Daxohol

Reflection 2004

"Dear god Daxohol, will you ever shut up with the mushy shit?"

I will.  After this post mkay?  Promise.

When Gary and I rang in 2003 with a gigantic party, when Gary was walking around like a bear who was just shot in the jugular with a tranquilizer gun and passing time until he goes to sleepy land, when he ranted for 15 minutes about a friend of ours sticking carrots (he hates carrots) up his butt, when I was pretending to give a glow stick a blow job, when I break danced on my living room floor, we had know idea what was ahead for us in the coming year.  We had no idea that I would become pregnant and we would get married (we always knew we would...Daxon just adjusted the plans - as usual).  Ah...how blissfully human - not knowing what the future holds...

Ringing in 2004, we had a little more insight as to what was in store.  We had a baby coming, and a second wedding in the works to accommodate all the family and friends who wanted to be at the first one but couldn't because they where not our parents.  What I didn't know is that there would be 4 baby showers thrown for us.  This year, I had confirmed what I always knew.  I always knew that I was blessed with an amazing bunch of crazy-assed friends, and an extraordinary bunch of equally crazy bum-bummed family.  But I really was surprised at the down pour of support.  I really was moved. 

This New Year's, I am just so incredibly grateful.  I have absolutely no clue what is in store for me other than watching my baby grow into a small child.  My baby.  I am grateful that I have him.  I thank the Creator everyday for him.  Everyday that he is with me is a gift.  A gift I always want to receive even when I catch him skipping class, even when he tries to pull tude on me, even when he tries to sneak home drunk.  Even when he won't stop crawling to the speakers and smacking them.

Yay for 2005! 

Oh The Humanity. Seriously.

I hope you all had a good Christmas.

I hope you enjoyed every second of being with loved ones. Even if they annoy you or make you angry etc. Because you could have been in South Asia. And though sometimes, perhaps you where wishing a giant 30 foot wave would come and wash away Aunt Matilda who constantly belittles you, or that cousin who is just a complete jerk, or your parents who messed you up. Though may have thought that, it actually happened to others in this world this week. But you see, not just those annoying relatives where swept away, but everyone and everything. Men, women, and children. Babies. Our self absorbed mentalities regarding our lives can become a huge joke when compared to the power that Mother Earth and the Creator (if you believe it) has over us. In the blink of an eye, all that we know and all who we know can be wiped out. No politics. No decisions. No one to blame. Only pure acknowledgement of our fragile humanity.

I weep for the dead. I weep for the survivors. I weep for South Asia.

Hold your loved ones tightly.

We Continue Our Regularly Scheduled Programming Day

Ah.  I'm back.  What a Christmas.  Daxon was spoiled. Mumma & Dada where spoiled.

We got a nice lil' toy from Nanta - yes, Nanta (Nana + Santa = Nanta).

a Cannon ZR80 Digital Video Cam

How freaking fantabulous is that?  We got it Christmas eve so we got to record every second of Daxon's first Christmas morning.  Which happened exactly how I described it, only he was laying down and crying.

His Christmas Day was loaded with fun playing with all his new toys.  All cute, all day.

Back to MY TOYS! No.  Not that kind. Perverts.

I got an All-in-One HP printer.

I got a nifty keyboard with all kinds of cool buttons.  In fact..."I'll never have to click anything aaaagaaaaainnnnnn OOOOOHHHHHH NOOOOOOOOOOOO!" - If you didn't get the reference you suck for cake MacArther Park.

My shins are killing me.  They are battered and bruised.  You know why?  Because apparently, APPARENTLY, buggies cannot travel in snow very well.  What should have been a 5 minutes walk to the library was a half and hour battle royale.  I came out of the battle badly bruised, extremely pissed off, but okay.  On the way to the library, Daxon managed to fall asleep.  He managed to fall asleep while being jolted, tossed and thrown about in his buggy.  So, next time he wakes up at 3:00am and won't settle back to sleep should I just throw him around a bit? Perhaps juggle him with a couple oranges? 

I was also a stupid moron.  I did not call my husband who's job it is to bail me out of tough situations for a ride home. No no folks.  In my twisted little brain I though it would be nice for him to sleep.  I apparently also thought it absolutely delightful that I endure another round of beatings from the bastards who don't run their snow blowers in both directions to clear a 5 inch wider path and the fucktards who can't lift shovels but still manage to harm me.

Once I finally arrived home, I open the door and yelled "NEVER EVER AGAIN!"  Which boils down to this - I will never be able to leave my house again this winter unless I am being driven or I manage to acquire some sort of snow/pavement friendly transportation device for Daxon.  Ideally, a sled with little wheels.  Or the snow must vanish.  And I do wish it will just vanish.  But not in a 30 foot wave.

Pun-crappin'-dit

Anyone else sick of the word "pundit"?  Maybe it's just me...

Merry Christmas!

My baby's first Christmas.  How freakin' amazing is this?!

First off, I want to say that aside from all the commercial BS of this season, I truly believe in Christmas.  My spiritual roots in this holiday are kinda like stew. My background is Christian/Ojibwae.  I celebrate the birth of Jesus or in Ojibwae, Nanabush.  Yes, I know, The 25th of December is not the exact birthdate of Christ but blow me.  It is CELEBRATED that day.  I can choose to celebrate my birthday any day I want.

I believe in a season of giving thanks, giving to others, forgiving and being grateful and cherishing the creator's great gift of life and the earth.

This Christmas for me is particularly moving, as my son is the best gift the creator could ever give me. 

Okay cut the mushy shit.  Seriously folks.  We are going to need a separate domicile for the toys.  The army of toys Daxon currently commands has set up camp in about 10 zones within the parameters of the domicile.  I can't imagine another 35 toys thrown into the rotation.  He's only 9 months people! What the shit?!  At this stage, an empty box and some crackly celophane gift wrap is all he would need.  But NOOOOoooooo, Mumma and Dada are suckers with a capitol U and we of course have to buy the toys by the hundred. 

I am just looking forward to walking into his room, seeing is beautiful face smiling at me with such excitement to see me like he does everday - well - everyday he doesn't wake up and simply cry - but once I walk into the room he immediately starts to smile and giggle and stamp his little feet super fast.  Of course you know that is how he'll wake up Christmas morning.  I would then pick him up out of his crib, hug him tight, and bring him downstairs.  Before we do anything else, we'll help open all his presents which we have so pointlessly wrapped.  Well, not pointlessly I suppose since most of the fun comes in him tearing all the crackly paper and watching his eyes twitch.

I'm just so excited.  I think I just peed a bit.

Crackly Bits

Sorry for the lack of postage as of late...things are hectic with Christams coming.

Okay fine, I was in a blind panic trying to finish getting out Christmas/Thank You cards out to over 100 people.  You'd THINK I would get that done early.  NO! This is ME!  Why would I do something THAT SMART?

Anyway quickie updates:

Daxon is teething like a mofo.  No sleep for us.  Freakin' tired.  Fed the hell up.  Still no new teeth.  I thought the next ones after the first couple came in fast...This has been going on for two weeks.  What the shit?

Saturday we went to my mom's family's Christmas shindig.  Here is what went down - Daxon is a junkie for the following:

All things Crackly - that is CRACKLY not crack.

Sparkly

Shiney - Lights/Chandeliers especially

I think he actually had a power surge occur in his brain from all of the above.  In fact, there was some gift basket wrap that was so crackly, it was TOO CRACKLY and he just couldn't handle it.  He actually pushed it away because if he played with it anymore he was going to explode.  He had this wildly insane look in his eye as he was playing with it.  It just got to be too much and he shoved it away with such force you would think it pushed him first. 

He also had fun with his many cousins and his "Great" Uncle B (he's my uncle).  Uncle B and Daxon are quite the pair.  The two of them just adore each other.  In fact, Uncle B taught Daxon how to offically razz...I get him back for a hug and he goes "ppphphphphphphphphphphpphpphphh!!!!" right in my face, sending drool sailing into my eye and tumbling onto my shirt.  A fun day was had.

mmmmm...randomy

Christmas is next weekend? It's December? Holy Sh*beep*t!

My sister is offically moving to the Caymen Islands.  This time for real.  For a while they where not sure due to the costs of rebuilding.  Chances where not good.  But now, they are DEFINITLY going.  First week of January.  Of course, barring any freak tropical storms/hurricanes/earthquakes/volcanoes popping up out of nowhere/gravitational shifts etc. etc.

Me? I started saving for my trip today.  I now have a total of two dollars toward my "Bombard My Sister" trip. 

Do you think if I get my Christmas cards out by monday at the latest they will still arrive on time (and by on time I mean before January 1st)?

Moment Fromage De Jour - My husband is the best.  I love him so.

It's time to tape the cat's water bowl to the floor again.  Bad kitty.

RE: Changing Me

Bcc: Dada - Do you see the way he talks to me? Who does he get that from?

Dearest Daxon,

I really do not mean to interrupt your development by changing your diaper.  Again, it is my job description that you created yourself, to make sure that your diaper and butt are clean and dry.  Unfortunately, these diaper changes occur quite randomly and may cut into your important Peek-a-Block whackings or conferences with Duckie, Billy the Bear, Mario the Monkey and Doug the Broken Barked Dog.  I assure you Daxon that I only hold your needs in my highest priority, and if there are inconveniences as a result I sincerely apologize.  I cannot modify the actions to suit your agenda any further.  Your communication is adequate for your age, however, I feel that you are slightly unreasonable at times.  Sir.  I know you days are very busy.  Sir.

Regarding the crawling.  I may have been able to give birth to you, but I guarantee you, it is virtually impossible to provide you with a clean bottom and diaper while you are in full motion and continue to be productive and provide a sanitary, poop-free carpet to play on.  It cannot be done.  It is necessary for you to lie flat on your back and your co-operation is needed and appreciated.  I always strive to be a good Mumma, but I need your help to make that goal achievable.

With respect to being a team, I do not appreciate you joking about me and undermining me at Playgroup.  Your actions are in violation of a loving environment and can be reported to Dada and the Human Resources Department (Gramma & Nana).  This is a warning. 

Lastly, there is nothing to be concerned about with the "Musical Potty" issue.  Unfortunately this policy won't even be discussed with you for some time.  There is nothing to be concerned about.

Lovingly,

Mumma 

RE: Changing Me

Dearest Mumma,

I ask you this in order to preserve my sanity.  Why must you interrupt my important developmental play time with your maniacal diaper changing.  I mean really!  Are you out of your mind? There are Peek-a-Blocks that are in desperate need of being whacked onto the floor and you answer my wrinkly-faced whiny request to service my diaper at that precise moment?  I can wallow in my own filth and continue to whine longer whilst I whack the Peek-a-Blocks until I deem them whacked enough. Then you may service my diaper.  I just don't understand why you cannot complete you tasks at the precise moment I actually want them to be completed.  Not a moment sooner or later.  Do I not make myself clear?   

Mumma, there is also the matter of your relentless insistence that I lie flat on my back for the duration of the diaper change.  Why? Can't you remove the soiled diaper and clean my bottom while I crawl?  Is it really that necessary to prevent me from getting my exercise?  Seriously Mumma, you gave birth to me and I was ten and one half pounds.  Surely you can handle changing me while I crawl.  You are indeed a joke to laugh about around the Counting Caterpillar at Playgroup. 

I do hope that this diaper changing ritual will improve.  By the way, I heard you mentioning something about a "Musical Potty" in our inventory.  The musical part sounds quite fun, but the "Potty" thing has me concerned.  Will this device annoy me?  Surely this policy will never come into effect.  At least not for a while yet.

With Regards,
Daxon

Melon-Choly

I really tried to be a good Mumma.  I really freakin' did.  I tried to make my darling son a melon dessert made from water melon, honeydew melon and cantelope.  I even sat there are PICKED OUT EVERY SEED from the watermelon.  I go put it in the blender, and I use the supposedly "handy stir sticky thing" to move the chunks around to be properly hacked into a pulp.  This thing is supposed to have a safety feature which doesn't allow the "handy stir sticky thing" to get caught in the blade.  Right?  No.  Your effin' wrong.  If it did have that safety feature, then it sucks so hard, that if it had eyes, they would be popping out, and if it had lips, they would be bruised.

So, now there are chunks of plastic lingering in the melon dessert.  Do I give up? No. Not me.  Not this Mumma.  I salvaged whatever large chunks that did not have any plastic lodged in them and put them back in the blender.  I opted a higher setting on the blender in order to maim the melon so badly it would not need any coaxing to enter the blade's grasp.  About two minutes past.  Do you think that after two minutes, something as wimpy as melon on a High/Puree setting would be pretty much dead right?  No.  Your effin' wrong again.  I came to the conclusion that my blender is a wussy-ass bitch.  Oh believe you me, I didn't stop there.  I just drained whatever juice I manage to get from the whole fiasco and served it in a sippy cup.  What you need to know about Daxon now, is that he doesn't drink anything besides his formula.  He'll have a couple sips of water and humor apple juice for a whole two sips.  I thought, after all this.  He'll just end up not wanting it at all.  Right?  No.  I was effin' wrong.   He loved it.  He drank and drank it up, but not without wearing at least half of it.  So a few minutes later, as I was trying to clean up the mess I had made in the kitchen, I forgot that Dax was sitting in his Excer-saucer soaked in Melon Juice.  He reminded me though...he sort of whined and brayed and shrivelled up his face all weird.  I laughed and explained that it is a new Baby Spa Treatment called "Mumma's Magical Melon Mask".  I said that the Children's Aid Society wouldn't do anything anyway because bad mothers don't attempt to make yummy melon desserts for their babies.  They're to busy smoking crack and yelling at trees to try in vain to give yummy melon to their poor little babies.  I think he accepted that.