I had a serious headache yesterday. I made everyone keep the lights off around the house and I discussed a plan with LilZ to duct-tape NikkiZ’s mouth shut. For some reason, he thought that might be cruel and recommended I just stay in bed while he entertained her on the other side of the house. Whatever. I guess someone has to be the voice of sanity.
My normal triggers for increasing the pain of a headache are light and sound – but I discovered a new one yesterday. The smell of poop. Every time AndyZ pooped, the pain in my head increased 10-fold. The second I smelled it in his diaper, the pain worsened. Then – it reached maximum pain level as I changed the diaper. But the second the clean and poop-free diaper was on and the smell was gone? Back down to moderate level of pain.
You had better believe I’m going to use that to my advantage with the next severe headache. “I can NOT change that diaper! It makes my head hurt worse!” And if no one else is home but NikkiZ? You can bet she’ll be learning how to wipe poop off her brother’s butt faster than I can say, “And then get momma a beer.”
I feel a little hungover this morning, as is typically the case after a bad headache. NikkiZ decided to ease me into the day gently by waking up at 5:25am. I promptly stuck her in her high chair with some food and some play doh while I slowly but surely got myself ready to face the day. It sucks to feel like you’ve been run over by a semi but with no foggy drunken exploit memories from the night before to entertain yourself with.
In the meantime, while I try to get myself back to “normal” – or at least “less stinky” – here are some photos of the girl who barely escaped shackles and gags yesterday.
NikkiZ has picked up several interesting conversational mannerisms lately. If, of course, by “interesting” I mean “adorable as hell.” Her language is really developing and she’s starting to use words and phrases that sound hysterical coming out of such a small mouth. For example? She suddenly loves the word ridiculous. And she usually says it with an exasperated tone – That’s just RIDICULOUS. And it’s fantastic.
She also has started trying to force herself into conversation with the following segue, “Well – I did that when I was a baby.” Like – let’s say you’re telling me about that time you bought a boat and sailed on the ocean and saw a mermaid. NikkiZ would interrupt and say, “When I was a baby? I saw a mermaid too.” Oddly enough – LilZ did the same type of thing, but his transition was much different. His was always about his Pretend Grandfather. Don’t ask me who his Pretend Grandfather was, but if we were talking about something like – the circus? LilZ would say, “My Pretend Grandfather took me to the circus.” My favorite was the time he said, “My Pretend Grandfather is in heaven where everyone is naked.”
My kind of heaven, is all I’m saying.
Finally – the other thing NikkiZ is doing lately is constantly discussing what she’s going to ask Santa Clause for at Christmas. And it’s not just your typical toys and games. No. When I bought some air freshener for our house? She said she was going to ask Santa Clause for some air freshener for her room for Christmas. And after a birthday party? She said she was going to ask Santa Clause for a Diego cake like that for her birthday. I was all, “Why don’t you ask for that for your birthday instead?” “Because I want it for Christmas, Mom.”
I’ve been very busy the last few days, as demonstrated by my lack of posting. We have a friend from Seattle in town, LilZ came back from his trip out west (I’m shocked he even willingly got on the plane to come home he had so much fun), we had to go school supply shopping (my favorite time of the year), and we had not one – but two social events to attend this weekend. (One of which has video proof here. If you listen closely – you’ll get to hear my kids names! Which I don’t keep secret, I just keep them out of type to avoid future employers stumbling upon entries about their potty-training exploits.) That is exactly two more than we’ve attended in the last year, I believe. We don’t get out much.
TWO SOCIAL EVENTS. (I thought that needed repeating.)
But – to avoid any emails wondering if I had fallen off the face of the earth – I thought I would take the time to post my two favorite photos from the last few days. The truly represent the range of life with my daughter. One moment she’s making you pee on yourself you’re laughing so hard – and the next? You’re considering shipping her off to the gypsies you heard about when you were a kid. The ones your parents swore would take you. Surely they’ll take your kids, right?
We were invited to a birthday party yesterday for a little boy from NikkiZ’s school. Unfortunately, somewhere in the chain of invitation (we were invited through a few people) I missed the part about “Bring a Bathing Suit.” The mother of the little boy pieced together this amazing ensemble from her son’s wardrobe to serve as a bathing suit for NikkiZ. It is – by far – the most awesome outfit she’s been photographed in. Doncha’ think?
This photo is just as awesome, however. I was trying to get a picture of NikkiZ in the t-shirt LilZ brought her back from Sea World. She had also covered herself in stickers from the same park, I guess because they matched the shirt? Who knows. Either way – you can see how clearly pleased she was that I was taking her picture. I think this expression captures the essence of her opinion of photography in general.
Have you ever read a blog entry that made you thrilled someone else in the world thought the same way you did? Yes. Of course you have. That happened to me today. I read this entry and the following portion spoke to my SOUL.
(Disclaimer: I’m aware the entry was also about good NST results, breech babies and scheduled c-section dates. Things that are much more important than public bathroom opinions.)
I am not the squeamish sort. I sit in public bathrooms. I do not use a paper liner even when they are on offer. And if the previous tenant hasn’t flushed, I am never overly distressed; I’ll do the job myself. Using my hand. (I digress here to decry another unpalatable flavor of bathroom outlaw, the foot-flusher. I mean, Jesus, I’m not prim. But no one should have to confront anyone’s bottom-of-the-shoe-on-the-bathroom-floor germs when performing a simple flush. Foot-flushers, take warning: you are first against the wall of the stall when the revolution comes. Wait, no, second, after the black-hearted squatters.)
FINALLY. I can shout a hearty, “Here, Here!” Do you know how many times I have pretended that I care about public bathrooms? Well – let me rephrase that. I do care in the sense that – if I can avoid it – I stick to fast-food places and rest areas on road trips. I prefer not to use gas station bathrooms, especially the external ones that require a key from the cashier. (Why are those always the worst? Do people feel the need to be more disgusting because it took more effort to get there?) But overall? I just DO NOT CARE.
I don’t stress out if the toilet hasn’t been flushed and I don’t freak out if there are no liners to use. As a matter of fact, I think I’ve only used liners once or twice my whole life. And yes, I too SIT ON THE SEAT. I don’t hover. But my Lord – I have pretended that I hover in conversation before because I’m scared if I admit that I sit that those in the conversation will be so repulsed they’ll run away screaming.
Thank you, Julie. You made me feel comfortable admitting I’m comfortable sitting.
(OMG. That totally rhymed. And it would have been a great line in a musical. Much like “Once More, With Feeling.” Yes. I’m still obsessing over Buffy if you were wondering.)
Where was I? Oh, yeah. Public bathrooms. Not something I find necessary to be concerned with. I’ve never been even remotely close to being a germaphobe, so why bother flushing a toilet with my foot (And making the next person “bottom-of-the-shoe-on-the-bathroom-floor germs”) when I don’t worry about doorknobs into or out of the bathroom. I just don’t care.
I’m too busy worrying about whether or not the Krispy Kreme across town will have “Hot Fresh Now!” lights on when I take the time to drive all the way out there. Because if they don’t? It kinda makes the trip worthless.