Oct
3
October 3, 2006
To those of you who wrote to me after yesterday’s entry, thank you. It means more to me than I can adequately explain.
I have deleted the entry because JB was unhappy with how he was mentioned. To be absolutely goddamn crystal clear, I did not mean to imply he was abusive in any way shape or form. I was trying to talk about my own regret for arguing in front of Riley, but it’s true that sometimes I am completely surprised by the disconnect between what I think I’m saying and what people hear.
I didn’t know how to re-phrase anything in a manner which he would find acceptable, so I just got rid of it. I’m sorry I had to do so, because it was honest and the way some of you responded made me feel like I did something good by sharing my story. I wish I didn’t have to censor myself, especially over something I think is important to admit and talk about.
I do think about what I write here and elsewhere and how it might impact other people. I think about it with regards to Riley, whether or not it’s okay to talk about him and post photos of him, when he isn’t in a position to give me permission to do so. I don’t know for certain. I can only stay aware of what I’m doing, and make changes if I feel they’re necessary.
It’s pretty hard to talk about the ups and downs in your life if you never refer to anyone else. On one hand, I feel like this is my website, and I’m writing about my life. It’s about me, and how I feel. On the other hand, I have to respect the fact that JB may not want certain details publicized, because it’s his life too.
I’m frustrated because you guys helped me so much yesterday, and to be told that the entry was negative brings me right back to the same place of shame and regret.
But. This is not Enforced Blog Therapy. This is not where my family’s dirty laundry is supposed to be dragged out for everyone to see. I get that.
And now it’s time to move on. So…
Look! This guy is constipated. I took this photo of a paused commercial the other night, because I thought it was so ridiculous. I can’t remember what was being advertised, presumably some sort of gastro-intestinal miracle drug, but seriously. Was this the best they could do?
Also, if you are having a not-so-great weekend, I highly recommend arranging for a giant box of GUM to be delivered to your house.
Thanks to a fabulous reader who works at Wrigley, I got all hooked up with my favorite Eclipse Polar Mint gum, plus a festive assortment of other chewables. I have to say, the lemon gum sounded about as appealing as spraying my mouth with Citronella, but it is, in fact, magically goddamn delicious.
I am trying to pace myself with the Plethora O’ Gum, otherwise I’ll hit some kind of glycerin/rosin overload and I, too, will have a message emblazoned across my belly: I CANNOT SHIT FOR I AM FULL OF GUM.
Sep
28
September 28, 2006
Not only was Riley nearly rash-free this morning, but he also ate an entire container of yogurt. To say this was a relief is a major understatement; when I saw that last spoonful go down his eager little gullet I did the Cabbage Patch right there in the kitchen.
If that mental picture doesn’t do you in, then let me tell you exactly how I spent our dinner hour last night: performing a complicated dance involving two pairs of men’s boxer-briefs, all in an attempt to amuse and distract the boy long enough so that his father could sneak a bite of food in his mouth.
See, Riley has been super fussy about eating lately – thanks, Mystery Viral SpotFest! – and he kept shoving away his dinner. We found that if he was distracted by something, he’d forget about his whole null-by-mouth stance for a minute and take a bite. So there I was, doing jumping jacks, comically dropping things on the floor, making rooster sounds, and generally being a freak, a super-freak, while JB hovered nearby, spoon at the ready. I had nearly exhausted everyone’s patience when I grabbed two pairs of JB’s underwear from a pile of laundry and began whipping them around and around like a deranged flag majorette, while singing, “Ya ta, ta ta ta TA ta, ta ta ta TA TA, eat-your-food!”
This certainly got his attention, although I don’t really know if it was worth the two bites of mashed potato JB snuck in while I nearly gave myself a groin injury leaping around the living room and singing and whirling a couple pairs of underwear in the air.
Basically, I’m very happy that Riley’s eating again because not only will that hopefully improve his overall disposition, but it should lessen the chances that tonight I’ll find myself trying to incorporate a pair of Hanes into my own special rendition of The Worm. I mean, The Worm’s hard enough on its own, you know?
The things we do to entertain this child, I swear. You should see JB’s “motorbike” routine, where he sticks his tongue between his lips to make that farty “pbbbbblllttth” sound while he revs invisible bike handles and navigates big jumps where he, of course, gets massive air. Or the weird horse gallop – complete with hummed Lone Ranger theme music – I like to do up and down the hallway with Riley bouncing in my arms. Or the team “Mockingbird” routine JB and I do together, a la Dumb and Dumber.
It’s almost like we are ridiculously silly megadorks at heart who were just dying for an excuse to act retarded 24 hours a day. Almost.
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