I think the most boring way to spend your time would be watching church on T.V. Church is so epically boring in real life, sitting and watching it on television would be my Guantanamo.
I tend to have a lot of conversations with cashiers. I don't mind, I'm a pretty chatty person and if someone wants to strike up a quick conversation, I'm up for it. It's amazing what people will tell you in a 3 1/2 minute conversation. Here are some of my most memorable ones:
Me: "Hey! You're pregnant! Congratulations."
Cashier: "I'm not pregnant"
Cashier: "My husband isn't a cat person but he likes mine if you know what I mean."
Me: "...............oh god."
Me: "So nice out isn't it."
Cashier: "I'm losing my eye sight."
Me: "ha ha ha ha ha....oh wait."
Anyhow, now that I have Dexter with me, I have even more conversations, only this time it's usually only about the baby.
A couple of weeks ago I had walked to the Metro with Dexter. It was pretty cold out so he was in his snowsuit. As I went through the cash, the cashier peered over and saw Dexter. She remarked on how cute he was. I responded, "I think you mean hot, not cute."
I didn't really say that.
Anyhow, she looks at him and says, "Oh ,it's so cold out. Is he ok?"
"What?" I respond, "Ok how?"
"Well, is he warm enough?"
I chuckle, thinking she's joking because he's wearing a GIANT snowsuit.
"I think he's fine." I reply
"Do you have something to block the wind from him?" she asks
"Yes" I respond sternly, "the Gortex snowsuit that he's wearing that is covering all 2 ft 5" of him."
It was like a baby snowsuit burka for eff sake. You could see his eyes, if you really looked hard, but other than that this baby was in full winter combat mode. He looked like a mix between Maggie Simpson and the kid from The Christmas Story who couldn't get up because he was in such an intense snow suit.
She looks at me and gives me this look that says, "you're freezing your sons tiny balls off and you should be ashamed."
Well, that's how I interpreted the look.
I was about 2 seconds away from lambasting this woman with a barrage of insults attacking anything I could but I really wanted my Airmiles so I kept my mouth shut. The woman behind me said , "He's fine, he's a good little Canadian boy." Thank god she said something because all I could think of was the f-word.
In other news, I took Dex to his first day of daycare the other day. There were a lot of tears, but Will's doing much better now. More on that later. I've gone out and gotten myself ANOTHER hangover so I have to go and eat dangerous amounts of bacon. Ta for now.
Showing posts with label motherhood. Show all posts
Showing posts with label motherhood. Show all posts
Sunday, April 3, 2011
Sunday, March 13, 2011
Seemed Like A Good Idea
Being hungover, with a 1 year old, might be the worst punishment for bad behavior....of all time. In fact, screw Guantanamo, get all the criminals drunk on champagne, then force them to care for a litter of cranky-ass toddlers. I don't think you'll see many repeat offenders.
Thankfully Will didn't come out Saturday night. It was just me and 6 other girls, drinking like we were 23 again and looking for tail like we're 32. It was a fun night at this restaurant at Yonge and St.Clair but let me tell you something, champagne, red wine, desert wine and fois gras do not make for a pleasant-following-morning. And fuck-you very much for the time change too, by the way. That really helps.
Here's the thing. Just because you have a baby asleep at home doesn't mean that you don't like to occasionally tie one on. Maybe your occasionally is once a month,like your period, or maybe it's once a week, like your masturbation routine, or maybe it's once a day, like a teenage boys masturbation schedule. Whatever your "tie-one-on" scenario may be, the hangover is extra painful when you're awoken at 7am by the needs of another human being. It's not like when you were without kids and you thought, "shit, I should really stop watching Miss.Congeniality for the millionth time on showcase Diva. I should really do my laundry." But your laundry isn't going to suffer if it doesn't get done. Your child, on the other hand, requires a lot more maintenance. You have no choice but to get your disgusting hung over ass off of the couch, put the jacket on the baby, strap him into the car, and get yourself to Swiss Chalet or some other greasy joint to cure your ails.
Speaking of which, don't ever get the chicken sandwich at Swiss Chalet. It was like swallowing luke warm chicken flavored sand. Disgusting.
If anything happens to your baby, while you're in this state, the guilt is doubly as bad. I'm not naming names, but a certain first husband of mine (we'll call him Sharon) was in the hungover state and the baby did a major bonker on his head. He was screaming and crying and Dexter wasn't in very good shape either. I mean, Dex does a thousand head bonks a week, the pains of learning to walk, but the fact that he did a mega one on Sharon's watch, while hungover, just makes you feel like a real skid. God, what happens when you have two kids? Maybe by then I'll have grown up enough to have some will power.
Maybe.
Thankfully Will didn't come out Saturday night. It was just me and 6 other girls, drinking like we were 23 again and looking for tail like we're 32. It was a fun night at this restaurant at Yonge and St.Clair but let me tell you something, champagne, red wine, desert wine and fois gras do not make for a pleasant-following-morning. And fuck-you very much for the time change too, by the way. That really helps.
Here's the thing. Just because you have a baby asleep at home doesn't mean that you don't like to occasionally tie one on. Maybe your occasionally is once a month,like your period, or maybe it's once a week, like your masturbation routine, or maybe it's once a day, like a teenage boys masturbation schedule. Whatever your "tie-one-on" scenario may be, the hangover is extra painful when you're awoken at 7am by the needs of another human being. It's not like when you were without kids and you thought, "shit, I should really stop watching Miss.Congeniality for the millionth time on showcase Diva. I should really do my laundry." But your laundry isn't going to suffer if it doesn't get done. Your child, on the other hand, requires a lot more maintenance. You have no choice but to get your disgusting hung over ass off of the couch, put the jacket on the baby, strap him into the car, and get yourself to Swiss Chalet or some other greasy joint to cure your ails.
Speaking of which, don't ever get the chicken sandwich at Swiss Chalet. It was like swallowing luke warm chicken flavored sand. Disgusting.
If anything happens to your baby, while you're in this state, the guilt is doubly as bad. I'm not naming names, but a certain first husband of mine (we'll call him Sharon) was in the hungover state and the baby did a major bonker on his head. He was screaming and crying and Dexter wasn't in very good shape either. I mean, Dex does a thousand head bonks a week, the pains of learning to walk, but the fact that he did a mega one on Sharon's watch, while hungover, just makes you feel like a real skid. God, what happens when you have two kids? Maybe by then I'll have grown up enough to have some will power.
Maybe.
Friday, February 4, 2011
It's in a name
I've discovered that even though I live in the city, I am far from urban. How did I come to this conclusion? I looked at a flyer today and went to No Frills to buy the ribs that were on sale. I am officially a Mom. I'm only a heartbeat away from cutting coupons. I don't know if I'm ready to accept this harsh reality. Anyhow, let me tell you, No Frills lives up to its name; especially this one. See, not only was I at No Frills, I was at a No Frills in Scarborough.This particular No Frills really adheres to the whole "No Frill" philosophy when they're hiring staff. It's like it was a prerequisite for employment to no longer have even one of your original teeth. I felt like I had walked into a needle exchange program. Where do they find these women? Normally I enjoy grocery shopping. It's one of the few domestic chores that I genuinely enjoy. I usually go to Loblaws or Sobeys where the lighting isn't too harsh, the music plays gently over the speakers and the aisles are wide and inviting.The cashiers are pleasant or at least without a criminal record. I sound like I'm being a bit hard on this No Frills, but you should seriously go have a look at these cashiers. It's where cashiers go to die, I'm sure of it. The beast that was checking me out looked to be around 65-ish. She smiles at the baby and makes baby noises at him. I stand there awkwardly. I give my obligatory remark, "Oh, do you have children?"
"Yes", she answers, "but they're all grown up." I say, "Oh that's nice."
She responds, "One is 5 and the other is 7." Whaaaaa? Unless she had some incredible fertility treatments (which something tells me she hasn't) that means that you're probably only in your 40's. Smoke another cigarette lady, it's really working for you.
In other news, Dexter is 10 months old and beyond cute. Kissing and crawling and being hilarious. It's more work now, I mean you really have to keep an eye on him instead of an eye on him and an eye on the bottle of wine, which is what I've been doing up to this point. I like to make sure that the wine is always behaving itself. Anyhow, he puts EVERYTHING in his mouth so I've had to pick up all of the bread crumbs that I leave for myself so that I don't get lost.When we were in the Domincan Republic, Dex was crawling around the floor. I see him put something in his mouth and say, "Will, he's got something in his mouth, can you please take it out?" Will puts his hand in and pulls out..... a beetle. Gross! He put a freaking beetle in his mouth! I started to freak thinking he could have some weird Domincan beetle poisoning but that wasn't the case.
A couple of weeks ago I was in The Home Depot...cruisin' for dudes. This guy who works there came up and started cooing at the baby. He says to me, "You know, you have to be careful, babies put everything in their mouth." Thanks Dr.Spock.
"I have a 2 year old, and when he was this age, he picked up a razor blade and put it in his mouth. I had to very slowly extract it, using all of my concentration."
Holy shit! First things first, Dale from Home Depot, why the hell do you have razor blades lying around your floor? Did you just happen to lose one while you were shaving, running through the living room? Were you making a pinata and had butter fingers that day? If you have razor blades lying around the floor willy nilly, yes, willy nilly, you have bigger problems than I can deal with right now....in aisle 3 at Home Depot. Honestly, what a weird story to share with a complete stranger. Anyhow, my point is, your baby may put beetles, cat food or toilet paper in their mouth but don't ever feel bad. Dale's kids are one step away from getting decapitated by a circular saw.
"Yes", she answers, "but they're all grown up." I say, "Oh that's nice."
She responds, "One is 5 and the other is 7." Whaaaaa? Unless she had some incredible fertility treatments (which something tells me she hasn't) that means that you're probably only in your 40's. Smoke another cigarette lady, it's really working for you.
In other news, Dexter is 10 months old and beyond cute. Kissing and crawling and being hilarious. It's more work now, I mean you really have to keep an eye on him instead of an eye on him and an eye on the bottle of wine, which is what I've been doing up to this point. I like to make sure that the wine is always behaving itself. Anyhow, he puts EVERYTHING in his mouth so I've had to pick up all of the bread crumbs that I leave for myself so that I don't get lost.When we were in the Domincan Republic, Dex was crawling around the floor. I see him put something in his mouth and say, "Will, he's got something in his mouth, can you please take it out?" Will puts his hand in and pulls out..... a beetle. Gross! He put a freaking beetle in his mouth! I started to freak thinking he could have some weird Domincan beetle poisoning but that wasn't the case.
A couple of weeks ago I was in The Home Depot...cruisin' for dudes. This guy who works there came up and started cooing at the baby. He says to me, "You know, you have to be careful, babies put everything in their mouth." Thanks Dr.Spock.
"I have a 2 year old, and when he was this age, he picked up a razor blade and put it in his mouth. I had to very slowly extract it, using all of my concentration."
Holy shit! First things first, Dale from Home Depot, why the hell do you have razor blades lying around your floor? Did you just happen to lose one while you were shaving, running through the living room? Were you making a pinata and had butter fingers that day? If you have razor blades lying around the floor willy nilly, yes, willy nilly, you have bigger problems than I can deal with right now....in aisle 3 at Home Depot. Honestly, what a weird story to share with a complete stranger. Anyhow, my point is, your baby may put beetles, cat food or toilet paper in their mouth but don't ever feel bad. Dale's kids are one step away from getting decapitated by a circular saw.
Monday, October 18, 2010
Psychically Delicious
I was thinking; you can me overwhelmed and underwhelmed so if you're just content, are you simply whelmed? Like if I'm just hanging out and someone asks me,"Hey Larissa Primeau, what's up?" Can I answer, "Not much just whelming out." I think the laws of the English language would dictate that yes, I could. Speaking of dick-tate, how annoying is Jennifer Valentine? The baby sleeps through the night but wakes up at 5:30-6:30 now. I let him play while I watch BT. She's kind of half Kimmy Gibler half Six from Blossom: the annoying neighbor that you have to be nice too.
Speaking of annoying, I had yet another moment of WTF, with the baby , at the grocery store. He is 7 months and currently the cutest thing I've ever ever ever seen. We're at Loblaws buying lots of Presidents Choice (I wonder if Galen Weston feels obligated to only buy PC brand but sometimes just hates his Dad and goes for Heinz). I'm in the produce aisles and a woman yells over from the adjacent aisle, "WHAT A CUTE BABY! LET ME SEE HIM." She comes running over and I get a chance to assess who I'm about to interact with. She is definitely eccentric. Rings on every finger, fantasy themed sweatshirt and those kind of glasses that are so thick it looks like her eyes are holograms. She also looks (and smells) like she's been into a bag of Smartfood. Gross. She starts rubbing the baby's head, which I immediately think is a bit much, but just figure she's a friendly lady who loves babies. She's talking but I don't really know about what. Then she tells me, "You know, I'm gifted." At first I thought she meant academically and I started to cough out "Bullshit" but before I could she said, "You know....psycically." Ohhhhhh, of course, thaaaat kind of gifted. Well, even responding this with a simple "oh ya" was apparently an invitation for her to start talking about herself for (i'm not exagerrating) 25 minutes. She started by telling me she's found over 8000 kids in Phoenix, Arizona. Guess you shouldn't let your kids out of your site in Phoenix. What an outrageous lie but I continue to let her talk. She was going on and on and on about Julian Fantino(previously Toronto's Chief of Police) and how he never listens to her. I of course say loudly, "That son of a bitch!" "I know!!!" she answers enthusiastically, obviously missing my sarcasm. It's eventually getting to be a bit of a bore being so polite so just as I'm ready to say, "Have a nice day" she puts her hands on Dexter's head and says, "Oh, he is just the joy of you and your husbands life." Thanks psychic. "He's going to be a lawyer or an advocate for something." That was good to hear but she was in fact, nuts, so I didn't take what she said too much to heart. If Dexter goes to law school and fights for the little man, I have some apologizing to do but in the meantime, I said thanks, she said "God Bless" I told her "I didn't sneeze" and off we went. I spent the rest of my time making sure we didn't get in the same aisle again.
I just took Dex on a plane for the first time last week, that blogs to come. In the meantime, I have to get the baby brushed up and ready for law school. Basically I'm just going to one day tell him to tell the law school that in 2010, a psychic who smelled like Smartfood, predicted it was his destiny, so no LSATS required.
Speaking of annoying, I had yet another moment of WTF, with the baby , at the grocery store. He is 7 months and currently the cutest thing I've ever ever ever seen. We're at Loblaws buying lots of Presidents Choice (I wonder if Galen Weston feels obligated to only buy PC brand but sometimes just hates his Dad and goes for Heinz). I'm in the produce aisles and a woman yells over from the adjacent aisle, "WHAT A CUTE BABY! LET ME SEE HIM." She comes running over and I get a chance to assess who I'm about to interact with. She is definitely eccentric. Rings on every finger, fantasy themed sweatshirt and those kind of glasses that are so thick it looks like her eyes are holograms. She also looks (and smells) like she's been into a bag of Smartfood. Gross. She starts rubbing the baby's head, which I immediately think is a bit much, but just figure she's a friendly lady who loves babies. She's talking but I don't really know about what. Then she tells me, "You know, I'm gifted." At first I thought she meant academically and I started to cough out "Bullshit" but before I could she said, "You know....psycically." Ohhhhhh, of course, thaaaat kind of gifted. Well, even responding this with a simple "oh ya" was apparently an invitation for her to start talking about herself for (i'm not exagerrating) 25 minutes. She started by telling me she's found over 8000 kids in Phoenix, Arizona. Guess you shouldn't let your kids out of your site in Phoenix. What an outrageous lie but I continue to let her talk. She was going on and on and on about Julian Fantino(previously Toronto's Chief of Police) and how he never listens to her. I of course say loudly, "That son of a bitch!" "I know!!!" she answers enthusiastically, obviously missing my sarcasm. It's eventually getting to be a bit of a bore being so polite so just as I'm ready to say, "Have a nice day" she puts her hands on Dexter's head and says, "Oh, he is just the joy of you and your husbands life." Thanks psychic. "He's going to be a lawyer or an advocate for something." That was good to hear but she was in fact, nuts, so I didn't take what she said too much to heart. If Dexter goes to law school and fights for the little man, I have some apologizing to do but in the meantime, I said thanks, she said "God Bless" I told her "I didn't sneeze" and off we went. I spent the rest of my time making sure we didn't get in the same aisle again.
I just took Dex on a plane for the first time last week, that blogs to come. In the meantime, I have to get the baby brushed up and ready for law school. Basically I'm just going to one day tell him to tell the law school that in 2010, a psychic who smelled like Smartfood, predicted it was his destiny, so no LSATS required.
Wednesday, September 29, 2010
Upper cut Upper cut
So I shaved my legs. Annoying. I guess it's better than shaving my face every day. I mean I only have to do that every now and then.
Dexter is 6 months and we're right in the midst of letting him "cry it out" at night. Up until this point, he's been getting up once a night and one of us has had to go in and just soothe him back to sleep. Anyhow, that was enough of that so we are currently on day two of letting him cry it out at night. I don't know who or what this whole Ferberizer thing is, I may have smoked weed out of one in University, all I know is that we've made the decision and we're sticking with it. The first night he cried for about an hour and 15 minutes, last night 30 minutes. I thought I would DIE when we had to do this but the wine and ear plugs are doing their job and I haven't really laid in bed bawling, like I thought I would.I wanted some valium too but apparantly you're not supposed to give that to babies.Obviously that's a joke but while we're on the topic I have an open request to science. Science, can you please figure out something harmless to give babies to make them sleep? Stop working on cloning sheep and get your shit together. Stupid science.
Here's the thing, maybe it's not that "nice" to let your baby cry in the middle of the night, but you know what else isn't nice? Having Super Nanny come to your home and make you some busted ass schedule while she tells you how incompetent you are. This baby is going to sleep for 12 hours a night, in his own bed, if it's the last thing I do.
As a new Mom, you have to quickly adapt to a brand new lifestyle. Before Dex, I had 31 years of just pretty much doing what I wanted and being amazing. Yes, it's super cool hanging out with Dex and seeing him grow, but I would be lying if I didn't say that there are times when I get a bit squirrly. It's not even that I need people to hang out with or anything, I just need to do something that has nothing to do with baby and everything to do with me. I don't think there's anything wrong with being a bit selfish. As a matter of fact, I think it's a bit good for kids, especially when you only have one. I've never been a mathematician but I have an equation: Too Much Attention = Spoiled Kid.
So I went to the gym and did this mixed martial arts class and left Dexter in the gym daycare a.k.a germ warfare. There were about 4 babies and 6 toddlers snotting around and licking everything. It was awesome. This is how you build an air tight immune system, Dexter is going to be like the bionic baby.So in this class you do a lot of kicking and punching. I was really into it and punching the shit out of an imaginary opponent. Jab , jab, jab, kick kick kick!
"HEY LADIES! CAN YOU FEEL THE BURN IN YOUR BUTT!?!?!"
My inside voice: " I can feel the jiggle in it."
"DO YOU WANT THIS?"
My inside voice: "I want plastic surgery instead"
"C'MON! I WANNA SEE YOU SWEAT!"
My inside voice: "I wanna see you die"
So there I am jumping and sweating and having a great time when I go and throw a solid right upper cut....right into my chin. I punched myself in the chin...hard. The craziest part about this whole fiasco? It's not the first time I've done it! I took a similar class a few years ago and punched myself so hard in the chin I thought I had bit my tongue off. The instructor even stopped the class. Anyhow, this self-inflicted punch wasn't so bad as the first time I did it. Hopefully next time I take this class I won't spaz out and nail myself again. I'm happy to take a class that teaches me how to kick some ass because I almost had to throw down at the Winners the other day. That's for the next blog.
Dexter is 6 months and we're right in the midst of letting him "cry it out" at night. Up until this point, he's been getting up once a night and one of us has had to go in and just soothe him back to sleep. Anyhow, that was enough of that so we are currently on day two of letting him cry it out at night. I don't know who or what this whole Ferberizer thing is, I may have smoked weed out of one in University, all I know is that we've made the decision and we're sticking with it. The first night he cried for about an hour and 15 minutes, last night 30 minutes. I thought I would DIE when we had to do this but the wine and ear plugs are doing their job and I haven't really laid in bed bawling, like I thought I would.I wanted some valium too but apparantly you're not supposed to give that to babies.Obviously that's a joke but while we're on the topic I have an open request to science. Science, can you please figure out something harmless to give babies to make them sleep? Stop working on cloning sheep and get your shit together. Stupid science.
Here's the thing, maybe it's not that "nice" to let your baby cry in the middle of the night, but you know what else isn't nice? Having Super Nanny come to your home and make you some busted ass schedule while she tells you how incompetent you are. This baby is going to sleep for 12 hours a night, in his own bed, if it's the last thing I do.
As a new Mom, you have to quickly adapt to a brand new lifestyle. Before Dex, I had 31 years of just pretty much doing what I wanted and being amazing. Yes, it's super cool hanging out with Dex and seeing him grow, but I would be lying if I didn't say that there are times when I get a bit squirrly. It's not even that I need people to hang out with or anything, I just need to do something that has nothing to do with baby and everything to do with me. I don't think there's anything wrong with being a bit selfish. As a matter of fact, I think it's a bit good for kids, especially when you only have one. I've never been a mathematician but I have an equation: Too Much Attention = Spoiled Kid.
So I went to the gym and did this mixed martial arts class and left Dexter in the gym daycare a.k.a germ warfare. There were about 4 babies and 6 toddlers snotting around and licking everything. It was awesome. This is how you build an air tight immune system, Dexter is going to be like the bionic baby.So in this class you do a lot of kicking and punching. I was really into it and punching the shit out of an imaginary opponent. Jab , jab, jab, kick kick kick!
"HEY LADIES! CAN YOU FEEL THE BURN IN YOUR BUTT!?!?!"
My inside voice: " I can feel the jiggle in it."
"DO YOU WANT THIS?"
My inside voice: "I want plastic surgery instead"
"C'MON! I WANNA SEE YOU SWEAT!"
My inside voice: "I wanna see you die"
So there I am jumping and sweating and having a great time when I go and throw a solid right upper cut....right into my chin. I punched myself in the chin...hard. The craziest part about this whole fiasco? It's not the first time I've done it! I took a similar class a few years ago and punched myself so hard in the chin I thought I had bit my tongue off. The instructor even stopped the class. Anyhow, this self-inflicted punch wasn't so bad as the first time I did it. Hopefully next time I take this class I won't spaz out and nail myself again. I'm happy to take a class that teaches me how to kick some ass because I almost had to throw down at the Winners the other day. That's for the next blog.
Monday, August 9, 2010
Festival and Freaks
So last time we left off with a story from Montreal from 2 weeks ago. The rest of the weekend was awesome. I have to admit, bringing Dexter (as a 4 month old) to a music festival in another province, had me a bit anxious but once we got to the venue and got all sorted out, all of my nerves went away. The music was amazing. Two days of incredible weather, company and live music was pretty much the highlight of the summer. Dexter was so cute in his big blue headphones to protect his little ears, he was like a goddamn celebrity. When Will put him in the baby bjorn to go and see Major Lazer with the guys, there were more pictures taken of Dex than of Lindsey Lohan's crotch. Hilariously, Dex fell asleep during Major Lazer. He was waaay more into Snoop Dog, probably because he's so West Coast. Anyhow, he was really good and didn't have any meltdown's until the last 2 hours of the car ride home but I was having a meltdown too. I may have spent too much time in the Holiday Inn hottub because it felt like my skin was crawling. Anyhoo, no topical diseases to speak of (this time) and the weekend was awesome. The best part about it was realizing that taking your baby or kid out of the comfort zone is always going to be ok. Even when you think it's a bit over the top, it'll always work out in the end and if you're still anxious when it's happening....drink more.
Ok, on to last week. To let you know, I do some voice work and I was lucky enough to get sent on a couple of auditions last week. Up until this point, Will had always just come with me and sat in the car with Dex because the auditions only take 15 minutes or so. Anyhow, I decided just to take him in with me and figured I would get the receptionist or someone else who was auditioning to hold him while I went in. In hindsight I probably shouldn't really leave my baby with strangers but I try to assume the best rather than the worst. So there's about 3 other women in there waiting to audition and they all go bananas over Dex because he's a baby and women are genetically bread to instantly assume their best baby voice when a baby enters the picture. Can we talk about the baby voice for a minute? We all do it and none of us realizes just how ridiculous we sound while using our baby voice because we're just caught up in the cuteness of the baby and the moment. I am going to record the way I speak to Dex just to listen to what a moron I sound like afterwards. Imagine going into a interview and introducing yourself in the voice you use to talk to you baby or niece or nephew or whatever? The same could be said for your dog voice. We just think that babies and animals need to be spoken to like someones got your balls in a vice; 3 octaves higher with a subtle hint of crazy. Anyhow, back to the audition. This one actress is really the loud one out of the group and is asking me all sorts of questions about the baby and making faces and using her baby voice which sort of sounded a bit like Liza Minelli after some Vicoden and gin. Needless to say, Dex wasn't responding to her very well. She looks up at me and says, "He's never been here before." I was a bit caught of guard and stammered, "Uhhh, no he's not. I've never brought him to an audtion before. He's definitely never been here." "No" she responds "He's never been here before." Ok. Again I say, "Yup, this is his first time at a voice audition." She shakes her head and says, "What I'm saying is he's a new soul." Ohhhhhh riggght. We were talking about reincarnation! Duhhh, how silly of me not to have first gone right to reincarnation.What a rookie conversation mistake! She's nodding her head at me like she's just figured out how to cap the oil well and I just say, "Right well ...sure." There are very few times where I'm at a loss for words but Shirley McLean here managed to stump me. Here's the thing, I think there's something to be said for reincarnation but when a wide eyed voice actress thinks she can read into your babies past lives, it's a bit funny. I didn't leave Dex with her while I auditioned.
Ok, on to last week. To let you know, I do some voice work and I was lucky enough to get sent on a couple of auditions last week. Up until this point, Will had always just come with me and sat in the car with Dex because the auditions only take 15 minutes or so. Anyhow, I decided just to take him in with me and figured I would get the receptionist or someone else who was auditioning to hold him while I went in. In hindsight I probably shouldn't really leave my baby with strangers but I try to assume the best rather than the worst. So there's about 3 other women in there waiting to audition and they all go bananas over Dex because he's a baby and women are genetically bread to instantly assume their best baby voice when a baby enters the picture. Can we talk about the baby voice for a minute? We all do it and none of us realizes just how ridiculous we sound while using our baby voice because we're just caught up in the cuteness of the baby and the moment. I am going to record the way I speak to Dex just to listen to what a moron I sound like afterwards. Imagine going into a interview and introducing yourself in the voice you use to talk to you baby or niece or nephew or whatever? The same could be said for your dog voice. We just think that babies and animals need to be spoken to like someones got your balls in a vice; 3 octaves higher with a subtle hint of crazy. Anyhow, back to the audition. This one actress is really the loud one out of the group and is asking me all sorts of questions about the baby and making faces and using her baby voice which sort of sounded a bit like Liza Minelli after some Vicoden and gin. Needless to say, Dex wasn't responding to her very well. She looks up at me and says, "He's never been here before." I was a bit caught of guard and stammered, "Uhhh, no he's not. I've never brought him to an audtion before. He's definitely never been here." "No" she responds "He's never been here before." Ok. Again I say, "Yup, this is his first time at a voice audition." She shakes her head and says, "What I'm saying is he's a new soul." Ohhhhhh riggght. We were talking about reincarnation! Duhhh, how silly of me not to have first gone right to reincarnation.What a rookie conversation mistake! She's nodding her head at me like she's just figured out how to cap the oil well and I just say, "Right well ...sure." There are very few times where I'm at a loss for words but Shirley McLean here managed to stump me. Here's the thing, I think there's something to be said for reincarnation but when a wide eyed voice actress thinks she can read into your babies past lives, it's a bit funny. I didn't leave Dex with her while I auditioned.
Monday, July 5, 2010
Rainbow baby
First of all, I forgot to get Dex his 2 month shots. WOOPS! I got them the other week but I must have forgotten to check the handbook that came out of me right after the placenta. Ummm, shouldn't my busted ass doctor be informing me of these things? Here's the thing, my doctor is ok. She's super young, bright and has passable hygiene(This is important to me because one time in England I honestly once went to a doctor who looked homeless) What I'm saying is, she's good on paper but as a family doctor she's cold, kind of weird and I think slightly judgemental. I made the mistake of telling her that Dex sleeps on his stomach and she was super pissed at me. I responded with , "It's ok, don't worry about it, it's how he sleeps so that's all there is to it." She was carrying on about "Studies show that..." blah blah blah but the problem is, she has yet to have any children so she's all text book and no experience. Of course the same could be said for anything, I mean you don't need to have herpes to know how to treat it. Everyone knows you're supposed to put yogurt on them. Anyhow, when I was suffering from the nip blisters I went to another doctor in the office and she was THE BEST! So warm and kind and really easy to talk to. She's also a mother and had tons of real life advice for me. So, how do you dump your doctor for another when they're in the same practice? Maybe I"ll use that whole, "It's not you, it's me" thingy. I"ll tell her I'm having impure thoughts about her and don't think it's ethical that she gives me paps. I dunno, it's a problem.
Needless to say, I CAN'T forget his 4 month shots so someone remind me when it's the 20th of July ok?
Speaking of summer, Will and I brought Dex to Gay Pride here in Toronto. We made him this super cute onesie that says: "I Love My Gay Uncles" and brought him into his first ever beer tent. They grow up so fast! Anyhow, at first I was a bit apprehensive thinking, "should I really be bringing my 3 1/2 month old baby to a beer tent at Pride?" but then that thought passed as I looked around and saw so many people having such a good time, loving one another no matter gender, race or religion. If there's ever a beer tent to bring your baby to, the one's at Pride are it. Anyhow, Dex drools like a camel these days so instead of putting a demeaning bib around his neck, we've been putting little kerchiefs on him. Bibs are lame and for total babies. I get Dex and the stroller into the tent and by brother-in-law Brad says, "Nice kerchief Lar, you know what that means don't you?" Suprisingly, I didn't. He then informs me that in the gay culture, some may look at a red kercheif around the neck as a symbol. A symbol of what, you may ask? Get ready for it....here is comes....FISTING! Yup, we looked it up on Brads Blackberry and apparantly a red kerchief to the right means you're a fister and one to the left means you're the fistee. Dex's was to the right (thank God!). Now I don't know many gay men that subscribe to this theory but apparantly it's a thing. So I've got a fister bib on my baby at a beer tent at Pride. No harm done though, I mean you should have seen the numbers he got! Total stud. So we hung out for about an hour and then took off. The music was so loud I was actually afraid that Dex's hearing would be damaged and I would have to tell the hearing specialist it was because we were too close to the drag queen singing Gloria Gayner's "I Will Survive". Speaking of hearing, I just ordered Dexter these little baby headphone earmuffs because we're going to Osheaga in a couple of weeks. That's this music festival in Montreal. Now I"m not telling you this because I'm some super cool hipster that brings her babies to music festivals, quite frankly this is a bit of a selfish move because Will and I really want to go to this festival and we have a baby so he's coming along.Total buzz kill. HA! Just joking obviously. We'll see how it goes, it's definitly going to be a different experience from most music festivals I've been to in the past and not exactly relaxing but what the hell. Might as well give it a shot. I'll just have to do my best to try and not flash Snoop Dogg when he's on stage. Anyhow these mofo headphones better get here on time otherwise I'll be stressed out. Until next time.
Larissa Primeau
M.O.Y (mother of the year)
Needless to say, I CAN'T forget his 4 month shots so someone remind me when it's the 20th of July ok?
Speaking of summer, Will and I brought Dex to Gay Pride here in Toronto. We made him this super cute onesie that says: "I Love My Gay Uncles" and brought him into his first ever beer tent. They grow up so fast! Anyhow, at first I was a bit apprehensive thinking, "should I really be bringing my 3 1/2 month old baby to a beer tent at Pride?" but then that thought passed as I looked around and saw so many people having such a good time, loving one another no matter gender, race or religion. If there's ever a beer tent to bring your baby to, the one's at Pride are it. Anyhow, Dex drools like a camel these days so instead of putting a demeaning bib around his neck, we've been putting little kerchiefs on him. Bibs are lame and for total babies. I get Dex and the stroller into the tent and by brother-in-law Brad says, "Nice kerchief Lar, you know what that means don't you?" Suprisingly, I didn't. He then informs me that in the gay culture, some may look at a red kercheif around the neck as a symbol. A symbol of what, you may ask? Get ready for it....here is comes....FISTING! Yup, we looked it up on Brads Blackberry and apparantly a red kerchief to the right means you're a fister and one to the left means you're the fistee. Dex's was to the right (thank God!). Now I don't know many gay men that subscribe to this theory but apparantly it's a thing. So I've got a fister bib on my baby at a beer tent at Pride. No harm done though, I mean you should have seen the numbers he got! Total stud. So we hung out for about an hour and then took off. The music was so loud I was actually afraid that Dex's hearing would be damaged and I would have to tell the hearing specialist it was because we were too close to the drag queen singing Gloria Gayner's "I Will Survive". Speaking of hearing, I just ordered Dexter these little baby headphone earmuffs because we're going to Osheaga in a couple of weeks. That's this music festival in Montreal. Now I"m not telling you this because I'm some super cool hipster that brings her babies to music festivals, quite frankly this is a bit of a selfish move because Will and I really want to go to this festival and we have a baby so he's coming along.Total buzz kill. HA! Just joking obviously. We'll see how it goes, it's definitly going to be a different experience from most music festivals I've been to in the past and not exactly relaxing but what the hell. Might as well give it a shot. I'll just have to do my best to try and not flash Snoop Dogg when he's on stage. Anyhow these mofo headphones better get here on time otherwise I'll be stressed out. Until next time.
Larissa Primeau
M.O.Y (mother of the year)
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.
Saturday, June 5, 2010
Flashdance
I have a mini-hangover. I probably shouldn't, since I"m breastfeeding but I honestly didn't think a pint and a half was going to get me drunk! I mean, I have french-canadian heritage and it's not like I'm morman, I've been drinking for a while. Anyhow, I've let my people down because I managed to get partially wasted last night at a patio, on a pint and a half. I met Will after work with the baby and we brought him to his first patio. Not Will....the baby, I can't figure out if that's totally irresponsible and white trash or avant-guarde and European. I don't really care, Momma just needed to get her drink on.
Needless to say, I'm up at the anus of dawn (that comes before the crack) to parent Dexter and my head is banging. Welcome back old friend hangover. It's been a long time buddy.
So anyhow, I've left Dexter in the capable hands of the cats, so who says drinking and parenting don't mix?
It's actually amazing how the minute you have a kid, something that wouldn't have really phased you that much prior to parenthood, now really gets under your skin. Let me tell you a story.
Last week I went to Tim Hortons at Main and Danforth (at 9am), here in the beautiful burrow of East York, Toronto. Now our neighborhood isn't the complete ghetto, but there are some real dirtbags circling around: like a bunch of seaguls over roadkill. Normally I take no notice of said dirtbags but something compelled me to glance to my left, as I pushed the buggy out of Tim Horton's and down the road. What did I see? One of East York's finest, taking a pee, in a planter put there by the city to house beautiful flower arrangements. Ok, if I saw this particular rastifarian at 2am peeing in the planter, I probably wouldn't have thought much of it, but it was 9am and I had to look at his GIANT clanger while he relieved himself. Gross. It just seemed even worse because I was pushing a baby. Well my immediate reaction was to just yell at him. I spat out, "Awww, you're disgusting!" I probably shouldn't have done that because then he flashed me a toothless grin and started to shake it at me! As if. I immediately decided that I was not going to raise my beautiful baby around such grossness and went home and went on MLS to look for a different house. I called WIll and told him we were moving. He laughed and told me to calm down. The funny thing is, this is the second time in about 14 months that a man has shown me his schlonger. A guy came out of the alleyway behind the subway station last year and had his dink out of his pants and shook it at me. Honestly, I never got so much dick in my life until I moved to East York. Needless to say I've since calmed down and decided not to move but if I see one more penis (that I haven't paid to see) we're outta here.
I have to go and eat bacon now and drink diet coke. It's the only cure.
Needless to say, I'm up at the anus of dawn (that comes before the crack) to parent Dexter and my head is banging. Welcome back old friend hangover. It's been a long time buddy.
So anyhow, I've left Dexter in the capable hands of the cats, so who says drinking and parenting don't mix?
It's actually amazing how the minute you have a kid, something that wouldn't have really phased you that much prior to parenthood, now really gets under your skin. Let me tell you a story.
Last week I went to Tim Hortons at Main and Danforth (at 9am), here in the beautiful burrow of East York, Toronto. Now our neighborhood isn't the complete ghetto, but there are some real dirtbags circling around: like a bunch of seaguls over roadkill. Normally I take no notice of said dirtbags but something compelled me to glance to my left, as I pushed the buggy out of Tim Horton's and down the road. What did I see? One of East York's finest, taking a pee, in a planter put there by the city to house beautiful flower arrangements. Ok, if I saw this particular rastifarian at 2am peeing in the planter, I probably wouldn't have thought much of it, but it was 9am and I had to look at his GIANT clanger while he relieved himself. Gross. It just seemed even worse because I was pushing a baby. Well my immediate reaction was to just yell at him. I spat out, "Awww, you're disgusting!" I probably shouldn't have done that because then he flashed me a toothless grin and started to shake it at me! As if. I immediately decided that I was not going to raise my beautiful baby around such grossness and went home and went on MLS to look for a different house. I called WIll and told him we were moving. He laughed and told me to calm down. The funny thing is, this is the second time in about 14 months that a man has shown me his schlonger. A guy came out of the alleyway behind the subway station last year and had his dink out of his pants and shook it at me. Honestly, I never got so much dick in my life until I moved to East York. Needless to say I've since calmed down and decided not to move but if I see one more penis (that I haven't paid to see) we're outta here.
I have to go and eat bacon now and drink diet coke. It's the only cure.
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
Friday, April 30, 2010
Lactation Nazi's
It's been a while since I've written one of these; turns out having a newborn is a lot of work. Who knew? Good thing I waited until I was 31 to have a baby, honestly I don't know how teenagers do it. By "It" I mean sex. I really want to know how teenagers are doing it these days. Has it changed? Are they better at it because of the Internet?
Anyhow, I last left off with a story about the actual birth of Dexter. After that, it was two nights in the hospital full of screaming babies and lectures from lactation consultants a.k.a lactation nazi's. I mean, I understand that they're just there to help new mother's (me) figure out how to get another human being to suckle on my nipple for the sake of food, rather than pleasure but honestly, lay off lady. I finally decided not to let them worry me when I went to this breastfeeding class on day 2 of the hospital stay and the lactation nazi running the class referred to myself and my baby as "Youse". Are you effing kidding me. I'm supposed to take advice from a person who thinks that the Youse is a word. Maybe I would consider taking her advice if I was asking her whether or not I should go and see a Poison concert or what colour to paint my double wide trailer, but anything else, she can eff off.
The other weird thing about this nazi was that although she didn't have a speech impediment, she pronounced the word "if" , as "ith". It was as though she had a speech impediment for just that word. Bottom line, she was an idiot and I eventually figured out how to breastfeed. Speaking of which, was anyone else aware of how much it would hurt in the beginning because I didn't have a clue. I guess with my pregnant glow and euphoria of having a baby, I didn't really realize that having your nipple pulled to the back of another human's throat (baby or not) is kind of uncomfortable. Never mind the fact that your nips have to adjust to the whole situation so be ready for blisters, bleeding and general sexiness. Oh ya, and how about the double breastpump? HILARIOUS! The lactation nazi made me pump my gorgeous boobies after every time I fed him to increase the flow of lava and I couldn't believe how ridiculous the pump is! Now I use it all the time but the first time you throw those fun bags into the pump, your boobs have definitely transitioned from titties to teats. When I was on a dairy farm in New Zealand, they had the EXACT same contraptions for the heffers to get their milk. I made sure to Moo every time the nazi hooked me up to it. To be honest, the joke got old after I did it twice but I kept doing it because sometimes a joke gets funny again just because you refuse to let it die. Look at Rodney Dangerfields career.
Anyhow, we brought him home and it's now been 6 weeks since he was forceped out of my amazing uterus and things are pretty good. I mean, as good as they can be really. He eats, he sleeps (kind of), he pees and poops and now he's kind of smiling a bit which is the best. I have to go for my 6 week check up which I'm not looking forward to. Honestly, after 22 hours of having roughly 14 different pairs of hands up me, I never want another doctor near my vajay ever again, but I guess I have no choice. The good news is sex is just around the corner which is a good thing. I've had some freaky sex dreams lately, the latest one involved this old lady cashier from The Metro. She wears about 500 buttons on her vest, most of them cats.
Stay tuned for more anecdotes of the first year of motherhood, told by moi.
If you like this blog, please subscribe if you don't like it, eat a fart.
Anyhow, I last left off with a story about the actual birth of Dexter. After that, it was two nights in the hospital full of screaming babies and lectures from lactation consultants a.k.a lactation nazi's. I mean, I understand that they're just there to help new mother's (me) figure out how to get another human being to suckle on my nipple for the sake of food, rather than pleasure but honestly, lay off lady. I finally decided not to let them worry me when I went to this breastfeeding class on day 2 of the hospital stay and the lactation nazi running the class referred to myself and my baby as "Youse". Are you effing kidding me. I'm supposed to take advice from a person who thinks that the Youse is a word. Maybe I would consider taking her advice if I was asking her whether or not I should go and see a Poison concert or what colour to paint my double wide trailer, but anything else, she can eff off.
The other weird thing about this nazi was that although she didn't have a speech impediment, she pronounced the word "if" , as "ith". It was as though she had a speech impediment for just that word. Bottom line, she was an idiot and I eventually figured out how to breastfeed. Speaking of which, was anyone else aware of how much it would hurt in the beginning because I didn't have a clue. I guess with my pregnant glow and euphoria of having a baby, I didn't really realize that having your nipple pulled to the back of another human's throat (baby or not) is kind of uncomfortable. Never mind the fact that your nips have to adjust to the whole situation so be ready for blisters, bleeding and general sexiness. Oh ya, and how about the double breastpump? HILARIOUS! The lactation nazi made me pump my gorgeous boobies after every time I fed him to increase the flow of lava and I couldn't believe how ridiculous the pump is! Now I use it all the time but the first time you throw those fun bags into the pump, your boobs have definitely transitioned from titties to teats. When I was on a dairy farm in New Zealand, they had the EXACT same contraptions for the heffers to get their milk. I made sure to Moo every time the nazi hooked me up to it. To be honest, the joke got old after I did it twice but I kept doing it because sometimes a joke gets funny again just because you refuse to let it die. Look at Rodney Dangerfields career.
Anyhow, we brought him home and it's now been 6 weeks since he was forceped out of my amazing uterus and things are pretty good. I mean, as good as they can be really. He eats, he sleeps (kind of), he pees and poops and now he's kind of smiling a bit which is the best. I have to go for my 6 week check up which I'm not looking forward to. Honestly, after 22 hours of having roughly 14 different pairs of hands up me, I never want another doctor near my vajay ever again, but I guess I have no choice. The good news is sex is just around the corner which is a good thing. I've had some freaky sex dreams lately, the latest one involved this old lady cashier from The Metro. She wears about 500 buttons on her vest, most of them cats.
Stay tuned for more anecdotes of the first year of motherhood, told by moi.
If you like this blog, please subscribe if you don't like it, eat a fart.
Tuesday, March 9, 2010
Here's an idea....keep it to yo' self
I'm writing another blog now because the baby hasn't come yet and when it does, I suspect I won't have as much time to write as I would like to, or at least that what everyone tells me. Since I've been with child people have told me a lot of things. Here are some other funny things people have told or asked me as I've become noticeably pregnant.
1) "Are you pregnant?"
2) "I have a feeling you're going to have a vaginal birth" (told to my by the old Second Cup lady)
3) "If you're anything like my wife, you're going to be ripped to shreds" (nice one)
4) "Why would you ever choose to do that to your body?"
5) "Is it yours?" (granted this was by a crazy man on the subway who may or may not have been high on opiates)
6) Me: "I'm pregnant"
Him: "Gross"
Then of course there's those classic people who LOVE to tell you how hard it is to be a new parent.
You tell them you're pregnant and the first thing out of their mouth is: "Say goodbye to sleep" or "Have lots of sex now"
when really I think the word they're looking for is "Congratulations" or maybe "You're a slut".
No one I really liked has ever said that stuff to me, just the annoying people and annoying they are. I'm 31, I'm not the star of an MTV show about being a teen mom so trying to scare me about the realities of newborns is stupid. It's kind of like those preachy ex-smokers. Just because you got through it doesn't mean it's ok to tell people how shitty it is, that just makes you a pain in the ass. Anyhow, my lack of sleep and celebicy is meant to come in 4 days so I better go hump and nap.
1) "Are you pregnant?"
2) "I have a feeling you're going to have a vaginal birth" (told to my by the old Second Cup lady)
3) "If you're anything like my wife, you're going to be ripped to shreds" (nice one)
4) "Why would you ever choose to do that to your body?"
5) "Is it yours?" (granted this was by a crazy man on the subway who may or may not have been high on opiates)
6) Me: "I'm pregnant"
Him: "Gross"
Then of course there's those classic people who LOVE to tell you how hard it is to be a new parent.
You tell them you're pregnant and the first thing out of their mouth is: "Say goodbye to sleep" or "Have lots of sex now"
when really I think the word they're looking for is "Congratulations" or maybe "You're a slut".
No one I really liked has ever said that stuff to me, just the annoying people and annoying they are. I'm 31, I'm not the star of an MTV show about being a teen mom so trying to scare me about the realities of newborns is stupid. It's kind of like those preachy ex-smokers. Just because you got through it doesn't mean it's ok to tell people how shitty it is, that just makes you a pain in the ass. Anyhow, my lack of sleep and celebicy is meant to come in 4 days so I better go hump and nap.
Sunday, March 7, 2010
It's The Final Countdown do do do do , do do do do do
I am meant to have my first baby in 6 days. Yup, in 6 days I will push, pull, and possibly poop my way into motherhood. Yup, you heard right...poop. This is not something they advertise in such incredible classics as: Look Who's Talking 1 &2, Nine Months or Oscar robbed 1988 Kevin Bacon masterpiece, She's Having a Baby.
Nope, no director chooses to share the realities of what really happens in the birthing room, it doesn't sell tickets. They also fail to show that your baby will most likely come out with a cone head, giant balls and or labia and other such non-cute afflictions, the result of a uterus contracting you out of a birth canal. Thank god this is not a journey we can remember. Could you imagine? Picture it , Sicily 1947...wait sorry, wrong blog, that's my Ode to Patrillo Blog that I haven't quite started.
Ok, picture it, you're 30 and if you don't squeeze yourself out of a Rhino's ass you'll die. That is pretty much the equivalent of what's about to happen to this tiny little baby inside of me. I am simply the vessel; a rhino's ass.
So needless to say, the anticipation is killing me but it's not a bad anticipation. Anyone who has done this knows that it's an exciting and thrilling anticipation but honestly, you would HAVE to be lying if you didn't admit that shitting the bed, contractions, baby through birth canal, placenta action and stiches didn't freak you out just a little bit. Regardless, there's no turning back now, which is part of the calm. It's been happening forever and will continue to happen long after I have children but in the meantime, I am writing this blog over the next twelve months in order to learn how to cook my way through Julia Child's cookbook. Just kidding (I bet that's the most overused blog joke of all time) I will be taking myself and you through the first 12 months of motherhood. So here we go, welcome to "From Titties to Teats: A humourous look at the first year of motherhood", as told by Larissa Ann Primeau.
Nope, no director chooses to share the realities of what really happens in the birthing room, it doesn't sell tickets. They also fail to show that your baby will most likely come out with a cone head, giant balls and or labia and other such non-cute afflictions, the result of a uterus contracting you out of a birth canal. Thank god this is not a journey we can remember. Could you imagine? Picture it , Sicily 1947...wait sorry, wrong blog, that's my Ode to Patrillo Blog that I haven't quite started.
Ok, picture it, you're 30 and if you don't squeeze yourself out of a Rhino's ass you'll die. That is pretty much the equivalent of what's about to happen to this tiny little baby inside of me. I am simply the vessel; a rhino's ass.
So needless to say, the anticipation is killing me but it's not a bad anticipation. Anyone who has done this knows that it's an exciting and thrilling anticipation but honestly, you would HAVE to be lying if you didn't admit that shitting the bed, contractions, baby through birth canal, placenta action and stiches didn't freak you out just a little bit. Regardless, there's no turning back now, which is part of the calm. It's been happening forever and will continue to happen long after I have children but in the meantime, I am writing this blog over the next twelve months in order to learn how to cook my way through Julia Child's cookbook. Just kidding (I bet that's the most overused blog joke of all time) I will be taking myself and you through the first 12 months of motherhood. So here we go, welcome to "From Titties to Teats: A humourous look at the first year of motherhood", as told by Larissa Ann Primeau.
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