Idiots

Every day I am reminded that we are surrounded by idiots.  Our lovely neighbors are a prime example and a brief review of just about any article's comment section on the Internet is another example of the stupidity I face on a daily basis.  It bothers me that Americans are required to attend school until we are 17 years old yet nobody seems to actually be learning anything (which is a whole other blog post for another day...that will probably occur around election time when I'm at my wits end with all of the ignorance that abounds...this will eventually lead into a blog post about stupid people breeding).

Anyway, there must be something about the area where we live that attracts the dumbest of the dumb.  While we live in a pretty nice neighborhood I suppose idiocy knows no boundaries.  At 2:30 in the morning Marcus and I were awakened (awoken?) by a young man practicing his skateboarding moves in the parking lot directly across the street from us.  Why, do you ask, was someone skateboarding at 2:30 in the morning in the freezing cold?  Well, I would respond, he is a classic case of a flippin' idiot.  A skateboard-flippin' idiot to be exact.  This normally wouldn't bother me at all except, well, it was 2:30 in the morning.  Maybe part of me is jealous that this young man apparently has no other responsibility except to skateboard in the middle of the night.  Or, maybe I'm just pissed off because he woke me up from a deep slumber.  It's probably the latter because, who am I kidding?  Even without the responsibilities that I have today you would be hard pressed to find me skateboarding at 2:30 in the morning...or any time of day for that matter.

The more I think about it, there must be something with that particular parking lot that attracts idiots.  Again, in the mornings, around 6:00 or so, the construction crews for the university across the street start to show up.  One morning this week they decided it would be fun to have a car horn fight.  Yay.  Please, continue honking your car horn at each other for approximately 5 minutes and think it's funny.  You know what else is funny?  A brick through your windshield.

So, what does this say about me?  Well, for one, I'm clearly not a morning person.  Two, I have zero tolerance for those who exhibit absolutely no common sense or regard for anyone but themselves.  Three, I think it's safe to say that by the time I reach the age of 70 (God willing) I'll probably be living in the mountains with a bunch of goats.

Alex vs. The Plant

Remember the time I said that Alex had done something bad and that, despite her short 9 months of life, knew she had done something bad?  Well, this weekend she did something even worse, though in her defense it was Marcus's and my fault that it happened at all.

This weekend we kicked off our fun, old-fashioned, family Christmas (Christmas Vacation, anybody?!) by driving out into the country and chopping down our own Christmas tree (we remembered the saw in case anyone was worried).  When we got it home Alex was hell bent on not taking a nap so I went ahead and started dragging the Christmas decorations up, from the basement figuring this would be fun for her and me.  At the same time Marcus was busy doing whatever it is Marcus does on a semi-lazy Saturday afternoon and so, between the two of us, we were preoccupied doing really important stuff (Read: maybe neglecting our child).

I have, or should I say "had," a basil plant on a plant stand in the living room in front of a window that gets the most sun.  I can't tell you how many times I've brought this plant back from the brink.  It's at least 3 years old and has maybe 1 more life left in it.  Once Alex started crawling I knew it would have to go elsewhere but that elsewhere is Marcus's office and I don't like to leave the curtains open in that room during the night because of all of the electronics in there.  In addition it's virtually impossible for me to remember to open those particular curtains in the morning, allowing the plant to get sunlight and thus the potential for nearly killing the plant increases.  So, long story short, the plant was in the living room despite the fact I knew that was a bad idea.

Now, Alex is crawling and most recently has mastered the fine art of pulling herself up.  Both of these activities should  have indicated to me that now was the time to move the plant out of the living room but "lazy" is my middle name and I just never got around to moving it.  It would have been in my better interests to listen to my inner voices (this one time, anyway) and move the darn thing because this weekend Alex set out to murder my plant for the last time.

As I was trimming the tree and Marcus was doing Marcus stuff we both watched as Alex crawled to the basil plant.  We even watched as she grabbed the top rung of the plant stand and both thought to ourselves, "That's probably not a good idea," only to turn around and go back to the really important things we were doing.  Within a matter of seconds the inevitable crash of a potted plant and child reverberated through the house.   Marcus and I looked over to see Alex, in a daze under the plant stand (which is very light before anyone gets all CPS on us), and the pot broken into multiple pieces with my beloved, ancient basil plant completely uprooted.

So, you may wonder, what lessons did we take home from this experience?  1.  If Alex looks like she’s about to get in trouble, she is, no question about it.  2.  Basil plants are surprisingly resilient.  3.  Terracotta pots are not resilient.  4.  No matter what, I cannot get mad at this face…at least not yet.

It was an ugly "plant" anyway.  (Seriously, Christmas Vacation, anyone?!  C'mon!)

Diary Entry # 3

Day Too Many To Count:  Miracles of miracles!  I feel the end is nigh.  For nine whole months Alexandra the Great has continued her diminutive supremacy over us.  While her demands have grown louder her grip on us has loosened.  For 7 straight days the Great One has slept through the entire night.   While she has awoken at various odd times we, her servants, have fought over who will meet her needs and in the end she has fallen back asleep with nary a peep.  Is it too early to rejoice in our new found ability to sleep?  That may be, but for now we will take it and so help us God, we will look back on this week of solid sleep with fondness and as a time of great peace in our land.

Update 12/9/2011:  It was a little too early to rejoice.  We got 10 straight days of uninterrupted sleep and now we're back to waking up in the middle of the night.  Oh, well.  It was fun while it lasted.  

The Moment Alex Did Something Bad

The other morning I was busy getting ready to leave for work and left Alex to her own devices, scooting around the kitchen/living room area in her walker.  Every few seconds or so I would glance over to see what she was up to and for the most part she was harassing the cat with her incessant stares and vocalizations.  Then, things got quiet.  Despite my meager 9 months of parenthood, I'm no dummy.  I know when things get quiet children are up to something and surprisingly, even at 9 months, no noise means no good.  So, I walked over to investigate as she was no longer in my line of vision and as I came around the corner I saw both Alex and the cat (partners in crime already) playing with the begonia plant I had brought in from the cold.  "Alex!" I said and immediately her shoulders shot to her ears in a "Oh, crap" move, she dropped the stem and flowers from her hands and turned to look at me, grinning from ear to ear with her one, little dimple making me forget altogether what the problem was in the first place.  This leads me to one, important insight about myself:  I'm a sucker for cute blondes with dimples.

"What?  This plant?  I wasn't touching this plant I was just looking at it."

Happy Out of the Womb Birthday!

Someone pointed out to us the other day that Alex has now offically been out of the womb longer than she was in.  It was an interesting insight that I had never considered before.  So, happy 8.5 months of out of the womb life, Alexandra!  You wanted to be a part of this world sooner than anticipated and I think it's pretty obvious why...you want to take over the world.

And She's Off!

Throughout the entire house we have wood floors which, depending on Alex's mode of transportation at the time, is a good thing or a bad thing. It's a bad thing because crawling on wood floors is a bit harder to do than crawling on carpet, especially when wearing long pants and especially when crawling is a new activity you're just learning. Poor Alex get's so tuckered out after only an inch or two of moving forward that she takes frequent breaks, striking the upward-facing dog pose momentarily before resuming her trek. She also frequently loses all patience (a trait she may or may not have inherited from her mamma) with her slow progression and, after a bit of time has passed and she hasn't reached her goal, the robot-like crawls are accompanied with tears.

On the other hand, wood floors are perfect for a walker. Almost from day one we were able to calm Alex down just by standing her up-right and as a result her legs are strong and she seems to be ready to walk at any moment. Marcus couldn’t wait to buy a walker for her once it became clear she was ready to get going whatever that criteria was…I can’t remember. It’s been a long two months but I digress.

Anyway, after we got the walker and she grew accustomed to it she was only able to motor backwards; the forward motion escaped her. I'll never forget when Norma was visiting and we were sitting on one side of the table looking at family photos. Alex was in her walker on the other side of the table occupying her time by trying to chew on the kitchen table leg (a feat which will undoubtedly one day result in her toppling over, onto the floor). Something we did must have caught her attention and I looked over to my left as a backward moving, blonde head appeared, neck straining to see us from around the corner of the table, with a look on her face that said "Hey. Hey, guys. What's so funny?"

It took Alex about a month to really get the hang of moving around in her walker. Now she can go anywhere and any which way: Forwards, backwards, and sideways. Her little legs move so quickly and despite her bubble being, literally, a foot in diameter she can maneuver around quite skillfully. With this new found freedom she’s discovered numerous things to entertain her around the house: the dishtowel is a favorite object of her desire as is the cat. It’s so much fun to see her inspecting her surroundings and at times attempting to mouth something that’s juusssttt out of reach. Truly, though, and this will sound sadistic, my favorite is when she's really upset and the tears are flowing. As she cries her little legs move faster than ever in a fit of fury and they propel her across the room. The best part is that her eyes are shut tight the whole time so she really has no clue where she’s going (though it’s debatable if she would know with her eyes open).

Most of all though, my favorite part of Alex’s walker skills is seeing her in her walker gummy grin and all, so proud of her ability to move around the kitchen like mommy and daddy. She holds her head up high and lifts those knees up in a very impressive high-step all the while watching us to be sure that we are watching her.

A Night of Tricks and Treats

I’m sure some of you may be wondering how Alex’s first Halloween went. In a nutshell it went fantastically.

Out of a nutshell we were over prepared yet under prepared all at the same time. This year Marcus decided we would be “that” house, the house that hands out full-sized candy bars. Last year we had maybe a dozen kids show up so, with a BJ’s membership, purchasing a dozen or so large candy bars wasn’t too big of an expense. Marcus also thought it would be a good idea to buy a bag of miniature sized candy bars “just in case.” Despite the fact I knew it was overkill I acquiesced because let’s be honest, it’s not every day Marcus willingly buys extraneous items. With that being said I’ll give you two guesses what we have sitting in a giant, orange bowl a week and half later. If you guessed almost an entire bag of miniature candy bars and roughly one dozen, full-sized candy bars you would be correct.

The area we were under prepared for was in the decision to dress-up Alex or not. In the back of my mind I knew I would regret it if we didn't dress her up. However, and here’s where I channeled Marcus, I just could not fathom paying almost $20 for a costume she would wear once and for a grand total of one hour. As my efforts to be cheap persisted the costumes continued to sell until it became clear we were not purchasing a Halloween costume. Finally, three days before the big event, I took my girlfriend up on her offer to let us borrow her eldest daughter’s old Halloween costume (pictured below). I’m not entirely sure if she’s a baby chick or a baby duck. Judging by the beak she’s a chick but judging by the tail (not pictured) she’s a duck. The only thing that’s for certain is she’s absolutely adorable.

On the day of Halloween, Marcus and I rushed home and prepared for the trick-or-treaters. We lit the candle in our pumpkin, put the large bowl of candy near the front door and waited. And waited. And waited. And waited. As night began to fall and not one, single trick-or-treater arrived at our doorstep we decided to dress Alex in her costume and bring her over to our neighbors. Here’s a little-known, fun fact about Miss Alex: She hates being dressed. Judging by the tears I would guess getting dressed for her is as much fun as it is for an adult to get a root canal. So, you can only imagine what it was like getting her into a Halloween costume. A mere 15 minutes and shot of vodka (for mommy) later she was finally ready for her first trick-or-treat. We arrived next door just as our neighbor was getting her pumpkins ready. She saw us coming and quickly ran inside to prepare for our grand arrival. We walked up the steps, giddy with anticipation, and loudly proclaimed “Trick-or-treat!” The door flung open to “ohs” and “ahs,” everyone smiling broadly as Alex made her grand entrance. Everyone smiling broadly, that is, except for Alex. She was unimpressed. It would appear that Halloween is a juvenile holiday far beneath her discerning taste for high-brow National Geographic articles and a fine brandy.

After a few minutes of chit-chat, picture taking, and Alex drooling on a wrapped Reese's Peanut Butter Cup we decided to head home and hope for at least one trick-or-treater. Our wish was granted as we walked up the sidewalk followed closely by our first guest of the night. Unfortunately, he was…how shall I put this…not exactly what I had in mind when it comes to traditional trick-or-treaters, i.e. children. While legally he was a child I don’t think technically he should have been trick-or-treating. He was roughly 16 years old, 200 pounds, and wearing no costume to speak of except a hockey mask as he stood at our front door expecting the goods with nary a word spoken. *sigh* Marcus held the bowl of candy out to the “trick-or-treater” only to find himself admonishing the teen for attempting to take two, large candy bars. “Seriously, dude?” were the words that came out of our mouths. He departed without a thank you and we were left feeling dejected that our excitement over Halloween had culminated in a hockey mask-wearing, overweight teenager attempting to rob us of our coveted, full-sized candy bars.

After the hockey masked avenger left, the doorbell rang a few more times and each time we were greeted by a group of teenagers. I guess our idea to be “that” house completely back-fired. Instead of bringing more (heck, any) adorable children who were just beginning to grasp the concept of Halloween to our door, our plan brought less-than-adorable teenagers who questionably should have been trick-or-treating.

The time during which we spent answering the door we also Skyped with Alex’s grandma and grandpa in New Jersey. It was during this time that Alex did a trick of her own; she crawled for the very first time and directly towards the computer screen. The night’s disappointments quickly faded away as did our ability to be lazy parents and sit on a couch while Alex played on the floor, mostly immobile.On the bright side if I haven’t lost that last 5 pregnancy pounds yet I have a feeling I will be very, very soon provided I don’t continue to hit-up the Halloween candy bowl.

Disregard the rotting pumpkin and focus on the cuteness that is the baby chick-duck