Snausage vs. Ice Cream Truck

Instead of a toddler, we now are the temporary parents of the Snausage Dog.  He is definetely a lot older now.  He’s a lot calmer. Less barking. He still takes issues with the cats, but less so. I think he realizes that they just mock him, and he will never be able to catch them. He’s more cynical in his old age.

The creaking ceilings withe upstairs neighbors are less menacing.  He does get into it every once in a while, but not so much anymore. Most of the time, he has no issues with the neighbors walking around in their own apartment.

However, the ice cream truck. That is a different story. And that ice cream truck with his fucking song comes round every half hour starting at probably like 4 pm all the way to 8/9 pm.  And each time, Snausage needs to tell him what is what.  I agree with him, but it’s still annoying.

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I Miss My Baby!

I didn’t think it would be so hard. If you remember  few years ago when she went, I was pretty laisez-faire about it.  But this time it’s a lot harder.  I guess because her personally has developed so much, that it’s less chaotic. I miss seeing the world through her eyes. I miss talking about the weather and NY1.  (Let’s not discuss how hard it’s been on O since Charlie Rose has been off the air because of the CBS block out).  I miss looking for snails at the end of the block.  I miss running to catch the sun.  I miss the discussions after school about what she did at school. What friend did what. I even miss the 1 hour dinner rituals (you can remind me the next time I complain that it’s taken O three hours to eat dinner!!!)

Don’t get me wrong, her vacation is a great experience for her, and I will never take it away from her. And it’s good for her to be away from me. To have time with other people.  To experience the joys of camping and visiting foreign places!!  I hope I don’t cry when I see her because I don’t want her to feel guilty!

But my parents and my sister are a right pain in the ASS! With all the technology out there, can’t they just send me one picture???  Jeeze!!

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At the Airport

After the tears at the security line, I get a call half hour later:

O: Mommy, there are a lot of planes here at the airport. Look, I see one in the air.
Me: What colors are they.
O: This one is white. I don’t know which one is our plane. I don’t think it’s here yet.
Me: I’m sure it will get there [UPDATE: it actually doesn’t, but that is not O’s problem. That is Grandma and Papa’s problem.]
O: Grandma, got me cookies. Ok, bye!

I guess the tears where bought away by cookies!

Posted in International Toddler of Mystery, No longer a baby, Parents, Subway Rides and Bus Stories, What Baby Is Chatting About | Leave a comment

Goodbye Day Care

Yesterday was O’s last day at preschool/ day care. Starting in September she will be at big girl school.

As a goodbye, the teachers threw her an ice cream party (provided by moi).  The day before her ice cream party, this was the conversation we had:

O: Mommy, all my friends at school are sad.
Me: Why?
O: Because I’m leaving and I will never see them again. I think they will cry when I leave them.
Me: Will you cry?
O: No.
[we keep walking]
O: And my friends want to give me presents. And I said, What in the world you want to give me presents for? It’s not my birthday. But they said they will give me presents.

I think someone is a little full of herself!

Posted in Freaking Fours, Social Ills and such, Star of the her own movie, What Baby Is Chatting About | Leave a comment

Tattoo and Leaf

E is O’s little friend from school. He is super cute, and very polite. That is, until his mom is around at which point he become Mr. Hyde.  Really bizarre. I’m sure O does the same thing with me.

We haven’t seen E all summer because his mom pulled him out of the day care, and put him somewhere else in the city.  Randomly, on Monday morning, I saw both of them at the subway. He was in a cranky mood. He was holding 3 superhero tattoos. He was upset because he lost one already.  Then all of a sudden he turns to me and says, I want to give a tattoo to O.
Me: Oh, E. I’m sure O would be so happy to get the tattoo.  Which do you want to give her.
He looks at his choices, and gives me the Iron Man tattoo.
E: Make sure you tell her it’s from me.
Me: I certainly will. And I know that O is really excited to go to school with you in September. (silence).

That afternoon, I go to pick up O, and I tell her how I saw E, and he gave me something to give to you.  She looks at the tattoo, and it’s says, IT’S A BOY’S TATTOO!
Me: Well, yes, but it’s nice that he thought of you to give you the tattoo.
O: Ok.  Can I put it on?

Now, I have huge problems with these fake tattoos. I just don’t want her to put them on. And of course, she is obsessed with them.  We keep talking about E, and going to school. And she asked if he’s doing his homework. As we are walking by a bush, O pulls a leaf off. And it is by far the worst looking leaf you’ve ever seen. Part of it is brown and half eaten by a bug.
O: Mommy, when you see E again, can you please give him the leaf?
Me: Are you sure you don’t want to give him something… I don’t know… nicer looking?
O: No. I want to give him the leaf. Make sure you put it in your purse.

And obediently I do.  This morning, as we leave for school, she reminds me, Don’t forget to give the leaf to E, ok Mommy?

After I drop her off, I do actually run into E and his mommy. I say to him, E, Carmen wanted me to give you something. I pull out the leaf and hand it to him. Now, I would expect him to look at it and think, What the F… is this? I give her a tattoo, not just any tattoo, but a superhero tattoo, and she gives me a leaf.

He looks at it, his eyes get really big, then she says: It’s beautiful!

Ah, kids… brings tears to your eyes!

Posted in Freaking Fours, Social Ills and such, Star of the her own movie | 1 Comment


A few weeks ago, O and I come home from summer camp. She is miraculously doing something on her own in her bedroom, while I fuss around the kitchen making dinner. A few minutes later, O comes in and declares: My bangs were so crazy I had to cup them.  I look up, and there, in the middle of her forehead is a clump of recently cut hair. O, what did you do to your hair??  My shock sends her in waves of tears. Mommy, I’m sorry I cut my hair!!!  tears streaming down her little face. O, you can do whatever you want to your hair.  It’s your hair. Just remember it will take a long time for it to grow back.


The next morning, she was still upset about the hair. She made swear not to tell her teachers. Mommy, SWEAR you won’t tell the teachers! I promise, I told her. And I stuck to it. I didn’t say a word to the teachers when I dropped her off. Later on when I picked her up, one of the teachers asks me, Did you cut O’s hair?  Oh no. That was all her. She tells me that O refused to answer any questions about her hair all day.  Anytime anyone approached the subject, she just walked away.

Everyone was asking for pictures. And O refused to let me take a picture of her new bangs.  It took two weeks before her embarrassment died down enough to let me take a picture of her.

20130727_123757It’s not that bad. She just took a chuck starting from the middle of hear head and just cut.  She is very aggressively eating her veggies and fruits willing her hair to grow faster!

PS My mom is worried that I let O have her scissors in her room. Won’t she hurt herself?


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Fixing the Door

The doors to our house are probably the original doors that were put in when the house was built over 100 years ago.  They expand and contract with the weather. Because DH can’t leave well enough alone, last summer he painted the doors. Yes, they look much nicer, but the paint makes the door stick.  They were sanded down and fixed, and worked. Now these old doors, which were already giving us a headache no longer line up to closer properly.  And they because the anchor at the bottom is now missing, we had improvise and add some bricks to make sure the door opens.

O, the ever helpful elf, decided to help Daddy in his project to fix the doors.  She was right in the middle with screwdrivers and tons of encouraging words, such as, “Daddy, the door doesn’t work.”  “Daddy, you can’t close the door.” “Daddy, why aren’t you fixing the door?” “Daddy, when will you fix the door?” “Daddy, look a cat. We hate cats, right?” She is a toddler after all and gets easily distracted.  But being in the middle of the door fixing situation certainly helped Daddy!


Posted in Cats and other rodents, Father Dearest, Joys of Home Ownership, What Baby Is Chatting About | Leave a comment

Barbie Spa Day

Last night at bath time, Barbie had a much needed spa day. She had her hair shampooed and conditioned to her original silkiness.  Her hair was untangled (a very difficult procedure and quite painful for her).  An aggressive exfoliating treatment  using a Pumice stone.  A bubble bath.  Soothing discussion. And shaving of her legs using my shaver.

Mommy, Look what Barbie is doing!!!

I had to change the blade. Fortunately, none of her plastic legs were damaged.

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Waking Baby Up

Last night she came in our bed again. This time she has changed her story. Before she just waddled in. Now, she goes after the heart strings. “Mommy, it’s really hot  in my room.” Which it can be. So she comes in the bed. Which means, I go in the middle, and if DH is not in a sharing mood. I squished between poky, sharp elbows (O), and immovable mountain that is DH.  So basically, I haven’t slept.

This morning, I wake her up as soon as the alarm goes off. Because if I didn’t sleep, then she should get up and make it to work on time. I go in there, and she just moves around. I go back in 5 minutes. Mommy, can I have one more sleep??


Her room does get hot, and we were watching some show, and a commercial came for this cool pillow. She’s watching it intently, and then says, Mommy, I think I really need this. And I think she might. She sweats up her pillow like no one else I know.


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Weekend at the Beach

This weekend we escaped the heat away from New York. As we were driving back yesterday, I almost melted when I came out of the car.

As O and I were splashing around in the water this was our conversation:

O: Mommy, do you have a baby in your belly?

Me: No, why.

O: Cause your belly is so fat.  (Cackles of laughter, as she floats away.)

Thanks, O, that really nice!

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