Teaching Baby to Cuss Like a Drunken Sailor

Expletive Alert!!!

We just moved into our new house and inevitably I was the first one to ding the truck in the garage.  It’s not even like I pulled in too far or not far enough.  I put it in drive when I mean to reverse. 

These kinds of life mistakes are the worst kinds.  First of all, you have no one to blame but yourself. 

Let’s explore.  Pull into garage.  Exit vehicle.  Determine there is not enough room for garage door to close.  Re-enter vehicle.  Put car in drive.  Go forward.  Hit staircase.  Yell FUCK!  Put truck in park.  Exit vehicle.  Examine ‘damage.  Yell FUCK! again.   Get back in truck and reverse 3 inches.  Exit vehicle.  Look at damage again.  FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! Who FUCKING cares?!?  Shut off vehicle.  Worry about carbon monoxide. Close garage door.  Examine clearance between door and truck.  3 cm’s.  Phew, that was close.  Stand there looking at truck and said clearance.  Examine clearance in front of truck.  8 inches.  Look down at chubby body.  Look back at salt covered vehicle.  Are you FUCKING kidding me?  Why is this my life?  God, I love you – what did I ever do?  Think to self, these were nice pants.  Squeeze through small opening.  Curse day I was born.  Get to other side of truck and realise there is not really enough room to get baby out of truck.  Open door.  Ding door on garage wall.  Say FUCK IT!  Smile at baby.  Wrangle babe out of chair (don’t ask how!)  Hold baby over head while trying to get back around.  Eventually sit baby on truck hood.  Squeeze through tiny opening.  Grab baby.

Later….

Me:  I dinged the truck.

BD:  What!!!  How?

Me:  That garage is not a double.  There is barely enough room end to end for the truck.

BD:  It is so big enough.

Me:  Not really.  Cause I mean, obviously I hit something.

BD:  Nag.

Me:  I said sorry.  It was an accident.

BD: Nag.

BD: Nag.

BD: Nag.

End Story

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Resolution City

I have thought long and hard about even doing up a resolution list this year. I don’t usually do it, but for some reason I can’t resist this year. I think I might know why. I am a new person. I am not the same girl as the last 29 New Year’s. To begin, I am not a girl anymore. I am a woman and I am a mother and I also know that I am capable of anything.

Being a mom is hands down the most difficult job on earth. If you have the committment and drive to make it work, than a measly resolution list should be nothing.

Here goes:

  1. Stop smoking for good. Yes, I have been smoking occasionally. Yes, I hate myself every time I light up. Yes, I know the potential repercussions of my actions. No, I won’t make excuses.
  2. Lose weight. How predictable!
  3. Stop wearing jogging pants and start wearing real clothes. If you saw my ‘outside of work’ wardrobe you would actually start clapping for this one.
  4. Be a good employee (as I sit here at work typing up this post…) and try for that promotion.
  5. Be a better wife. Having a baby always sometimes makes me forget that I am a wife. That I have a husband who needs love as much as he ever did. He wants a kiss or a hug, he wants loving words instead of barked orders or sarcastic comments and most of all he wants his wife back.
  6. Stop focusing on the future and when baby number two should make his arrival. Focus on right now and enjoy every single minute of every day with the baby that is here.

Done. I wanted to add to start running since it is a bucket list item of mine but let’s be realistic. There is no way I am going to start running outside of an act of God. Literally. Jesus would have to show up at my door with a track suit and running shoes and make me go around the block with him. Let’s just save that one for, ummm…..2012?

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Saying Goodbye to 2010

 

Wazzup Bitches?!?  Miss me?  Just lie and say yes.  I Rode The Short Bus was super busy over the holidays and I just checked it today.  I should have posted at least a couple of times as to not disappoint my fans.  Yes, I am talking to the two of you.

I am kind of sad to say goodbye to 2010.  It has been the best and the worst year of my life.  Mostly the best though.

2010 Recap: 

  • After 90 hours of excruciating, back-breaking labour, my beautiful baby boy was born.
  • The Olympics were in Canada and we simultaneously rocked the house and showed the world how much beer we can actually drink.
  • I became a mother – mentally as opposed to physically.  Giving birth sucks ass but the transition of letting go of yourself and becoming a mom sucks ass even more.
  • I saw, after 10 years of near bliss, all of my husband’s faults.
  • I forgave my husband’s faults.
  • I lost all 70 pounds I put on during my pregnancy (if you are new to IRTSB, yes – I put on 70 pounds when I was preggo…it’s ok to be completely appalled and judge me).
  • We bought a house and were able to get a mortgage to keep our current condo and rent it out…woot woot!
  • I was a good person this year.  Usually I am an asshole, so this counts for something.
  • I kind of learnt how to use Microsoft Office 2007.  I mean not really, but at least I can navigate around a little bit.  You know what is sucks?  Being a young person and having to ask the old creepy guy at work with a comb over how to insert something into Excel.

So, may not seem like much, but those are some major accomplishments.  Way to go me!

For the last 3 hours I have been running over options for my new year’s resolutions.  I generally don’t do up a list – leads to disappointment and all that, but I actually think I am going to put pen down to paper for 2011.  I’ll be back tomorrow with my list.

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Day 3: Something you have to forgive yourself for.

I haven’t done a 30 Days of Truth post in a while and it’s because I knew this was the topic for day 3.  At first nothing came to mind and then when something did – I just didn’t want to post about it.  

I have to forgive myself for being fat, stupid, for smoking (don’t worry, I quit as soon as I found out about babe!), for not exercising enough, for waiting too long to contact a midwife, for not hiring a doula, for not saying no to family who ALL wanted to be here for the babe’s birth and for having a c-section.

I have yet to forgive myself for all of these things but I must.  With thoughts of babe #2 already shitting dancing in my head, I have enough clarity of mind to recognise that if I don’t work on myself first – I could end up with the same outcome.

I may also avoid Day 4’s post.  Just didn’t want you to be surprised if I disappear as fast as a fat kid’s twinkie.

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retail therapy

Nothing soothes the soul like spending money you don’t have.  Enter purchase of ring that is big black flower which covers whole hand.  Am still convinced this was a good buy and will make me look “cool” when I return to work.

This is how I spent my first day alone, sans bebe.  Okay it was a half day – but still.  I bought makeup, a pair of shoes, 3 shirts and two rings.  This accomplished a few things, the first of which is that I will look stunning on Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday.  Not sure about Thursday and Friday…maybe I will call in sick.   Secondly, being in public did not allow me to cry hysterically about abandoning my son at daycare.

Truth is that retail therapy is so effective that as the morning wore on, I noticed something amazing.  It was the first time (the first 4 hour time span) in 9 months, 19 days and like 12 hours that I wasn’t worried about my baby.  These women have been caring for babies just like mine for 20 years.  They know cpr and first aid.  They will not text or call me to ask what to do when he cries, poops, won’t eat/sleep/poop. 

Although I still wish that I could be home with him, this breakthrough did wonders for my state of mind. 

Babe did great by the way.  Thankfully he did notice my absence – but he managed to eat, play, cry, poop and nap in an unfamiliar setting. 

Need I say how hard it can be to poop in an unfamiliar setting?

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shitting my pants

I bet you thought this was going to be yet another story about the shit that seemingly loves to explode out of my son’s ass?  Nope.  It’s my ass this time.

Babe starts day care on Wednesday.  I can not even put into words how this is making me feel.  I never wanted him to go to daycare.  I always wanted to stay home with him.  The reality is that I knew I had to go back to work from the second we decided to have a baby.  There are too many factors that I can’t ignore.  The first is that we live in a one bedroom condo.  The second is that we couldn’t afford to lose half our income.  The third is that with more babies planned in my head – I have to do the fiscally responsible thing and just go.back.to.work.

Sigh.  It took me some time to find a place I considered suitable and I had the highest standards as I searched.  Although he hasn’t started yet, I feel good about the day care I chose and I know it will be okay.  But what about all those days/weeks/months until it is ok?

My stomach hurts all day, every day.  I worry.  I cry.  I glare at people who tell me that I will come to enjoy having him out of the house and will even leave him in daycare on days off.  I glare at people who tell me that they could never do it, never leave their child in someone elses care.  I cry.

Everyday for the last week or so I have been reminding myself of all the great things about day care.  All the great things that I can’t offer my son.  It’s working to some extent…I am slightly less consumed with sadness – but there is a little voice in my head who mouths off and tells me that no care is as good as a mother’s care.  Fuck you, you mouthy little shit.  Like I need someone or something else confirming what I already know.

And so bloggy friends, here we go.  2.5 days and counting.

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Day 2: Something you love about yourself.

I am a really nice person.  Seriously, I am kind.  I think of others all.the.time.  It’s weird ‘cause I am such a bitch that the two should be opposed – but they are not.  I can mentally make fun of the fat kid who answers the door as I am dropping off a basket for his mom so they have something to eat that week. 

BD has a love/hate relationship with it.  I think in theory he likes it but in practicality it annoys him.

This post is freaking me out.  It was way easier to write about something I hate about myself.  I wonder what that says about me?

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