Because He Rocks

Just felt like throwing this picture on the proverbial table.

It’s an old favorite of mine. He rocks.

Codeine and God

My back is actually feeling better today. I’m pretty surprised, considering I’m usually laid up with this type of pain for about a week before it gets better. It’s still a little tender, but much better.

So, last night I drank a cup of coffee at about 10pm. Why? Because I’m a loser and lately I’ve been getting really tired before I’m ready to sign off for the night. A little later, we popped in our latest Netflix DVD, Lord of War (pretty darn good). I kept shifting around on the couch trying to find a comfortable position.

Shifting really doesn’t help.

I caved and took a BC powder dose. Wee! This crap not only has a butt-load of aspirin in it, but it also has a nice shot of caffeine. Yay, now I had more than just the cup of coffee running through my blood.

About 30 minutes later, still in agony, I really caved and took codeine (co-codamol).

Later, at bed-time, I rolled over on my side and felt a warm hand on my lower back.

“Lord, please make my wife’s back feel better.”

Silence.

[John] “I love you.”

“Are you still talking to God?”

“No.”

“Oh. I love you, too.”

Pause.

“Amen.” (smart ass)

Pause.

[Me] “Stop trying to have a 3-way with me and God.”

I blame the codeine.

6 Years

Yesterday was the 6 year anniversary of the day my husband and I saw one another, in person, for the first time. We still celebrate that day, even though we’ve been married for over 3 years, because it was the real beginning to our romantic relationship.When I see a Ferris Wheel, fireworks, leather pants, or smell raspberry bath ‘n body works body spray, I think of that day.

That is the day I met the man I would, one day, marry. I met a person who would come to know and understand me like no other on earth. I met a man who would take me on a journey of emotion, Love being the greatest. I met the father of my children.

For that, I am grateful beyond words.

November, 2001:

Yesterday – October 1st, 2007:

His Musical Soul

My son clearly enjoys all things musical. His appreciation ranges from making odd, alien-like and sometimes Clingon, or decidedly mechanical, sounds with his own mouth, to digging the actual music that mommy and daddy listen to.Braden is thrilled to beat on pots and pans, and likes to play his own little guitar. When he hears music (of any kind… the crappy little tunes that his push-button toys play as well as anything from Gwen Stefani to Guns N Roses) he sings and dances.

His version of singing is a beautiful art to behold. Sometimes he dreamily tilts his head back and coos and wails mournfully along with a tune. At other times, he emits a shrill screaming rant, rife with emotion. And there are moments that just beg him to perform his rythmic ‘shout and bark’ style of song. You can’t witness any of it without smiling. And, if you can, then you’re a butthole.

Dancing is also something that calls to Braden’s heart and soul. The child will “dance” even when seated, and to anything even remotely musical. A crappy version of “Camptown Races” had him swaying in his highchair this morning. Upon hearing “Wind it Up” by Gwen Stefani yesterday, he held onto the arm of my office chair and bounced up and down, then swayed, stomping his feet.

When John plays his guitar, Braden can’t decide whether he is more interested in slapping the strings along with Daddy, or dancing around in a circle singing, “AH-ahhh, ahhh-ahhh, AH-AH-ahhhhhhhh!” Both are endearing and adorable.

Even the grinding, creaking sound of the cabinet doors in his bathroom enchants his little, musical soul.

He has a love affair with these cabinet doors, btw. He doesn’t even care what’s inside anymore. His greatest desire in that bathroom is to engage in endless exploration of Cabinet Door Audiology. Sometimes he is studious and serious, bordering on being Completely Zoned Out, while he’s in “cabinet mode.” Other times, he is silly and boisterous, giggling and squealing in delight at the wonders his friends (the doors) reveal to him. I wish I could capture some of that wonder in my life at my age. Wait, I have! In him.

My kid – he both ages me and keeps me young. God bless him, the cute little fart.

Unexpected Situations

INSTRUCTIONS FOR CHILD REARING, Chapter 11
*Unexpected Situations, Part 3
*What to Do When Child Attempts to Eat Own ExcrementFather:
1.) Notice that your diaperless sweetheart just dropped a log on the carpet.
2.) Realize simultaneously that he is bending over to pick it up.
3.) FREAK OUT.
4.) Start screaming – begin in normal tone of voice, quickly ramping up to intense, shrill trumpeting – “no, No, NO, NO NOOO, NOOOOOO!!!!”
5.) Jump any obstacles and rush over, grabbing the child’s arm right before disaster strikes.
6.) Hold child up in mid-air, looking bewildered and disgusted.
7.) Run out of room with child, not sure where you are going.

Mother:
1.) Be startled by your husband screaming.
2.) Look to see what is going on.
3.) Laugh. A lot.
4.) Laugh some more.
5.) Point. LAUGH.
6.) Tell your husband to put the baby in the bath tub.
7.) Help clean the child, starting by wiping the chunk of Turd off of his lip.

People, no matter how smart you think your kid is everytime he does something that seems brilliant and amazing… an episode like this will leave you wondering about the adaptive qualities of putting everything in the mouth. I mean… do our kids REALLY need to learn about the world by tasting it? Can’t God just program in, “Don’t Eat Your Own Shit, Thanks.” ?

*sigh*

But…. it WAS funny. Heh.PS: No pictures on this one, sorry. I was afraid John might actually divorce me if I went and got the camera.