I should be working right now. That's the problem when you work from home, it's so easy to get distracted. Here is an example of a conversation I've had in my head, while I'm working at home: "Hey Larissa, do you want to work or do you think you should watch that episode of Game Of Thrones you PVR'd? "
Anyhow, I was supposed to have a birthday party for Dex but he got sick. Ah well, I hate cleaning up after those things anyhow. Nothing but condoms and pills left behind.
We live in Toronto and it's no secret that housing prices are ridiculous. Will and I bought in the East End of the city in 2008. Even back then we paid far too much for the house we have but whatever. Toronto is where we want to live so you just have to accept that this is the way it goes. Our neighborhood, as I have mentioned in other blogs, isn't exactly the most upscale of 'hoods. It's not the worst neighborhood in the city, but its got some "elements" to put it nicely. In fact, about 6 months ago there was a big prostitution bust at our main intersection. That, in itself, is not really shocking. There's prostitutes everywhere and who really cares. To me the bit that was slightly unnerving was that one of the prostitutes was 68. Lets do the math here. You're 68, which probably means you've been a prostitute since your early 20's, maybe even earlier. But wait. I'm jumping to conclusions here. Maybe she was a high-powered judge, living in BelAir with her 3 gorgeous children, while also taking in her wise cracking nephew. What do I know. Anythings possible. But lets assume she didn't have a mid-life crisis and decide to start hookin' (street lingo for hooking) when she was a younger woman. That's about 48 years as a pro-stitute. No amateurs on this corner. That is downright nasty.
I've lost my point here. My point is, before Dex, this kind of stuff rolled off my back. It was kind of funny that 68 year old women were spending their golden years giving Golden showers by the Golden Arches at Vic Park and the Danforth. I liked that my neighborhood had some grit to it. Now, it angers me and every idiot I see drinking Labatt Blue at 9am on their government funded porch, pisses me off. It's the part of Maternal Instinct they leave out of the baby books.
On the other hand, if I didn't live here, I wouldn't have any material for this blog, or at least very little.
Here's a doozie. As I mentioned, Dex was sick last week. I stayed home with him all week because it was the kind of illness you can't dump on your daycare, although there were days I really wanted to. Total gong show of a week. Anyhow, Dex was feeling slightly better so I walked to the Scotiabank at Danforth and Main. It was about 4 o'clock and the actual bank was closed but the machines were open. Dex and I were the only ones in there until this absolute bat shit crazy woman came rambling through the door with her cart of crap. I usually know, or recognize, most of these people in the neighborhood, and for the most part, they're pretty harmless. In fact, it's the super crazy ones that I have a heart for. It's not their fault. The crack heads, on the other hand, are the scummiest and scariest. They're too unpredictable and is it just me or do crackheads always seem like they're in a rush? Where the hell do they have to go except to score more crack? Anyhow, this woman comes into the bank machine area and is muttering to herself. It looked as though she had recently shaved her head and it was good to see that she was keeping warm as it appeared as if she was wearing about 14 layers. Anyhow, she went up to a bank machine and just started losing it! SHe started swearing like crazy and getting louder and louder. At this point I started to freak out slightly, it was kind of scary. I was desperately trying to finish depositing my $500,000 cheques before she totally lost it. As her voice starts getting louder, Dex gets scared and now he starts crying, while this lunatic is saying every variation of Fuck you can imagine. I grab my bank card out of the machine and just as I quickly get all my stuff together, the swearing stops for a split second. Now I hear something else. It's a recognizable sound, I've heard it before. Birds chirping? Nope. Harps harpsichording? Nope. Crazy ass woman pee'ing herself right on the bank machine floor in broad daylight? Ding!Ding!Ding! That's the sound. It occurred to me later that she obviously didn't have anything on under her 4 skirts because the pee hit the floor with such gusto there was certainly nothing in it's way. I get the hell out of there and calm Dex down by cuddling him and promising him a timbit, at the Tim Hortons on the corner. He settles down and so do I, slightly. We get to the Tim Hortons and the aforementioned crackhead who opens the door all day is there with his cracky girlfriend who is doing that weird cracked out dance. You know the one? It's sort of half jitterbug, 1/2 shimmy with a tiny dash of spaz? As we're approaching the door, I see some other guy come and pass the door-opening crackhead drugs. Nice. The crackhead makes eye contact with me, I look away and go inside. I come out to find the drug dealer and the two crack heads in a full on brawl. I don't know what the hell happened but they're all yelling at one another and whatever has calmed Dex down has now stopped working and he's crying again. I literally break out into a run to get off of this corner. I'm clear of the madness when I look down and see that I've nearly rolled the stroller over a dead pigeon.
Needless to say, I can only take so much, no matter how good of a story it makes. We're moving out of this neighborhood one of these days. I just need to find a few extra hundred thousand. I anyone has any ideas as to how I can, very quickly, round up a few hundred grand, I'm open to suggestions. The obvious answer is to sell drugs. I think I may know some one who is upset with their current supplier.
Showing posts with label dexter. Show all posts
Showing posts with label dexter. Show all posts
Tuesday, April 10, 2012
Tuesday, March 8, 2011
Weird things of late
First of all, I've never watched The Apprentice before, let alone the Celebrity Apprentice but any T.V show that puts L'il John and Gary Busey together, is screaming for me to watch it.
So I feel like the winter is making everyone, myself included, pretty effing squirrly. Can we please just get to April already!?! This winter has been brutal and, like every other winter, I question why we live here. Then I read the paper and I realize why.
Then I go to Scarborough and I question my choices again.
I went to the Costco in Scarborough the other day. There aren't any in the city.To begin, you know you're getting old when you get a Costco membership for Christmas. No one says to a spunky 24 year old girl, "Here, Have a Costco membership! You can get all of your paper towels, cat food and diapers for so much cheaper than the grocery stores." I tell ya, if I had a Costco membership when I was 24 I would be getting giant packages of giant condoms. Cause I was getting so much. HI-YOOOOOOOO. I would probably have also gotten a lot of perogies.
Anyhow, I'm in the produce section when a woman who really had that Scarborough air about her approached me and Dexter. Dexter is going to be 1 in a few weeks so he is absolutely ridiculously cute and gets approached by a lot of people, cause he's so effing gorgeous. She says in a pack-a-day voice, "He's so cute, how old is he?"
I say, "Nearly a year." I look in her buggy and she has a car seat with a newborn in it. I look in and say, "She's so beautiful, congratulations."
"Thanks" she replies.
Then she leans in close enough so that I can smell mock chicken, Players extra light and semen. She says, "You'd shit yourself if you knew I had 6 others at home."
Wow.
I mean, seriously, wow.
You're right lady. I have just shit my pants right here in front of the ceaser salad sample lady. I don't know what's more disturbing; the tear you have tattooed down your cheek, the fact that you have 7 children or that you've just said to a complete stranger, "You would SHIT yourself". She could have said, "you would be surprised", or "can you believe" but nope, she went right for it. Anyhow, as I shuddered away from her I thought to myself, it's time Costco in Scarborough started to sell club packs of birth control.
Not that I'm some high-society flyer. I went up to Markham, baby in tow, to fight a parking ticket, this week.
Here's the thing. The parking ticket is only $30.00 but when you're getting them on a semi-regular basis, you have to fight the man. If you fight your ticket, there is a small chance you'll have to go to court. Most of the time they get lost and you hear nothing of them. It's a bit of effort to take them downtown to fight, but worth it if you're getting a lot of them. Anyhow, I actually had to go to court for one we got in 2009. We had gotten it on my father-in-laws car, parked in front of our house. Bringing the baby with me, I knew I would get attention and that I could treat the experience with a light heart. That's one of the best things about having a baby by your side; everyone is way nicer to you and you can get away with a lot more.
Here's an example.
As I was walking through security the cop asked me, "What are you here for?" I replied, fist pumped in the air,"JUSTICE!"
He laughed. Now if I didn't have the baby with me he probably would have thought I was a jackass and a weirdo. The baby is a great accessory for comedy. People assume, if you're a Mom, that you're a responsible, tax paying citizen. Little do they know.
So now we're in the courtroom, along with about 20 other people who are after justice. I was the first person up to fight for my rights. They say a bunch of stuff, and the judge looks at Dexter and says "Is this Michael Macky?" The courtroom giggles. Ok, cool, this judge wants to joke around. I think we all know that Dexter isn't the one who got the parking ticket. I say, "No, this is my lawyer." The courtroom laughs even harder than before. "ORDER IN THE COURT!" I yell. No, just kidding, I didn't do that. The judge didn't even crack a smile at my joke, I think he was pissed I got a bigger laugh. Anyhow, the ticket was reduced to $10 from $30. That's what always happens if you just plead guilty. Did I drive all the way up to Markham to save $20? Yup, and I'll do it again City of Toronto by-law a-holes.
If anyone wants me to go and fight a parking ticket on their behalf, let me know. I'm pretty much V.I.P up there.
So I feel like the winter is making everyone, myself included, pretty effing squirrly. Can we please just get to April already!?! This winter has been brutal and, like every other winter, I question why we live here. Then I read the paper and I realize why.
Then I go to Scarborough and I question my choices again.
I went to the Costco in Scarborough the other day. There aren't any in the city.To begin, you know you're getting old when you get a Costco membership for Christmas. No one says to a spunky 24 year old girl, "Here, Have a Costco membership! You can get all of your paper towels, cat food and diapers for so much cheaper than the grocery stores." I tell ya, if I had a Costco membership when I was 24 I would be getting giant packages of giant condoms. Cause I was getting so much. HI-YOOOOOOOO. I would probably have also gotten a lot of perogies.
Anyhow, I'm in the produce section when a woman who really had that Scarborough air about her approached me and Dexter. Dexter is going to be 1 in a few weeks so he is absolutely ridiculously cute and gets approached by a lot of people, cause he's so effing gorgeous. She says in a pack-a-day voice, "He's so cute, how old is he?"
I say, "Nearly a year." I look in her buggy and she has a car seat with a newborn in it. I look in and say, "She's so beautiful, congratulations."
"Thanks" she replies.
Then she leans in close enough so that I can smell mock chicken, Players extra light and semen. She says, "You'd shit yourself if you knew I had 6 others at home."
Wow.
I mean, seriously, wow.
You're right lady. I have just shit my pants right here in front of the ceaser salad sample lady. I don't know what's more disturbing; the tear you have tattooed down your cheek, the fact that you have 7 children or that you've just said to a complete stranger, "You would SHIT yourself". She could have said, "you would be surprised", or "can you believe" but nope, she went right for it. Anyhow, as I shuddered away from her I thought to myself, it's time Costco in Scarborough started to sell club packs of birth control.
Not that I'm some high-society flyer. I went up to Markham, baby in tow, to fight a parking ticket, this week.
Here's the thing. The parking ticket is only $30.00 but when you're getting them on a semi-regular basis, you have to fight the man. If you fight your ticket, there is a small chance you'll have to go to court. Most of the time they get lost and you hear nothing of them. It's a bit of effort to take them downtown to fight, but worth it if you're getting a lot of them. Anyhow, I actually had to go to court for one we got in 2009. We had gotten it on my father-in-laws car, parked in front of our house. Bringing the baby with me, I knew I would get attention and that I could treat the experience with a light heart. That's one of the best things about having a baby by your side; everyone is way nicer to you and you can get away with a lot more.
Here's an example.
As I was walking through security the cop asked me, "What are you here for?" I replied, fist pumped in the air,"JUSTICE!"
He laughed. Now if I didn't have the baby with me he probably would have thought I was a jackass and a weirdo. The baby is a great accessory for comedy. People assume, if you're a Mom, that you're a responsible, tax paying citizen. Little do they know.
So now we're in the courtroom, along with about 20 other people who are after justice. I was the first person up to fight for my rights. They say a bunch of stuff, and the judge looks at Dexter and says "Is this Michael Macky?" The courtroom giggles. Ok, cool, this judge wants to joke around. I think we all know that Dexter isn't the one who got the parking ticket. I say, "No, this is my lawyer." The courtroom laughs even harder than before. "ORDER IN THE COURT!" I yell. No, just kidding, I didn't do that. The judge didn't even crack a smile at my joke, I think he was pissed I got a bigger laugh. Anyhow, the ticket was reduced to $10 from $30. That's what always happens if you just plead guilty. Did I drive all the way up to Markham to save $20? Yup, and I'll do it again City of Toronto by-law a-holes.
If anyone wants me to go and fight a parking ticket on their behalf, let me know. I'm pretty much V.I.P up there.
Tuesday, October 5, 2010
What am I doing wrong?
I was just reading over some of my past blogs and I've noticed something. Odd things happen to me. I'm approached by weirdo's, I have public mishaps and I don't really know why. Will says it's because I stare at people too much; I guess that explains the weirdos. One time in Vancouver I stared at this weird guy for too long. It wasn't my fault, he was half way through a sex change and I dare you to name me one person who wouldn't look at that for a second longer than appropriate. The guy is walking towards me really quickly. Now I see that not only is he in the midst of a huge life change, but he also has "crazy" gleaming in his heavily made up eye. As he passes me, he extends his right arm and clotheslines me, right in front of a sidewalk cafe! Because he/she was going at such a fast clip, I stumbled backwards and almost landed on a baby carriage. The woman screeches and tries to push me out of the way. Now I'm falling in the opposite direction. It all happened in about 2 seconds but it was total chaos. The people at the cafe thought he/she had stabbed me and one nice man asked, "Should I go after him". I answered, "Uh no, he's crazy and you can't chase crazy out of someone." I decided to stop slack-jaw staring at people.
Now last week Dexter and I went to Winners at Yonge and Bloor. In the beginning I was way more apprehensive of taking the baby with all the shit, into the heart of the city. Not because I was worried about safety or anything, more because it's a giant pain in the ass. Now I don't really care and if me and my buggy seem to bother people, that's their problem. I was in a line-up waiting to buy a pair of shoes. The woman who was at the till was taking FOREVER and people started jumping out of line out of annoyance. A guy game and opened up a second cash and said, "I can help someone over here." The 2nd woman in line went to the new till and now I was third in line at the annoying till. So, I decided to jump into the new line too, becoming second in line. Now I don't know what your philosophy on line-ups might be, but to me, if someone opens a new till, you can either keep your spot in the original line or roll the dice and jump into the new line. It might be the right decision, it may not but that's how it works....to me. This was not the line-up philosophy shared by the she-beast who was second in the original line. As soon as I went up to the till to pay for my shoes, she came white-trashing her way over and slammed the stupid thermos she was buying on the counter and yelled, "EXCUSE ME BUT I WAS NEXT IN LINE AND YOU CUT IN LINE AND YOU ARE RUDE AND OBNOXIOUS." I don't normally use this word, but I was flabbergasted. I didn't know what the hell she was talking about so I very smoothly answered," wuh wuh wuh wuh wuhhhhht?" Fat White Trash answers "I WAS WAITING NEXT IN LINE AND YOU SHOVED AHEAD OF AND YOU'RE RUDE AND DISREPECTFUL". Now I have a handle on what's going on and I am burning with rage and want to unleash a tirade of motha fucka's on her but I see her 6 year old and her 2 year old staring up at us with sheer terror in their eyes. I have a feeling they've heard her go nutso more than once. I gave them a sympathetic look that said, "sorry that you had to be her egg. I hope at least one of your Daddies is rich." At this point there is honestly a crowd gathering.Anyhow, instead of showing her how many ways I could call her female gentalia, I decided to take the
high road and said, " I think you're confused. You could have done the same thing I did. You chose the wrong line". Fat White Trash responds, "YOU'RE RUDE AND DISRESPECTFUL AND I WON'T LET YOU BUD IN LINE." Now I'm starting to lose control and for just a split second contemplate throwing my shoes at her and running. What is wrong with people? If she really thought I had wronged her, why couldn't she just calmly tell me how she felt. I'm a rational person. I would have laughed it off, apologized for the misunderstanding and let her go ahead. Instead, she chose to go menopausal on me and freak the eff out. I decide to hit low and say, "This is a fine example you're setting for your children." See, when someone is screaming and going nuts, the best idea is to calmly attack their character, I recommend going for the kids and their inability to raise them. I was pretty proud of myself until she started to slowly walk towards me. Now she's about a foot in front of my face and I'm thinking, "Oh shit, am I going to have to throw down at the Winners? I don't know how to throw down. I'm fucked." She sticks he finger in my face and yells,"I'M SETTING A GREAT EXAMPLE FOR THEM! I'M SHOWING THEM NOT TO GET PUSHED AROUND!" I could smell the ham on her breath. I figured this woman had been in a few dust ups in her day so I stepped back and said. "Alright, just pay for your stuff." In the meantime, the pimply cashier said, "Ladies, ladies please". HIlarious. This poor teenage boy didn't learn how to deal with this in Winners training. Anyhow the moral of the story is....I don't really know but it took a few drinks to calm down after than one. THe next day a psychic in Loblaws talked to Dex and I for 40 minutes. I really have to stop making eye contact. That story to follow.
Now last week Dexter and I went to Winners at Yonge and Bloor. In the beginning I was way more apprehensive of taking the baby with all the shit, into the heart of the city. Not because I was worried about safety or anything, more because it's a giant pain in the ass. Now I don't really care and if me and my buggy seem to bother people, that's their problem. I was in a line-up waiting to buy a pair of shoes. The woman who was at the till was taking FOREVER and people started jumping out of line out of annoyance. A guy game and opened up a second cash and said, "I can help someone over here." The 2nd woman in line went to the new till and now I was third in line at the annoying till. So, I decided to jump into the new line too, becoming second in line. Now I don't know what your philosophy on line-ups might be, but to me, if someone opens a new till, you can either keep your spot in the original line or roll the dice and jump into the new line. It might be the right decision, it may not but that's how it works....to me. This was not the line-up philosophy shared by the she-beast who was second in the original line. As soon as I went up to the till to pay for my shoes, she came white-trashing her way over and slammed the stupid thermos she was buying on the counter and yelled, "EXCUSE ME BUT I WAS NEXT IN LINE AND YOU CUT IN LINE AND YOU ARE RUDE AND OBNOXIOUS." I don't normally use this word, but I was flabbergasted. I didn't know what the hell she was talking about so I very smoothly answered," wuh wuh wuh wuh wuhhhhht?" Fat White Trash answers "I WAS WAITING NEXT IN LINE AND YOU SHOVED AHEAD OF AND YOU'RE RUDE AND DISREPECTFUL". Now I have a handle on what's going on and I am burning with rage and want to unleash a tirade of motha fucka's on her but I see her 6 year old and her 2 year old staring up at us with sheer terror in their eyes. I have a feeling they've heard her go nutso more than once. I gave them a sympathetic look that said, "sorry that you had to be her egg. I hope at least one of your Daddies is rich." At this point there is honestly a crowd gathering.Anyhow, instead of showing her how many ways I could call her female gentalia, I decided to take the
high road and said, " I think you're confused. You could have done the same thing I did. You chose the wrong line". Fat White Trash responds, "YOU'RE RUDE AND DISRESPECTFUL AND I WON'T LET YOU BUD IN LINE." Now I'm starting to lose control and for just a split second contemplate throwing my shoes at her and running. What is wrong with people? If she really thought I had wronged her, why couldn't she just calmly tell me how she felt. I'm a rational person. I would have laughed it off, apologized for the misunderstanding and let her go ahead. Instead, she chose to go menopausal on me and freak the eff out. I decide to hit low and say, "This is a fine example you're setting for your children." See, when someone is screaming and going nuts, the best idea is to calmly attack their character, I recommend going for the kids and their inability to raise them. I was pretty proud of myself until she started to slowly walk towards me. Now she's about a foot in front of my face and I'm thinking, "Oh shit, am I going to have to throw down at the Winners? I don't know how to throw down. I'm fucked." She sticks he finger in my face and yells,"I'M SETTING A GREAT EXAMPLE FOR THEM! I'M SHOWING THEM NOT TO GET PUSHED AROUND!" I could smell the ham on her breath. I figured this woman had been in a few dust ups in her day so I stepped back and said. "Alright, just pay for your stuff." In the meantime, the pimply cashier said, "Ladies, ladies please". HIlarious. This poor teenage boy didn't learn how to deal with this in Winners training. Anyhow the moral of the story is....I don't really know but it took a few drinks to calm down after than one. THe next day a psychic in Loblaws talked to Dex and I for 40 minutes. I really have to stop making eye contact. That story to follow.
Monday, June 28, 2010
Strangers in the Night...
Bonjour,
I'm evidently not the most dedicated blogger as it's been yonkers since I've posted my last blog. To let you know what I've been up to:
I played at the World Cup
Slept with Jon Gosslin (again)
Threw some poop in American Apparel at the G20 and snorted some volcanic ash. Anyhoo, I'm back and I've got a boeuf. Yup a bouef. Dexter is now 3 months and is cute as anything, really becoming a little hilarious baby. Of course, like any hilarious little babies, he has not- so-hilarious, meltdowns. The other day I was in Shoppers Drug Mart and one such meltdown occured. I knew why, it was time for him to eat but I was forcing him to stay out because I had shit to do. Anyhow, he's SCREAMING like I was poking him with a hot iron rod (which is how I got pregnant in the first place. HII OHHHHH) and of course everyone is staring and giving me those "oh poor you looks" when to be honest, I don't really care if he's screaming. I mean, he's a baby and it happens and there's no need for sympathy or empathy or apathy or anything ending in thy. Needless to say, a woman in front of me turns to me and says , "Oh dear, I really think he's hungry." REALLY? You don't fucking say. Thanks for that profound parenting tip stranger with dry genitals (she was buying Vagisil, for real). So I race out of the Shoppers because I'm afraid my inner thoughts might become outer soon and I don't need another public confrontation with a stranger again(please refer to my real life story about a swearing match I had with an Angela Lansbury look-a-like at Compuserve, posted on Facebook).
I get home and take him to the Breast-aurant and all is good.
The next day I go to Sobey's (because my life is about baby and chores at the moment) and this super weird cashier, who I try to avoid when I need to by groceries, starts cooing and talking to Dex. To give you an idea of how weird Toula is (that's her name) she sort of looks like a cross between an old Angelica Houston and a bearded dragon, in other words, very amphibious. On top of that, she has possibly the worst bangs I've ever seen. I wouldn't be so mean about her looks if she wasn't such a douche baguette. I've seen her get annoyed with bag boys, she got pissed at another cashier for borrowing her pen and she even told me to hurry up when I was packing my groceries. So there's Angelica Lizard talking to my baby. She asks me what his name is, I tell her "Dexter". "Oh" she replies, "my friend has a dog named Dexter. That's a dogs name." "Right, I guess so", I respond........."Toula". Like what the eff kind of a name is Toula anyhow but that's besides the point. Am I wrong to think it's rude for a stranger to tell you that your child has a dogs name? I know there's lots of animals with dogs names like Max, or Bailey or Mr.BoJangles but it's just not polite to tell a stranger that their baby has a dogs name. Maybe that stupid dog has a baby's name, has she ever thought of that? Anyhow, my bouef is with strangers who mess with you and your baby. Either tell me how cute he is or eff off. So that's my bouef for the moment. Other than that, things are good. I love summer and Mat leave. Stay tuned for more amazing blog posts brought to you my an amazing woman.
I'm evidently not the most dedicated blogger as it's been yonkers since I've posted my last blog. To let you know what I've been up to:
I played at the World Cup
Slept with Jon Gosslin (again)
Threw some poop in American Apparel at the G20 and snorted some volcanic ash. Anyhoo, I'm back and I've got a boeuf. Yup a bouef. Dexter is now 3 months and is cute as anything, really becoming a little hilarious baby. Of course, like any hilarious little babies, he has not- so-hilarious, meltdowns. The other day I was in Shoppers Drug Mart and one such meltdown occured. I knew why, it was time for him to eat but I was forcing him to stay out because I had shit to do. Anyhow, he's SCREAMING like I was poking him with a hot iron rod (which is how I got pregnant in the first place. HII OHHHHH) and of course everyone is staring and giving me those "oh poor you looks" when to be honest, I don't really care if he's screaming. I mean, he's a baby and it happens and there's no need for sympathy or empathy or apathy or anything ending in thy. Needless to say, a woman in front of me turns to me and says , "Oh dear, I really think he's hungry." REALLY? You don't fucking say. Thanks for that profound parenting tip stranger with dry genitals (she was buying Vagisil, for real). So I race out of the Shoppers because I'm afraid my inner thoughts might become outer soon and I don't need another public confrontation with a stranger again(please refer to my real life story about a swearing match I had with an Angela Lansbury look-a-like at Compuserve, posted on Facebook).
I get home and take him to the Breast-aurant and all is good.
The next day I go to Sobey's (because my life is about baby and chores at the moment) and this super weird cashier, who I try to avoid when I need to by groceries, starts cooing and talking to Dex. To give you an idea of how weird Toula is (that's her name) she sort of looks like a cross between an old Angelica Houston and a bearded dragon, in other words, very amphibious. On top of that, she has possibly the worst bangs I've ever seen. I wouldn't be so mean about her looks if she wasn't such a douche baguette. I've seen her get annoyed with bag boys, she got pissed at another cashier for borrowing her pen and she even told me to hurry up when I was packing my groceries. So there's Angelica Lizard talking to my baby. She asks me what his name is, I tell her "Dexter". "Oh" she replies, "my friend has a dog named Dexter. That's a dogs name." "Right, I guess so", I respond........."Toula". Like what the eff kind of a name is Toula anyhow but that's besides the point. Am I wrong to think it's rude for a stranger to tell you that your child has a dogs name? I know there's lots of animals with dogs names like Max, or Bailey or Mr.BoJangles but it's just not polite to tell a stranger that their baby has a dogs name. Maybe that stupid dog has a baby's name, has she ever thought of that? Anyhow, my bouef is with strangers who mess with you and your baby. Either tell me how cute he is or eff off. So that's my bouef for the moment. Other than that, things are good. I love summer and Mat leave. Stay tuned for more amazing blog posts brought to you my an amazing woman.
Wednesday, May 19, 2010
Then we go wild...like a blister on your boob
So Dexter Jean-Claude Macky is now 2 months old and he's the cutest thing ever, but of course I'm going to say that. He's also reading at a 5th grade level.
There was a moment over the past couple of weeks that I almost gave up the breast feeding. I've been one of those cases where it's been a struggle but everything's good now. It's funny but I guess I just assumed breast feeding would come super naturally to myself and the baby. Such is not the case, well, not my case. I had to deal with blisters, not on my feet from cheap flip flops, on my nipples. GROSS! It was the worst. Imagine someone having to suck as hard as they can on your foot blisters...every three hours. They're effing awful and I am so grateful for medicinal nipple creme. There's that crap they sell at Shopper's but I needed industrial strength. I also went back to see the lactation nazi's and was shown a better way to get him on the boob. So, now he's got a full access to the Breast-aurant. Not that it really matters, I mean it's 2010 and we have formula if the booby feeding isn't working so it's not the end of the world. However there's so much pressure to breast feed your baby you can't help but feel a bit guilty giving them formula. They make is seem like you're a terrible mother if you don't always give them the booby juice, it's really not fair. I mean, try your best but honestly, don't make me feel bad if I can't do it! This isn't the stone ages, we have alternatives. The point is, if you can't breast feed don't let those lactation nazi's get to you. Besides, once you breastfeed a few kids your boobs end up looking like two ziplock bags filled with rice pudding so you might as well do what you can to save them.
So having sex after having a baby is a bit different. It's not hotdog down a hallway different, just a bit tender but that goes away. Someone told me that it would be awful because I wouldn't feel a thing but that's totally not true. She must have had a huge vag to start with. I call her The Big V behind her back. Remember those drug stores? The Big V's? Do you think they realized how hilarious that looked? I hope it was on purpose and they were just being super funny.
Anyhow, I'm out with Dexter the other day, he's dressed all in blue and this guy asks me "Boy or Girl?"
I said, "Seriously? Uh, he's a boy. Want to see his massive dong?"
Just joking, I didn't say that, but I was a bit offended. I know I shouldn't be, he's only 2 months old and babies that are that young are kind of androgynous but the all blue should have been a dead giveaway shouldn't it? Am I missing something?
Anyhow, he's only waking up once in the night now and I'm the happiest person on the planet. I never thought I would be so excited about the prospect of 5 hours of sleep in a row. Before the baby I pretty much got 9 hours a night. I needed my beauty sleep. The life of a model requires it. Oh you didn't know? Ya, I had been modeling for a while before I got pregnant. There's a HUGE demand for 5 ft 3 inch 31 year olds now.
That's it for now. Here's hoping I've conquered the nip blisters. Think of me next time you're running and get a blister...then get someone to suck on it.
All the best.
Larissa Ann Primeau
There was a moment over the past couple of weeks that I almost gave up the breast feeding. I've been one of those cases where it's been a struggle but everything's good now. It's funny but I guess I just assumed breast feeding would come super naturally to myself and the baby. Such is not the case, well, not my case. I had to deal with blisters, not on my feet from cheap flip flops, on my nipples. GROSS! It was the worst. Imagine someone having to suck as hard as they can on your foot blisters...every three hours. They're effing awful and I am so grateful for medicinal nipple creme. There's that crap they sell at Shopper's but I needed industrial strength. I also went back to see the lactation nazi's and was shown a better way to get him on the boob. So, now he's got a full access to the Breast-aurant. Not that it really matters, I mean it's 2010 and we have formula if the booby feeding isn't working so it's not the end of the world. However there's so much pressure to breast feed your baby you can't help but feel a bit guilty giving them formula. They make is seem like you're a terrible mother if you don't always give them the booby juice, it's really not fair. I mean, try your best but honestly, don't make me feel bad if I can't do it! This isn't the stone ages, we have alternatives. The point is, if you can't breast feed don't let those lactation nazi's get to you. Besides, once you breastfeed a few kids your boobs end up looking like two ziplock bags filled with rice pudding so you might as well do what you can to save them.
So having sex after having a baby is a bit different. It's not hotdog down a hallway different, just a bit tender but that goes away. Someone told me that it would be awful because I wouldn't feel a thing but that's totally not true. She must have had a huge vag to start with. I call her The Big V behind her back. Remember those drug stores? The Big V's? Do you think they realized how hilarious that looked? I hope it was on purpose and they were just being super funny.
Anyhow, I'm out with Dexter the other day, he's dressed all in blue and this guy asks me "Boy or Girl?"
I said, "Seriously? Uh, he's a boy. Want to see his massive dong?"
Just joking, I didn't say that, but I was a bit offended. I know I shouldn't be, he's only 2 months old and babies that are that young are kind of androgynous but the all blue should have been a dead giveaway shouldn't it? Am I missing something?
Anyhow, he's only waking up once in the night now and I'm the happiest person on the planet. I never thought I would be so excited about the prospect of 5 hours of sleep in a row. Before the baby I pretty much got 9 hours a night. I needed my beauty sleep. The life of a model requires it. Oh you didn't know? Ya, I had been modeling for a while before I got pregnant. There's a HUGE demand for 5 ft 3 inch 31 year olds now.
That's it for now. Here's hoping I've conquered the nip blisters. Think of me next time you're running and get a blister...then get someone to suck on it.
All the best.
Larissa Ann Primeau
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