Status Report.

I know you're all waiting with bated breath (*cough cough*) so, here's the deal.

Warren was fine yesterday. He cried for a few minutes when I left, but he always does that. He soon settled in and played with the other kids and napped a lot.
At drop off, I mentioned that I don't let him watch TV, so he's not allowed TV at daycare either. The daycare lady said that was no problem.
I called during the day to see how he was doing. Marticia (daycare lady) was out picking up a kid from school, so her daughter Ureshra (I swear to god. Ureshra. Although, I'm not 100 percent on the proper spelling...) was in charge of the kiddos. She told me Warren was doing just fine, had napped, then eaten some lunch and was happily...watching TV.
I was really upset during the rest of the day, thinking that she was just going to ignore everything I said, and I'm essentially paying someone to park my kid in front of the tube for 9 hours a day. So, fuck that.

But then I breathed for a few minutes and started thinking rationally. If she was going to ignore my instructions, would Ureshra have been so cavalier in telling me about it? Probably not. So, benefit of the doubt, the message didn't get passed along to Ureshra and I'll remind Marticia about it a few times and see if it sticks.

And when I went to pick him up, he was passed out cold, which is how Warren usually deals with stressful days. He was fine, happy, well-fed and smiling at the kids and the adults while we packed up and left.

So, we'll give this a few weeks and see how it feels. If I'm still concerned my instructions are being ignored, we'll find somewhere else. And in the meantime, he'll be fine. As my older sister reminded me, I had my reservations about Nana's at first too.

I was reading through some comments from the other day, and my dear darling Nathalie reminded me that I had to trust my gut, and that I know my kid best. Both excellent points. For normal people. Problem being, my gut is often not operating on instinct or even rationality. Or maybe I just can't tell my gut from my sick sense of paranoia. So, maternal instincts? Not so much. Gory imagination? More likely. Someone doesn't call me when they are supposed to, I immediately fly to "This person is obviously dead on the roadside." Sound healthy or reasonable? Welcome to my brain. Or maybe it's just way too many Law and Order re-runs. Screw it, who can resist the charms of Lenny Briscoe, and Detective Stabler? Not this broad.

And that, my friends, is the state of the Warren Daycare Union.

And now I have to let you in on a glimpse of what being married to me is like.
The other night I was getting ready to make dinner. Since my home has about one square foot of useable counter space, a few minutes are spared to tidy the kitchen. Whilst tidying, I found the tops to some tupperware type containers, just sitting on the counter.
And I started building a head of steam. It starts with harsh thoughts and eventually leads to some muttering: "Goddamnit, why must we leave shit all over the counter? Is it SO HARD to put things where they belong? OH NO! This is even dirty. Just throw it in the sink! Fucking A!"
Now, usually this is where I start actually yelling at other people, mostly Xtian (because he is legally bound to like me).
Just as I opened my mouth to start the tirade I realized, much to my shame, I was the asshole who left the tupperware on the counter.

I'm a total jerk. But lest you think I'm a nagging harridan, and too hard on Xtian, I did immediately confess my retardedness. It's a good thing I cook, put out, and make cute babies. Why else would anyone ever stay married to me?

Funniest sentence ever. If you're a 14-year-old boy

So, unwed teenage mama, Jamie Lynn Spears, gave birth to a baby girl. From the news story announcing the birth:
"Maddie Briann is the first child for Spears and her 19-year-old fiance, Casey Aldridge, a pipe layer."

And the punchline? "I'll say he's laid some pipe."

"So, I think you gave me HPV" so sayeth the asshat.

Ah yes, I have a blog. I remember now…

So, the movie Beerfest is hysterical. Decidedly lowbrow, the movie is self-aware enough to mock itself. And that, my friends, goes a long way with me. Any person, movie, song, institution or religion that can’t make fun of itself has no place in my life.
I’ve always lived by the idea that if I can’t laugh at myself then I can’t laugh at other people. And, let’s be honest, laughing at other people is one of my favorite pastimes.
I guess this is the main reason I love Ben Folds, and supremely stupid movies, and the reason I hang out with the people I do. The old axiom “don’t take life too seriously, you’ll never get out alive” is kind of how I live my life.

My father, meanwhile, just thinks I’m a sarcastic ass for this same reason. And maybe I am, but I daresay I’m having much more fun and am a bit more self-aware than he.

~~~

You know how, before you go to the dentist you spend about 3 hours flossing and brushing meticulously, only to finish up with a 20-minute swish of Listerine? Yeah, well, since I had to go to the dentist TWICE in five days, I said, “Fuck that.”

Instead, I ate a delightful bowl of clam chowder, washed it down with a Dr. Pepper, popped a piece of gum, and sat down in the dentist’s chair. It was awesome. I can’t recommend it enough. Especially since he didn’t notice. Why should I bother with the extra cleaning (what with me being a fastidious dental hygiene enthusiast anyway) since he’s still going to doubt my honest answer to the predictable flossing question? My response, “Every day” is met with a suspicious and arrogant lift of the eyebrow and a kind of disbelieving “mmmmmhmmmm”. Look here jerk, I have good teeth, I brush 2+ times a day, floss at least once a day, there isn’t anything wrong with my teeth, so ease off on the stink eye, eh?

Fucking dentists.

(And for those wondering, no, the title quote was not directed at me, and nobody gave anybody HPV in this scenario. As stated, the accuser was simply being an asshat.)