So, we're at the doctor's office yesterday. In the waiting room. (I'll spare you the details of why we were there.)
And Toddler Kaos walks over to this lady and starts making eyes at her.
She starts talking to him. And he doesn't reply.
She was a smoker. He's a smart kid and not only does he not talk to strangers, he doesn't talk to women who look 80 but are actually only 50 because they smoke.
And then she said, "Are you a mama's boy?"
And he looked over at us like, "WTF?"
What I think she really meant by her question was, "Are you a pussy?"
Because really, all 16 month old boys are mama's boys. Honestly.
Showing posts with label Baby Kaos. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Baby Kaos. Show all posts
Thursday, January 10, 2008
Wednesday, September 12, 2007
Happy Birthday, Baby Kaos!
Baby Kaos turned one on Monday. 
We celebrated by trying halibut, which he didn’t care for. But, it could’ve been because I splashed it with some lime juice, and added a bit of salt and pepper and then threw it on the grill. Since he made quite the face, and refused to eat any more halibut, he had black beans and avocado, with a side of Cheerios.
As Lee would say, he’s circumnavigated the sun one time.
Wednesday, September 05, 2007
New Trick
Baby Kaos has a new trick.
He tried mac and cheese today for the first time. No, I didn't use the boxed kind.
I used small shell pasta, and a little butter, and a smidge of 1% milk, and some Kraft American cheese slices...melted it all together...mmm, tasty!
So, Baby Kaos' new trick:
Suck the cheese sauce off the pasta and spit the pasta out!
He's quite the talented one. It's most impressive!
He tried mac and cheese today for the first time. No, I didn't use the boxed kind.
I used small shell pasta, and a little butter, and a smidge of 1% milk, and some Kraft American cheese slices...melted it all together...mmm, tasty!
So, Baby Kaos' new trick:
Suck the cheese sauce off the pasta and spit the pasta out!
He's quite the talented one. It's most impressive!
Sunday, August 26, 2007
New Project
We’re currently working really hard on a new project. Actually, we figure it’s an on-going project, and that it’ll take a while.
Zel and I are working really hard to not curse.
For those of you who know us, you know this is a major fucking challenge. We have mouths like a sailor and a trucker.
The reason we don’t want to curse any more is because of Baby Kaos. We’d really hate for him to be chatting with one of his Grandmothers on the phone and say, “Goddamnit, Grandma!” or “This toy is a piece of shit!” or “My room is a fucking disaster!”
One idea to help us not curse involves money. Usually, when Zel has to pay for something, he sits up and pays attention (no pun intended, but it’s funny all the same). The idea is that for each time we curse, we have to put a quarter in a jar and then whenever we have enough quarters, we’ll put the money into college saving account for Baby Kaos. We’ll probably have a decent amount of money in a couple of days. Honestly.
We tried to substitute other words for curse words. Like, fart or frick = fuck; shoot = shit; darn = damn. But that’s not working because it’s not us. We’re cursers.
Of course, we’re trying to approach the entire project with humor. There are some substitution words that are a bit funny that we’ve started using:
Malarkey. That’s a good word. As in, “That’s a bunch of malarkey, Grandma!”
Baloney. That’s an ok word. “This toy is a piece of baloney!”
But, Pimento Loaf is better, but only because pimento loaf is a nasty nasty thing. “My room is a pimento loafing disaster!”
So far, so good.
But, I think we’re going to go with “smurf”. I’m not smurfing kidding here.
Wish us luck, because we need all the smurfing luck we can get our hands on with this project.
Zel and I are working really hard to not curse.
For those of you who know us, you know this is a major fucking challenge. We have mouths like a sailor and a trucker.
The reason we don’t want to curse any more is because of Baby Kaos. We’d really hate for him to be chatting with one of his Grandmothers on the phone and say, “Goddamnit, Grandma!” or “This toy is a piece of shit!” or “My room is a fucking disaster!”
One idea to help us not curse involves money. Usually, when Zel has to pay for something, he sits up and pays attention (no pun intended, but it’s funny all the same). The idea is that for each time we curse, we have to put a quarter in a jar and then whenever we have enough quarters, we’ll put the money into college saving account for Baby Kaos. We’ll probably have a decent amount of money in a couple of days. Honestly.
We tried to substitute other words for curse words. Like, fart or frick = fuck; shoot = shit; darn = damn. But that’s not working because it’s not us. We’re cursers.
Of course, we’re trying to approach the entire project with humor. There are some substitution words that are a bit funny that we’ve started using:
Malarkey. That’s a good word. As in, “That’s a bunch of malarkey, Grandma!”
Baloney. That’s an ok word. “This toy is a piece of baloney!”
But, Pimento Loaf is better, but only because pimento loaf is a nasty nasty thing. “My room is a pimento loafing disaster!”
So far, so good.
But, I think we’re going to go with “smurf”. I’m not smurfing kidding here.
Wish us luck, because we need all the smurfing luck we can get our hands on with this project.
Saturday, August 11, 2007
Disposable Thermometers?
We grew up with mercury thermometers, and we're fine, just fine.
The latest and greatest invention is the digital thermometer. We have four; yes, F-O-U-R digital thermometers.
We have two that can go into a person's ear, which we received for baby shower gifts. We have two that you can use in the mouth, under the arm, or up the A. I purchased these: one for home and one for the diaper bag.
The trouble started Thursday night, when Baby Kaos felt like he was going to spontaneously combust. I grabbed the non-ear thermometer...dead battery. I found non-ear thermometer #2 in the diaper bag...dead battery.
WTF??? I've had these non-ear thermometers less than a year. My son has been sick a total of TWICE in his 11 months of life.
My Mommy-OCD kicked in, and I kept pushing the “On” button on one of the non-ear thermometers. FINALLY, it decided to give me one attempt. I stuck the thermometer under his arm: 103.something. Sweet Jesus. His entire body was hot to the touch, and it was a bit scary.
Although Baby Kaos has never been too fond of the ear thermometer I tried and got a similar reading. And I had to wrastle him down to get it. And, I'm never sure about this thermometer...did I stick it in far enough...did I stick it in too far...I hope I don't hurt him....
We were up for about 2 hours in the middle of the night. Went to the doc's the next day. Ear infection. No wonder he hollered when the ear thermometer went in. Sorry, Baby Kaos.
On Friday afternoon, I went on a mission to find a new battery for the non-ear thermometer. I start calling around. I call the pharmacies: no battery. I call Radio Shack: Special order for $4.99 + Shipping (Huh? I may as well get a new goddamned thermometer!). I call the jewelers: $14.02 with tax, lifetime warranty. If, at any point in my life, the battery dies, they'll replace it for free. That's nice.
Hang on just a second: On the thermometer instructions that I kept, it says, “Battery Life: more than 300 measurements or approximately 2 years if used every other day.” My Mommy-OCD isn't that bad, I don't take Baby Kaos' temp every other day. The company is getting a phone call on Monday.
But, since I can't track down a reasonably priced thermometer battery in my community, are thermometers now disposable?
The latest and greatest invention is the digital thermometer. We have four; yes, F-O-U-R digital thermometers.
We have two that can go into a person's ear, which we received for baby shower gifts. We have two that you can use in the mouth, under the arm, or up the A. I purchased these: one for home and one for the diaper bag.
The trouble started Thursday night, when Baby Kaos felt like he was going to spontaneously combust. I grabbed the non-ear thermometer...dead battery. I found non-ear thermometer #2 in the diaper bag...dead battery.
WTF??? I've had these non-ear thermometers less than a year. My son has been sick a total of TWICE in his 11 months of life.
My Mommy-OCD kicked in, and I kept pushing the “On” button on one of the non-ear thermometers. FINALLY, it decided to give me one attempt. I stuck the thermometer under his arm: 103.something. Sweet Jesus. His entire body was hot to the touch, and it was a bit scary.
Although Baby Kaos has never been too fond of the ear thermometer I tried and got a similar reading. And I had to wrastle him down to get it. And, I'm never sure about this thermometer...did I stick it in far enough...did I stick it in too far...I hope I don't hurt him....
We were up for about 2 hours in the middle of the night. Went to the doc's the next day. Ear infection. No wonder he hollered when the ear thermometer went in. Sorry, Baby Kaos.
On Friday afternoon, I went on a mission to find a new battery for the non-ear thermometer. I start calling around. I call the pharmacies: no battery. I call Radio Shack: Special order for $4.99 + Shipping (Huh? I may as well get a new goddamned thermometer!). I call the jewelers: $14.02 with tax, lifetime warranty. If, at any point in my life, the battery dies, they'll replace it for free. That's nice.
Hang on just a second: On the thermometer instructions that I kept, it says, “Battery Life: more than 300 measurements or approximately 2 years if used every other day.” My Mommy-OCD isn't that bad, I don't take Baby Kaos' temp every other day. The company is getting a phone call on Monday.
But, since I can't track down a reasonably priced thermometer battery in my community, are thermometers now disposable?
Tuesday, August 07, 2007
Comment of the Day, August 7, 2007
So, I'm calling around to local stores, trying to find a specific baby-proofing lock. I'm looking for a Safety 1st, Lazy Susan Cabinet Lock.
Yes, I used the Inter-Web and tried to find one. And find one I did...for $2.97. And a mere $10.00 s/h. No, I'm not making this up. TEN DOLLARS to ship and handle a piece of plastic that cost $0.50 to make. Dry eff in the A, no reach-around.
I've looked at the Empire, but they don't have the specific lock I'm looking for. So, I call around.
Store 1
A major corporation; not the best customer service when you're in the store generally means not the best customer service when you're on the phone. I tell the guy at the Special Order Service Desk that I'm looking for a specific childproofing lock, I know they carry the brand, but they don't carry the lock. He asks me what kind of lock; I tell him it's a Safety 1st, Lazy Susan Cabinet Lock, and ask if they would be willing to order it for me. I didn't tell him that I want to see if they can special order it for me and not charge me $13.00 for it.
“And what's this for again?” he asks.
“Childproofing,” I say. I'm patient. He's a bit on the slow side...probably not getting enough fresh air.
He tells me that he's looking in the computer for Safety 1st, but that it's not coming up. Nothing called Safety 1st is coming up. He tells me that he's never heard of Safety 1st, but that he's also not surprised he's never heard of it because they "carry a lot of different stuff here at The Major Corporation."
He tells me that he needs to do a bit more searching and he's going to set the phone down. He set the phone down. He did not put me on hold. He SET THE PHONE DOWN ON THE COUNTER. I hung up; I don't have time for this shit.
Store 2
I call the mom-and-pop store, which is sometimes referred to as “Store, Our Store” because one or both of The Girls claimed she saw Huey Lewis and his dad there.
I tell the gal on the phone at the mom-and-pop that I'm looking for a specific childproofing item: the Safety 1st, Lazy Susan Cabinet Lock and ask her if they carry such a thing.
“Jus a sec,” she says. (yes, she said, “Jus” not “Just”; God bless 'er!)
She continues, but not quite in my ear, “Hey, Craig! Do we carry baby proofin' stuff?”
In my head: “Oh, Sweet Jesus.”
Craig: “Uh, yeah! On aisle 10, on the left.”
She comes back to me, “It's on aisle 10, on the left.”
"Mkay."
Out loud, I said, “Ok, so you carry it then?”
“Well,” she said, “the childproofing stuff is on aisle 10, on the left. So you'd need to take a left at aisle 10.”
No, I didn't go ask her to check. Instead, I said, “Thank you very much. I appreciate your time.”
“You're welcome,” she said.
Wow. What the goddamn do you say to something like that? Because it was kinda funny; kinda not.
At least I know exactly where to go in the Store, Our Store: aisle ten, on the left.
Yes, I used the Inter-Web and tried to find one. And find one I did...for $2.97. And a mere $10.00 s/h. No, I'm not making this up. TEN DOLLARS to ship and handle a piece of plastic that cost $0.50 to make. Dry eff in the A, no reach-around.
I've looked at the Empire, but they don't have the specific lock I'm looking for. So, I call around.
Store 1
A major corporation; not the best customer service when you're in the store generally means not the best customer service when you're on the phone. I tell the guy at the Special Order Service Desk that I'm looking for a specific childproofing lock, I know they carry the brand, but they don't carry the lock. He asks me what kind of lock; I tell him it's a Safety 1st, Lazy Susan Cabinet Lock, and ask if they would be willing to order it for me. I didn't tell him that I want to see if they can special order it for me and not charge me $13.00 for it.
“And what's this for again?” he asks.
“Childproofing,” I say. I'm patient. He's a bit on the slow side...probably not getting enough fresh air.
He tells me that he's looking in the computer for Safety 1st, but that it's not coming up. Nothing called Safety 1st is coming up. He tells me that he's never heard of Safety 1st, but that he's also not surprised he's never heard of it because they "carry a lot of different stuff here at The Major Corporation."
He tells me that he needs to do a bit more searching and he's going to set the phone down. He set the phone down. He did not put me on hold. He SET THE PHONE DOWN ON THE COUNTER. I hung up; I don't have time for this shit.
Store 2
I call the mom-and-pop store, which is sometimes referred to as “Store, Our Store” because one or both of The Girls claimed she saw Huey Lewis and his dad there.
I tell the gal on the phone at the mom-and-pop that I'm looking for a specific childproofing item: the Safety 1st, Lazy Susan Cabinet Lock and ask her if they carry such a thing.
“Jus a sec,” she says. (yes, she said, “Jus” not “Just”; God bless 'er!)
She continues, but not quite in my ear, “Hey, Craig! Do we carry baby proofin' stuff?”
In my head: “Oh, Sweet Jesus.”
Craig: “Uh, yeah! On aisle 10, on the left.”
She comes back to me, “It's on aisle 10, on the left.”
"Mkay."
Out loud, I said, “Ok, so you carry it then?”
“Well,” she said, “the childproofing stuff is on aisle 10, on the left. So you'd need to take a left at aisle 10.”
No, I didn't go ask her to check. Instead, I said, “Thank you very much. I appreciate your time.”
“You're welcome,” she said.
Wow. What the goddamn do you say to something like that? Because it was kinda funny; kinda not.
At least I know exactly where to go in the Store, Our Store: aisle ten, on the left.
Saturday, June 16, 2007
No thanks. I'm finished.
I quit my job yesterday.
Actually, I resigned. I'm a grown-up. Grown-ups resign. When you're a teenager working at Carl's Jr., you quit.
Anyway, I'm done being the Tobacco Prevention Queen. No thanks. I'm finished.
I'm done enforcing the laws around smoking related issues. I've written a law where I made it illegal to smoke on county-owned properties, including the fairgrounds. I'm not what you'd call popular out at the fairgrounds. I'm responsible for making sure you don't sell tobacco to minors because it's illegal for minors to smoke. But, I'm not responsible for making sure the kids who smoke get in trouble—that'd be the police. Finally, I'm responsible for making sure that there is no smoking in public places, including within 25 feet of any door, window, or air intake system.
No thanks. I'm finished. The only downside is that people won't respect my authority any more.
I'm done with meetings. Especially the meetings where I want to poke my eyes out with my latte straws. The other day I was in a meeting and my arch-nemesis was knitting. It wasn't the knitting that bothered me—I often times will work on a quilt binding while I'm in a meeting. But, my arch-nemesis was knitting, and she wouldn't shut the goddamn up, and I wanted to poke her eyes out with her knitting needles.
No thanks. I'm finished. The only downside is I won't have too many more opportunities to poke out the eyes of my arch-nemesis.
I'm done with not being on a regular schedule. This is of the up most importance to me because Baby Kaos is on a schedule. Sometimes the poke-you-eyes-out meetings are in the middle of afternoon nap.
No thanks. I'm finished. The upside is I'll be able to take an afternoon nap with Baby Kaos if I wanna.
I'm done with the travel. Before Baby Kaos was born, I was traveling far and wide and often, but that's a blog for another day. And now, I have this overwhelming urge to not leave my baby.
No thanks. I'm finished. I'm done with the rock-star job.
I like to think of it as having a career change: I'm going to be a full-time Early Childhood Developmental Specialist, with a sample size of one.
Actually, I resigned. I'm a grown-up. Grown-ups resign. When you're a teenager working at Carl's Jr., you quit.
Anyway, I'm done being the Tobacco Prevention Queen. No thanks. I'm finished.
I'm done enforcing the laws around smoking related issues. I've written a law where I made it illegal to smoke on county-owned properties, including the fairgrounds. I'm not what you'd call popular out at the fairgrounds. I'm responsible for making sure you don't sell tobacco to minors because it's illegal for minors to smoke. But, I'm not responsible for making sure the kids who smoke get in trouble—that'd be the police. Finally, I'm responsible for making sure that there is no smoking in public places, including within 25 feet of any door, window, or air intake system.
No thanks. I'm finished. The only downside is that people won't respect my authority any more.
I'm done with meetings. Especially the meetings where I want to poke my eyes out with my latte straws. The other day I was in a meeting and my arch-nemesis was knitting. It wasn't the knitting that bothered me—I often times will work on a quilt binding while I'm in a meeting. But, my arch-nemesis was knitting, and she wouldn't shut the goddamn up, and I wanted to poke her eyes out with her knitting needles.
No thanks. I'm finished. The only downside is I won't have too many more opportunities to poke out the eyes of my arch-nemesis.
I'm done with not being on a regular schedule. This is of the up most importance to me because Baby Kaos is on a schedule. Sometimes the poke-you-eyes-out meetings are in the middle of afternoon nap.
No thanks. I'm finished. The upside is I'll be able to take an afternoon nap with Baby Kaos if I wanna.
I'm done with the travel. Before Baby Kaos was born, I was traveling far and wide and often, but that's a blog for another day. And now, I have this overwhelming urge to not leave my baby.
No thanks. I'm finished. I'm done with the rock-star job.
I like to think of it as having a career change: I'm going to be a full-time Early Childhood Developmental Specialist, with a sample size of one.
Friday, May 18, 2007
Comment of the Day, May 18, 2007
Baby Kaos and I went to a new bookstore today. A new used bookstore. I'm not down with paying new prices for books.
We don't get over to the other side of town much, and that's where the bookstore is. We were on our way back from shopping at the secondhand baby clothes store. It's my new favorite store, but that's a different blog.
So, we go in to the used bookstore, and we're the only customers. No biggie.
The owner, who is an older woman, greeted us and asked if she could help us. I told her we were looking for children's books.
“Well,” she said, “I have some here, but he's a little young for those.”
She was pointing to “The Cat In The Hat”.
“And we have some over here, too,” she said.
“Baby Kaos,” I said, “Look! It's 'The Cat In The Hat'! You know this book!”
In other words, beeyatch, don't tell me my kid's too young for “The Cat In The Hat” because my son is a genius because we read to him everyday.
So we start looking at the books. And the owner starts talking. She asked if she could hold Baby Kaos, “After all,” she said, “I'm a grandma. You know grandmas when you see them, don't you Baby?”
I said, “Well, he's not had much lunch and he's pretty tired, so I don't think he's the best company right now.”
And she kinda disregarded what I said and did that thing that people do with their hands when they're getting ready to hold a baby—the “clap, clap, come 'ere” maneuver. You're done it. You know it.
Fortunately, Baby Kaos leaned his head into my shoulder. He's a great performer. But, she still didn't get the clue that he wasn't interested in her.
She kept talking. I learned all about that she's the mom of twins and that she has two granddaughters that live in California and that the granddaughters want her to move down to California but that she can't afford to live there and that they don't live in a great neighborhood and houses are sill $600,000.
“Do you mind if we look around?” I asked. I'm trying to make us scarce and be polite.
We start to walk away. Just walking around looking at books is really the entire reason I wanted to go in there anyway.
We're about 2/3 of the way through the store and I hear her say, “Are you a Christian?”
Sweet Jesus. You coulda knocked me over with a feather.
“No,” I said.
She said, “Well, if you were, I was going to tell you that we have a lot of Christian books for children.”
I said, “Thanks. We have lots of Christian friends, so we'll be sure to tell them.”
And we left shortly thereafter. I was a bit concerned that she was going to baptize Baby Kaos.
When Baby Kaos and I got out to the truck, I said to him, “If that dumb beeyatch would've looked at our noses, she would've known that we're a bunch of Jews!”
We don't get over to the other side of town much, and that's where the bookstore is. We were on our way back from shopping at the secondhand baby clothes store. It's my new favorite store, but that's a different blog.
So, we go in to the used bookstore, and we're the only customers. No biggie.
The owner, who is an older woman, greeted us and asked if she could help us. I told her we were looking for children's books.
“Well,” she said, “I have some here, but he's a little young for those.”
She was pointing to “The Cat In The Hat”.
“And we have some over here, too,” she said.
“Baby Kaos,” I said, “Look! It's 'The Cat In The Hat'! You know this book!”
In other words, beeyatch, don't tell me my kid's too young for “The Cat In The Hat” because my son is a genius because we read to him everyday.
So we start looking at the books. And the owner starts talking. She asked if she could hold Baby Kaos, “After all,” she said, “I'm a grandma. You know grandmas when you see them, don't you Baby?”
I said, “Well, he's not had much lunch and he's pretty tired, so I don't think he's the best company right now.”
And she kinda disregarded what I said and did that thing that people do with their hands when they're getting ready to hold a baby—the “clap, clap, come 'ere” maneuver. You're done it. You know it.
Fortunately, Baby Kaos leaned his head into my shoulder. He's a great performer. But, she still didn't get the clue that he wasn't interested in her.
She kept talking. I learned all about that she's the mom of twins and that she has two granddaughters that live in California and that the granddaughters want her to move down to California but that she can't afford to live there and that they don't live in a great neighborhood and houses are sill $600,000.
“Do you mind if we look around?” I asked. I'm trying to make us scarce and be polite.
We start to walk away. Just walking around looking at books is really the entire reason I wanted to go in there anyway.
We're about 2/3 of the way through the store and I hear her say, “Are you a Christian?”
Sweet Jesus. You coulda knocked me over with a feather.
“No,” I said.
She said, “Well, if you were, I was going to tell you that we have a lot of Christian books for children.”
I said, “Thanks. We have lots of Christian friends, so we'll be sure to tell them.”
And we left shortly thereafter. I was a bit concerned that she was going to baptize Baby Kaos.
When Baby Kaos and I got out to the truck, I said to him, “If that dumb beeyatch would've looked at our noses, she would've known that we're a bunch of Jews!”
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