The Other 10% is a Mixture of Watercolors & Weird Smells

FLASHBACK: April 28, 2014

It took us ten minutes to get Billie to brush her teeth tonight because she insisted she didn’t know how to use her legs.
Now, an hour and a half after her bedtime, she’s wide awake on her bed singing to her building blocks and drawing giraffe kitty cats.

Billie: “Daddy! Come in here and see my drawing!”
Doug: “I would, Billie, but I forgot how to use my legs.”

…I feel like 90% of parenting is passive aggressive retaliation.
And I’m totally OK with that.

The Other 10% is a Mixture of Watercolors & Weird Smells

Pj Daze

She put on these colorful pajamas and told Doug she was ready to go out for the day.
Doug told her those looked too much like pajamas so she couldn’t wear them out for the day. But, he was willing to compromise. If she could put on a skirt or something to make it look more like daytime clothes then she could wear it.
She added those equally colorful shorts you see in the photo.
…I’m interested to see if she wins this one.

image

Pj Daze

“Dude. She’s Fine.”

Doug said Billie was sick.

I said she wasn’t.

“It’s just as cough,” I said. “She’ll walk it off,” I said.

But Doug persisted. “Billie is sick,” he said.

“Right. Yea, Okay. She’ll be fine. If it persists after a week we’ll call a doctor,” I said.

That was 2 weeks ago.

Tonight Billie coughed so hard she threw up on me.

Five. Times.

Hey guys, guess what?

Billie is sick.

Siiiiiigh,

Doug is going to be UNBEARABLE after this.

“Dude. She’s Fine.”

#ThanksHalloween

credit: Vanessa Lucas (https://www.facebook.com/Just4TheeTaste?fref=ts)
Zombie Billie
credit: Vanessa Lucas (https://www.facebook.com/Just4TheeTaste?fref=ts)

Billie: “You’re wrong, mom. I did not eat the candy. I just bit it with my teeth. I said, ‘oh, yous a bad candy. I will bite your face off!’ and I bit it. I didn’t eat it, mom. My mouth just put it in time out.”

#ThanksHalloween

Our theme of the week: Healing

Before this month we had never really met the three year old boy in the apartment above us. He’s lived there for over a year but, despite our many efforts to set up a play date, we very rarely saw him.

Then, three weeks ago, his father passed away.

The mother and grandmother asked us for help so, for the last 3 weeks we’ve been watching him a couple days out of the week, 5-8 hours each time.

In all that time, he’s said 3 words to me. He refused to speak or look me in the eyes. I rarely saw him smile.
But today we had a breakthrough. He hugged me. He told me jokes. We chased squirrels together. He accidentally called me “mommy.”

Billie noticed the change, too. She said, “Wow. You’re smiling now and you have so many words!”
He responded, “Yea. My smile is getting fixed slowly. I have words now.”

I’m doing everything I can not to bubble snot cry on this here playground. That kid just showed me that it’s possible for the heart to shatter and heal at the same time.

Our theme of the week: Healing

Just Eat Your Damn Vegetables

FLASHBACK: August, 2013

“Look, daddy, everybody’s mad at you. And no one is gunna talk to you. And you’re gunna cry like a little baby!!!
Now you’re gunna go to time out, ok? And you’re gunna be really sad, ok? And I’m gunna laugh, OK?!?!”

This is what happens when we try to get billie to eat her dinner. Instead of saying “no thank you” this is what we get.
And every time she said “ok?” She made him respond in the affirmative before she continued.

I’m raising a sadist.

Just Eat Your Damn Vegetables

Since We’re Talking About Being Different (And Possibly A Bit Vain)

FLASHBACK: April 28, 2012

So Billie had picture day at school a couple months ago. Sadly, we weren’t able to get any pictures of her because we couldn’t pick her up that day and then, when they came back 3 weeks later, we were in California. LAME. But, thankfully, they gave all the kids they photographed T-shirts with their picture on them. This is the most amazing idea ever. Hand a narcissistic two-year-old a T-shirt with their own face on it. I wish I had been a part of that marketing strategy. I’d be a millionaire.

Anyways, this is a real conversation I had with Doug the other day. It made me happy.

Doug: “So, Billie’s wearing her special shirt tonight and I promised her she could wear it for school tomorrow, too. So, please. Just let her wear it or she’ll go nuts.”

Me: “Her special shirt? Which one is that?”

Doug: “The one with her picture on it. She’s obsessed. Everything I said to her tonight I also had to say to her shirt.”

Me: (I can’t help it. I’m laughing. The visual is just too much) “Wait. She made you talk to her shirt?”

Doug: “Oh yea. I’d say, ‘Goodnight Billie. I love you’ and kiss her on the forehead and she’d go, ‘Now say it to Billie, too’ and hold out her shirt. So, there I was, a grown ass man. Talking to a shirt. Felt a damn fool.”

Me: “Oh. That’s amazing. Did she make you kiss the shirt goodnight too?”

Doug: “I’d rather not say.”

Me: “You kissed her shirt goodnight, didn’t you??”

Doug: (hangs his head ashamed. Then thinks for a moment) “What is with the narcissim in this family?”

Me: “Well. Can you blame us? We’re fucking beautiful.”

Doug: “At least we know it’s genetic.”

 

I’d like to also add that Doug is an amazing father. I don’t know too many men who would willingly have a conversation with a shirt all night.

Since We’re Talking About Being Different (And Possibly A Bit Vain)