oh Hai!
No, not the Dawg, and anyone thinking to themselves with a smirk what a female dawg is called, well... all I can say is, YEP! (teehee).
I'm the missus, aka Hound's wife, and the bearer of the unique and startlingly accurate title of MommymommymommymommymommycanIhazcheezschlammich?
I was asked to put some thoughts on here, and in an effort to craft the wittiest, most comically satisfying, humorous post without being cliched, I've put it off for a week or two... ok, MAYbe three. In that time, I've decided to go ahead and post as my ability to make people laugh tends to strike at odd moments, and I may never catch that elusive mood in writing.
So you're stuck with this. :P Neener neener.
"Has it been four years already?"
This refrain has bounced around through my head and frequently comes out via the oral orifice lately. As in, since late June, lately.
The answer, of course is, no. There have been random wormholes that my son has either created or cleverly mapped and is time-jumping his way through infancy, and now toddlerhood. How else could it be explained? Just yesterday I was coming to from the anesthetic fog to see my honey all in blue cradling something making the most wonderful wailing sound I'd ever heard. You wouldn't think that an angry, squalling red face would make a perfectly sensible (stop laughing) woman get all blubbery, now would you?
No, wait... just yesterday a four year old was holding up arms sticky with appley-scented liquid saying, "I just want to love on you, Mommy!" in response to that age-old question, "Were you finger-painting my table with your apple juice?"
Errrr... or was yesterday the all-nighter worrying and holding and rocking a pitifully whimpering sickling while the fever hit 102 and finally broke?
um.
One sec, I'm sure there's a calendar around... here... somewhere.
OK, the secret is out. I don't know what day it is, I rarely know the time, and if you ask me when a birthday or anniversary is, I need at least 5 minutes to look it up.
But one thing is sure, I wouldn't trade my title for nothing in the world.
-Mommy
Monday, July 14, 2008
And the birthday winner is!
Transformers, movies, petit fours, and legos. and the winner is ........ a balloon.
@#$$&!!@#!!#!@ a couple of hundred bucks worth of stuff that i woulda given my right nut for as a kid.... and he chooses a damn balloon?????
oh well, cest la vie.
with this latest "favorite" toy choice i have come to a conclusion about the criteria that the mutant uses in his selection process.
CRITERION:
1. must be noisy ( if ya think a balloon cant be noisy, just imagine it being bounced againsta a wall 90,000 times a minute for an hour straight..... no jury would convict me)
2. must be physically "non-permanantely damaging" (scars and gouges do not bode well for the retention of the aforementioned toy)
3. shoud be easy to conceal, or conceal ones self in ( this one sometimes gets ignored in favor of criterion 4)
4. should have "modification" potential (specifically can it be altered to make MORE noise?)
5. absolutely MUST annoy dad to the point of speechlessness in under a minute (for mom a 5 minute time limit on speechlessness is acceptable)
6. must NOT be interesting to the dog (except in a cringing oh god pleasepleaseplease dont hit me with that again, kind of way)
7. MUST have a protective "cute factor" (i.e. can be held in one hand, enhacing the cute factor while saying "i LOOOOVE you daddy)
soooo getting hit in the head by a balloon doesn't hurt??? BULLCRAP!!! i got to witness criteria 7 in action last night.
i am blissfully engrossed in a combination of heavy duty gameplay and good music (headphones on to shut out the "real" world.... mistake #1)
i am only peripherally aware of jr playing in the living room with his balloon (mistake#2 NEVER NEVER forget where the boy is)
i have forgotten to tel mom that i am in a raid (BIGGEST mistake, as she usually runs intererference during raid time)
all of a sudden out of the corner i "sense" more than see a large green object zipping towards my head..
result: i WHIP my head down and left to avoid the oncoming object and rocket my right hand up to block said object which at this time is no more than an inch from being in the space formerly occupied by my head. (ok folks just so as you know, i have very fast reflexes.. "pick a fly outta the air" type reflexes)
i actually blocked the balloon and about the same time that my fingers relayed the info "hey this is just a balloon) to my brain, my neck started relaying a completely different and quite disturbing message.... "OWowOWowFUCKowowowwo"
so how the hell do i explain to the dr that REALLY i got whiplash from a BALOON???
peace
-dawg
@#$$&!!@#!!#!@ a couple of hundred bucks worth of stuff that i woulda given my right nut for as a kid.... and he chooses a damn balloon?????
oh well, cest la vie.
with this latest "favorite" toy choice i have come to a conclusion about the criteria that the mutant uses in his selection process.
CRITERION:
1. must be noisy ( if ya think a balloon cant be noisy, just imagine it being bounced againsta a wall 90,000 times a minute for an hour straight..... no jury would convict me)
2. must be physically "non-permanantely damaging" (scars and gouges do not bode well for the retention of the aforementioned toy)
3. shoud be easy to conceal, or conceal ones self in ( this one sometimes gets ignored in favor of criterion 4)
4. should have "modification" potential (specifically can it be altered to make MORE noise?)
5. absolutely MUST annoy dad to the point of speechlessness in under a minute (for mom a 5 minute time limit on speechlessness is acceptable)
6. must NOT be interesting to the dog (except in a cringing oh god pleasepleaseplease dont hit me with that again, kind of way)
7. MUST have a protective "cute factor" (i.e. can be held in one hand, enhacing the cute factor while saying "i LOOOOVE you daddy)
soooo getting hit in the head by a balloon doesn't hurt??? BULLCRAP!!! i got to witness criteria 7 in action last night.
i am blissfully engrossed in a combination of heavy duty gameplay and good music (headphones on to shut out the "real" world.... mistake #1)
i am only peripherally aware of jr playing in the living room with his balloon (mistake#2 NEVER NEVER forget where the boy is)
i have forgotten to tel mom that i am in a raid (BIGGEST mistake, as she usually runs intererference during raid time)
all of a sudden out of the corner i "sense" more than see a large green object zipping towards my head..
result: i WHIP my head down and left to avoid the oncoming object and rocket my right hand up to block said object which at this time is no more than an inch from being in the space formerly occupied by my head. (ok folks just so as you know, i have very fast reflexes.. "pick a fly outta the air" type reflexes)
i actually blocked the balloon and about the same time that my fingers relayed the info "hey this is just a balloon) to my brain, my neck started relaying a completely different and quite disturbing message.... "OWowOWowFUCKowowowwo"
so how the hell do i explain to the dr that REALLY i got whiplash from a BALOON???
peace
-dawg
Wednesday, July 2, 2008
Fun on the 4th: tennessee style
As i was sitting on the front porch smoking a ciggarette a little while ago, i got to think about the fourth of july and all the rituals that go with this all american holiday. (FIREWORKS ROCK)!
this sentimental flashback (or senile if you will) was prompted by what sounde like the fighting in beiruit int he 80's must have been like.
somewhere in the late 90s in or around my 7th year of sobriety and about a year after leving the militiary, myself, my ex wife and "uncle" daryl were invited to participate in a "bottle rocket war". (hmmmm lighting flying explosive devices and firing them directly TOWARDS other people..... FUUUUN!!)
needless to say what the "opposing team" and what we had in mind were two completely different things.. apparently the opposition had gone out and (rather deviously) cobbled together some "bazookas" (wrapping paper tubes with a stick taped to it) that they gloatingly showed to us before we staged each team one either side of a railroad bridge straddling a fair sized creek.
at that point it was getting kind of dark and daryl had not yet arrived with the "heavy artillery".
right about the time it went pitch dark daryl arrived with thegoodies we had put together. the engagement was initiated by various members of each team lighting up their smokes and starting to toss out a few "screamers" at each other.
eeeeeeeeeeeeee....... swwoooosh..... POP.... goldangitowthat hurt..... daryl screamed as a well aimed shot from an enemy bazooka hits him in the leg...
hey look.. dude... they are trying to cross the bridge..... GET EM..
daryl and i looked at each other with a kind of maniac glee, and unlimbered OUR bazookas!
see, where the other guys had stuck to wrapping paper tubes and whistlink bottlerockets (about 1/4 inch diameter and about 3 inches long, glued to a paper stick... daryl and i had created weapons of mass destruction.. we had taken various odds and ends like 4inch diameter carpet tubes, lexan sheeting, toy gun handles and radiator clamps to create monsters that could shoot the 9 inch long finned rockets (ya know those suckers you can almost take a jet down with).
turns out that if you pulled the little plastic finned assembly off of one of the rockets and glued it to the front of another one, that the resulting projectile was devastatingly accurate.
SWOOOOOSH.......ssssshhhhhhhhh........FWUUMMP! AHHHHHHHH... ..... .....SPlaSH!
holy crap, i think i just blew somebody off of the bridge...... ahhhh maybe we oughta bail... that can't be good.....
see thats what happens when ya give maniacs fireworks... ain't it great
peace
-dawg
this sentimental flashback (or senile if you will) was prompted by what sounde like the fighting in beiruit int he 80's must have been like.
somewhere in the late 90s in or around my 7th year of sobriety and about a year after leving the militiary, myself, my ex wife and "uncle" daryl were invited to participate in a "bottle rocket war". (hmmmm lighting flying explosive devices and firing them directly TOWARDS other people..... FUUUUN!!)
needless to say what the "opposing team" and what we had in mind were two completely different things.. apparently the opposition had gone out and (rather deviously) cobbled together some "bazookas" (wrapping paper tubes with a stick taped to it) that they gloatingly showed to us before we staged each team one either side of a railroad bridge straddling a fair sized creek.
at that point it was getting kind of dark and daryl had not yet arrived with the "heavy artillery".
right about the time it went pitch dark daryl arrived with thegoodies we had put together. the engagement was initiated by various members of each team lighting up their smokes and starting to toss out a few "screamers" at each other.
eeeeeeeeeeeeee....... swwoooosh..... POP.... goldangitowthat hurt..... daryl screamed as a well aimed shot from an enemy bazooka hits him in the leg...
hey look.. dude... they are trying to cross the bridge..... GET EM..
daryl and i looked at each other with a kind of maniac glee, and unlimbered OUR bazookas!
see, where the other guys had stuck to wrapping paper tubes and whistlink bottlerockets (about 1/4 inch diameter and about 3 inches long, glued to a paper stick... daryl and i had created weapons of mass destruction.. we had taken various odds and ends like 4inch diameter carpet tubes, lexan sheeting, toy gun handles and radiator clamps to create monsters that could shoot the 9 inch long finned rockets (ya know those suckers you can almost take a jet down with).
turns out that if you pulled the little plastic finned assembly off of one of the rockets and glued it to the front of another one, that the resulting projectile was devastatingly accurate.
SWOOOOOSH.......ssssshhhhhhhhh........FWUUMMP! AHHHHHHHH... ..... .....SPlaSH!
holy crap, i think i just blew somebody off of the bridge...... ahhhh maybe we oughta bail... that can't be good.....
see thats what happens when ya give maniacs fireworks... ain't it great
peace
-dawg
Monday, June 23, 2008
Toy shopping with "unca daywer" (daryl)
First off let me say that uncle daryl is my best friend, and for many years has proven to be one of the most stalwart, caring human beings it has been my privilege to know.
truly my life has been enriched (and sometimes dragged through the mud) by having him around.
..that being said, sometimes i seriously wonder if he is etier a: insane or b:just plain mean.
case in point, we went looking at toy ideas for xaviers birthday. these are just a few of the gems that he suggested:
1. remote controlled helicopter (aww hell no, this thing could take the place of my dremel, i can just see him grinding the dogs nose off with it)
2. battery operated moving roaring dinosaur (while freaking awesome... gotta say no to dino roars 26 hours a day for the next six months)
3. "little construction set" by black and decker (i cant even begin to explain how wrong this one is, the destruction potential is truly GLOBAL)
4. hot wheels playset (i almost ok'd this one till i realized he had picked out the one that had the motorized launching device.... yeah, i really want a toy car accelerated to mach one and then shot at my head)
5. "indiana jones" WHIP with real life sounds. (i swear my jaw hit the floor and i was freaking speechless)
proof positive that uncles be they honorary or fer real that don't have kids.. have absolutely no idea the hell that parents go through after ther seemingly innocent "GIFTS"
(i'm pretty sure he's just insane.... he actually knows this kid, yet he still suggested all of the above.... what would you think??)
whacked outta his freaking skull!
much luv daryl.. you really are the best!
peace
-dawg
truly my life has been enriched (and sometimes dragged through the mud) by having him around.
..that being said, sometimes i seriously wonder if he is etier a: insane or b:just plain mean.
case in point, we went looking at toy ideas for xaviers birthday. these are just a few of the gems that he suggested:
1. remote controlled helicopter (aww hell no, this thing could take the place of my dremel, i can just see him grinding the dogs nose off with it)
2. battery operated moving roaring dinosaur (while freaking awesome... gotta say no to dino roars 26 hours a day for the next six months)
3. "little construction set" by black and decker (i cant even begin to explain how wrong this one is, the destruction potential is truly GLOBAL)
4. hot wheels playset (i almost ok'd this one till i realized he had picked out the one that had the motorized launching device.... yeah, i really want a toy car accelerated to mach one and then shot at my head)
5. "indiana jones" WHIP with real life sounds. (i swear my jaw hit the floor and i was freaking speechless)
proof positive that uncles be they honorary or fer real that don't have kids.. have absolutely no idea the hell that parents go through after ther seemingly innocent "GIFTS"
(i'm pretty sure he's just insane.... he actually knows this kid, yet he still suggested all of the above.... what would you think??)
whacked outta his freaking skull!
much luv daryl.. you really are the best!
peace
-dawg
Picking presents, and birthday blues!
In just a couple of weeks (2 weeks to be exact) the mutant will have graced all us lesser mortals here with his magnificent presence for 4 WHOLE YEARS.
this milestone has brought an extremely important question to the forefront of my mind. WHAT EXACTLY do you get a world domination bent, daemonically posessed mutant toddler for a birthday present??? (other than holy water and maybe a cross to excorcise the daemon)
i figure the ideal present has to have a few basic specifications.
1. must be STURDY!
2. should be thought provoking (heh gotta sneak education in there)
3. should hold jr's attention (this one is tough considering the redbull-ferret on meth thing)
4. must be STURDY!
5. ideally should be low (er) cost.. (that leaves out that slightly used surplus tank)
6. should not be inherently dangerous to most higher life forms. (NO DARYL you CAN'T get him a remote controlled helicopter)
7. must be STURDY! (sense a pattern yet?)
8. absolutely must be dishwasher safe (cmon i dare ya, tell me ya aint tossed your kids crap in the dishwasher)
9. should be easy to operate. (damn that shoots down the JR SCIENTIST CLUB build your own space shuttle kit)
looks like kegos again...
.......sigh, yet another year of
"what the hell" (lego in shoe)
"owowowowowo dammmit what was..." (tiny lego under foot in middle of midnight bathroom run)
"NOnoNOnoNO do not stick that there" (said while removing lego from dogs nostril)
"look daddy i made a dog" (HOLLEE SHIT WHATTHEHELL ISTHAT)
and of course..
"GET YOUR LITTLE BUT OVER HERE NOW" (immediately following yet another flying lego experiment)
and ya REALLY were wondering bout the "birthday blues in the title, weren't ya???
i never said he was blue did i?
peace
-dawg
this milestone has brought an extremely important question to the forefront of my mind. WHAT EXACTLY do you get a world domination bent, daemonically posessed mutant toddler for a birthday present??? (other than holy water and maybe a cross to excorcise the daemon)
i figure the ideal present has to have a few basic specifications.
1. must be STURDY!
2. should be thought provoking (heh gotta sneak education in there)
3. should hold jr's attention (this one is tough considering the redbull-ferret on meth thing)
4. must be STURDY!
5. ideally should be low (er) cost.. (that leaves out that slightly used surplus tank)
6. should not be inherently dangerous to most higher life forms. (NO DARYL you CAN'T get him a remote controlled helicopter)
7. must be STURDY! (sense a pattern yet?)
8. absolutely must be dishwasher safe (cmon i dare ya, tell me ya aint tossed your kids crap in the dishwasher)
9. should be easy to operate. (damn that shoots down the JR SCIENTIST CLUB build your own space shuttle kit)
looks like kegos again...
.......sigh, yet another year of
"what the hell" (lego in shoe)
"owowowowowo dammmit what was..." (tiny lego under foot in middle of midnight bathroom run)
"NOnoNOnoNO do not stick that there" (said while removing lego from dogs nostril)
"look daddy i made a dog" (HOLLEE SHIT WHATTHEHELL ISTHAT)
and of course..
"GET YOUR LITTLE BUT OVER HERE NOW" (immediately following yet another flying lego experiment)
and ya REALLY were wondering bout the "birthday blues in the title, weren't ya???
i never said he was blue did i?
peace
-dawg
Sunday, June 15, 2008
If jr aint happy, aint nobody happy,: fathers day 2008
Well it's fathers day, and for the first time in his life jr was actually able to wish me a "happy fathers day. (with a little coaching from mom of course)
jr is sick at the moment with a little summer cold. and his overall demeanor has changed from bright and sunny (daemonic glee) to unhappy and apathetic (the neighbor shot and ate my dog!, but i don't care). and as is the natural way of things, he is determined to share his misery with all of us!
so our little redbull fueled ferret has degenerated into a badger with hemmerhoids.
me: xavier, are you hungry?
x: NO! hack hack cough cough (kicks the dog and flops to the ground)
me: xavier, do you want to watch a movie?
x: cough hack cough, NO!
me: xavier, do you want to take a nap?
x: cough, NO I DONT WANT TO NAP!!! hack hack
me: well? what do you want???
x: I WANT TREATS! cake! pleeease!
me: no xavier you cant have cake
x: WHIIINNNE, SNIFF SNIFFF aaaaahhhhhggghhhh!
mom: xavier, tell daddy happy fathers day
x:hack sniiffle cough happy fathers day cough sniff dadee.. hack hack!
me: here you can have a piece of cake!
ARGGHH HE DID IT AGAIN!
i am sooo whipped
peace
-dawg
jr is sick at the moment with a little summer cold. and his overall demeanor has changed from bright and sunny (daemonic glee) to unhappy and apathetic (the neighbor shot and ate my dog!, but i don't care). and as is the natural way of things, he is determined to share his misery with all of us!
so our little redbull fueled ferret has degenerated into a badger with hemmerhoids.
me: xavier, are you hungry?
x: NO! hack hack cough cough (kicks the dog and flops to the ground)
me: xavier, do you want to watch a movie?
x: cough hack cough, NO!
me: xavier, do you want to take a nap?
x: cough, NO I DONT WANT TO NAP!!! hack hack
me: well? what do you want???
x: I WANT TREATS! cake! pleeease!
me: no xavier you cant have cake
x: WHIIINNNE, SNIFF SNIFFF aaaaahhhhhggghhhh!
mom: xavier, tell daddy happy fathers day
x:hack sniiffle cough happy fathers day cough sniff dadee.. hack hack!
me: here you can have a piece of cake!
ARGGHH HE DID IT AGAIN!
i am sooo whipped
peace
-dawg
Sunday, June 8, 2008
The newest olympic sport: PACKING!
anyone who has ever moved has experienced the unmitigated hell that is packing for the move!
.....BUT, you until you add a 4 yr old to the mix of stress and boxes, only then can you truly understand "the inferno" as described by dante!
first off, we are buying a house (our first home) and even through all the whining this is truly a blessing. (now that the disclaimer is out of the way, ... back to the rant)
5 years ago the wife and i were in real bad shape financially, living in a pay by the week trailer, and selling our frigging BOOKS to make ends meet. i mean not ramen poor... but generic baloney and outlet store bread poor!
fast forward to 2008!
when we moved into our apartment 4 1/2 years ago we moved pretty much everything in the backseat of a 1981 monte carlo. today as im apacking our stuff in preparation for the upcoming move, it finally struck me how much STUFF we have accumulated in the last 4 years.
and seriously folks, i don't want to go into how much of it is USELESS CRAP that i never even look at, let alone use!
i opened the bedroom closet to get stuff out of there and pack it up, and got smakced in the face by a newspaper from 2004! i found clothes that i forgot i have have never worn (and seeing as that was 3-4 belt notches ago, probably never will wear em).
jr's closet.... well lets just say i found where the legions of plastic straws have been going!
so i'm packing all my books up in my bedroom (quite oblivious to the world) and all of a sudden this cold chill grips my spine. so i go out to the hallway to see what exactly has gotten my "spidey sense" tingling, and what do i see?
the last 45 minutes or so worth of paperbacks that i have been packing away neatly into boxes, have magically re-formed into a fortress blocking the hallway.
this thing is so solid, i could probably patrol the ramparts myself... 2 feet thick and 3 /12 feet high.
jr stands back... puts one hand on his hip, thrust the other hand towards me palm upwards (with a sweeping wave towards his bastion of solitude) and says "LOOK DADDY" "MY CASTLE"
45 minutes worth of work demolished and rebuilt in 5 minutes........ anyone need a general contractor? the mutant works cheap and fast!
.....BUT, you until you add a 4 yr old to the mix of stress and boxes, only then can you truly understand "the inferno" as described by dante!
first off, we are buying a house (our first home) and even through all the whining this is truly a blessing. (now that the disclaimer is out of the way, ... back to the rant)
5 years ago the wife and i were in real bad shape financially, living in a pay by the week trailer, and selling our frigging BOOKS to make ends meet. i mean not ramen poor... but generic baloney and outlet store bread poor!
fast forward to 2008!
when we moved into our apartment 4 1/2 years ago we moved pretty much everything in the backseat of a 1981 monte carlo. today as im apacking our stuff in preparation for the upcoming move, it finally struck me how much STUFF we have accumulated in the last 4 years.
and seriously folks, i don't want to go into how much of it is USELESS CRAP that i never even look at, let alone use!
i opened the bedroom closet to get stuff out of there and pack it up, and got smakced in the face by a newspaper from 2004! i found clothes that i forgot i have have never worn (and seeing as that was 3-4 belt notches ago, probably never will wear em).
jr's closet.... well lets just say i found where the legions of plastic straws have been going!
so i'm packing all my books up in my bedroom (quite oblivious to the world) and all of a sudden this cold chill grips my spine. so i go out to the hallway to see what exactly has gotten my "spidey sense" tingling, and what do i see?
the last 45 minutes or so worth of paperbacks that i have been packing away neatly into boxes, have magically re-formed into a fortress blocking the hallway.
this thing is so solid, i could probably patrol the ramparts myself... 2 feet thick and 3 /12 feet high.
jr stands back... puts one hand on his hip, thrust the other hand towards me palm upwards (with a sweeping wave towards his bastion of solitude) and says "LOOK DADDY" "MY CASTLE"
45 minutes worth of work demolished and rebuilt in 5 minutes........ anyone need a general contractor? the mutant works cheap and fast!
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