how cool would that be? you know, i could TOTALLY be a background dancer for Britney Spears....PINTEREST! i wish i could sew- i'd make the most perfect little girl's clothes everrrr. i love singing- i have a really good voice i think. i want a new lens. like a $1600 lens. how can i convince the husband..? hawaii?!!! san francisco? NEW YORK! i can't wait for fall- but winter suuucks...

.....

"ice cream?"

DAMNIT!

picture post

not a whole lot going on right now.
errands, appts, work & etc etc.

i did finally put up (on FB) that i need to skill build & take pictures of people (other than my kids) so i'm going to be lining up some photo shoots for the next few weeks/months.

i'm actually pretty excited. a little nervous- but i'm really ready to buckle down & figure out what i'm doing.

but for now- you get my family, a snake & bugs.






sssnake.




dragonfly.








and now i'm going to figure out how to make extra money appear in my bank account so that i can purchase a few new lenses & props.
wish me luck.

pictures

first off- many thanks for the responses to my last post.
i like when things are warm & fuzzy.

like baby bunnies & newborn chicks.

but not mold.

this one time, in college, i didn't wash my towel for like 3 months (i'm not kidding. i was poor. and in college) and my roomate (in fact, the same one who's bridal shower was celebrated last weekend) pick it up, took a whif & stated,

"oh my GOD Beaner- this thing smells like hot mold!"

so when i think of warm & fuzzy- it makes me happy. but then i think about hot mold, on my body- and i get all twitchy.

anyways.

and as promised- here are some snapshots of last weekend:

this is what 6am looks like after 3 hours of sleep:







flattering- no?

our friend's have a super cute dog. olivia. she amazingly timid considering her size:




the husband = the Ace Venture of kids & pets



now that gary is no more (sob) this is my favorite cat- murray






poor olivia- she wanted us gone.



but she loves her mum.

and the chillin's:




"what dis?"

and a bit of instagram:



you know- looking at these pictures & thinking about how tired i was is actually making me tired. right now.

a great weekend- have one.

good mom. bad mom.

i frequent a message board (thebump) and came across a post this morning that made me think.

basically, one mother was defending her questionable parenting choices & several other mothers were attempting to educate her on why said methods might not be the best idea.

in this specific case i wouldn't say the original poster was being "judged" for her choices. as i stated, her methods are very questionable & frankly, borderline abusive.

i won't mince words- she's doing it wrong.

and a few ladies let her know this, very nicely i might add, and suggested ways to perhaps make her life a little easier.
they didn't jump down her throat & tell her she was a bad mom- instead they sympathized with her situation & let her know they know what she's going through.

now- i'm usually a "live & let live" type of person. stay out of my business & i'll stay out of yours. you do your thing & i'll do mine. agree to disagree. etc etc.

but i've found myself stepping out of my comfort zone every now & again.

i recall a time when i was working at McDonald's (be jealous of my employment under the golden arches) and a mother (who was around my age) came in with her child & ordered lunch. a happy meal of some sort.

i think the kid was probably around 2. he was zooming around the room and the mother looked...frazzled. meh. whatever. i was 20 & couldn't care less.
i think i probably mentally judged her for allowing herself to get knocked up so young.

about 5 minutes into their meal i could hear her shouting from the dining room. i peeked around the corner & witnessed what can only be described as a total breakdown.

she wanted him to eat. he didn't want to eat. he wants to play. he's 2. she's tired. she's upset. she has no idea what she's doing (?).

"eat please."
"no."
"EAT!"
"NO! TOY! DOWN!" (he throws throws half the content of his tray onto the floor)
"NO TOY! EAT YOUR DAMN FOOD RIGHT NOW!"

she procedes to snatch the toy out of his hand, smack him on the hand & stuff a few fries in his mouth.
of course now he starts crying.

she tells him to be quiet.
then he starts choking.
now scared herself, she tells him to stop crying & he'll stop choking.
then she starts crying.

wtf.

i look around the dining room- people are staring but doing nothing. i do see a mother with a couple older kids at another table start to get up- but my feet had already propelled themselves into action.

i'm 20. i have no kids. no clue how hard it is & honestly, i'm more concerned with paying my rent & finishing up a paper that's due in 24 hours.
but i did know that something was wrong.
this woman was losing her effing mind & no one was going to do a damn thing.

i ran over just in time to pound the kid on the back & watch him vomit up the contents of his stomach. all over himself, the table & the floor.

i watched as his gagging turned to sobs & then sniffles as his mother sat there, literally, frozen.
not moving. not talking. just watching me.

i asked him if he was ok? yes. did he want a new toy? yes. some juice? yes.

by now another mother (who was there with her own children) had come over to assist me.
we wiped him up & stripped him down to a diaper. a diaper that needed to be changed.
the woman took the boy into the bathroom to change him.

let me remind you that his own mother is still sitting there saying nothing. she's just crying.

once the other mother took the kid into the bathroom i sat down in his seat across from her.

so there i sat, in all of my 20 year old glory, mouth open- ready to ask her wtf her problem was when she looked up at me & said, in the most pitiful voice i've ever heard,
"i am so sorry. you must think i'm the worst mother in the world, don't you?"

and i just stopped.

oh my God. what do you say to that?

i looked at her & actually saw her (this may or may not have had something to do with the Psychology class i was currently taking)

young. tired. scared. broken. horrified with herself. the same age as me.

who the eff am i to judge her? i know nothing about her (except that fact that she likes extra onions on her burger which is despicable). i have no idea what it's like to be in her shoes.

"No. i don't. you're just....no one is perfect."

tears. sniffles.

"Oh my God. is he ok? oh my God. i'm so sorry Dylan! oh my God..."
"He's fine. just...he's all pukey. kinda gross. i gave him a new toy & he's getting changed."

by now the dining room has cleared out. but out of the corner of my eye i see the cops pull up.
she sees it too.
she literally crumples up. in on herself. making herself as small as she can. she starts crying again.

i tell her it's ok. i'll explain.
the other mother comes out. the girl's son & her own 3 kids in tow.

he sees his mom & comes running over. she scoops him up & he hugs her. she tells him she's so sorry. she loves him.

he tells her he has a new toy. and that he "frowed up!"

she thanks the other mother who smiles & tells her it's ok. she knows how it is (gesturing to her own 3 kids)

the cops come in. more tears. time to explain.
the other mother stays put & rubs the girl's back.

the kids run around the dining room.
i hear things like, "CPS. need help...programs. have you done this before? it's ok. i have 2 boys...."

in the end the cops give her a stern lecture about disturbing the peace & the need to control herself. they take her info & tell her there will be a follow up with a Social Worker.

she looks relieved by this.
the other mother stays the whole time.

i clean up the floor (freaking nasty) and keep an eye on the kids.

the girl thanks me. tells me i have no idea how much she appreciates everything.
the other mother gathers up her own kids & walks out with the girl & her son.
i watch them exchange info & get kids loaded into cars.
they drive away.

good bye. good grief. wtf just happened here?

i'm not going to say this was some big turning point for me. i quickly put the whole mess out of my mind & went on turn 21 & then 22 & then 23 & then get married & etc etc.

i still did my share of eye rolling & stating "that will NEVER when i have kids....!!!"
you know the deal.

and then i had alex. and then she turned 1. and then she had her very first tantrum.

and as the husband & i stood there, with mouths agape, watching our child kick & scream & spit (yes, spit)- the above memory exploded upwards and out from the deep recesses of my brain.

oh my God.

and then as she had more tantrums. and more. and more. and then i had brynn. and then i juggled 2 babies. and then alex started hitting & kicking & saying "NO!" & throwing food & wanting popsicles for breakfast, lunch & dinner...i got it.

this is so hard. and i have no idea what i'm doing. and i might lose my mind.

i want to point out that if the above McD's scenario had happened in the privacy of her own home, no one would have been the wiser. but because her breakdown happened in public- she never stood a chance.

we have ALL done things in the privacy of our own homes that we wouldn't dream of admitting to people. things that we might think of later on & feel pretty damn guilty about.

and so far as a mother i have said & done things i'm not proud of. i've had many a moment of weakness when alex is screaming for no apparent reason & brynn wants to be held.
when i haven't slept in days & there is laundry to be folded, groceries to be purchased & the dogs have peed on the floor AGAIN!!!

i've yelled back. i've screamed. i've cried.

i've thrown a toy across the room. i've slammed a door. i've seen red. i've lost it.

i've watched alex hit her sister even after i've said no. i've watched her get up from the chair i've sat her in, walk over, and smack her again. i silently remind myself that smacking her back isn't going to get my point across. is it?

she just hit brynn. i said no. how can i now hit her? how would that even...?!

and at my wits end, after watching her kick brynn in the face (for the 3rd time) i've found myself tapping her on the hand & shouting "OH MY GOD ALEX! KNOCK IT OFF!"

and in those moments i'm pretty sure that if anyone saw me they'd be horrified. perhaps even thinking that i'm a bad mom.
how could i yell at my kid? how could i throw my own tantrum? how could i just say,
"FINE! do whatever you want!!! here's a marshmallow! just give me 5 minutes PLEASE!!!"

i'm being honest here. and all i can say is try to be honest with yourself. if you see something that makes you want to judge, take a step back & put yourself in their shoes (if you even can).

if you're a parent- you. have. been. there.

instead of putting on your self righteous suit, try to help. try to be understanding. try to remember what it felt like when you were losing control.

wether it be online or in real life.

i'm not in any way condoning violence or abuse. both are wrong & should never happen. if it is happening, it should be reported.

i'm talking about the times where we all lose our cool & need a gentle reminder that we're human & it's ok to make mistakes. but that we need to learn from those mistakes & work on ways to make sure they don't happen again.

we need to stop pointing fingers and labeling others as a "bad mom" because that simply isn't our place.
on the same token, we need to admit to our faults & not take offense when given a suggestion on how to avoid certain situations.
plugging our ears to good advice & staying stuck in a rut won't do us any favours. amen?

so now when i see a mother at Target, with her kid screaming at the top of his lungs because he can't have his way, and i watch her either give in or ignore his wails- i don't roll my eyes or tsk tsk anymore- because oh my God, i was just there 5 minutes ago.
and now my kid, although tear streaked, is happily playing with a toy i told her she couldn't have.

go figure.

i feel your pain. i really do.

p.s. you're a good mom. remember that.