Hope for the future, Doughnut Edition

Found on Buzzfeed. I saw the image first with no context and immediately from the handwriting and tone thought "sixth grader." Turns out it's (reportedly) a 12-year-old. Called it! Obviously this kid has been at the Diary of a Wimpy Kid, but even if he/she hasn't (no guarantee it's a boy - kids' handwriting is all the same for a while, then the girls decide they want to make their letters rounder - it's all an affectation, I know it was for me) that's still the perfect age for comedy... they still think boogers and poo are funny, but they've just grasped irony and sarcasm and by god they're going to run with it. And 6th graders are way sharper than people think they are (see: Tavi Gevinson).

It is my solemn duty to make sure Seamus turns out this awesome.

Blog name change

They fuck you up, your mom and dad. 
They may not mean to, but they do. 
They fill you with the faults they had
And add some extra, just for you. 


- from "This Be the Verse," Philip Larkin

I figured since this is now a full-blown mommyblog, I might as well name it as such. Also I might tell some people I actually have a blog.

That's a cute outfit - FOR ME TO POOP ON!

I just made a Triumph the Insult Comic Dog reference. Does that date me? I don't care.

Anyway: excrement. The Blowout Diaper is a thrice-weekly occurrence. When he gives me this particular massive toothless grin, I know he's just consigned me to five minutes elbow-deep in poo and another load of laundry. But as long as he's happy, I'm good.

I've found out why new parents talk so much about poop. First of all, when you are surrounded by it all day, you can go one of two ways - you can cringe and gag and be disgusted, or you can embrace the hilarity, because as any 12-year-old or Hollywood comedy producer can tell you, poop is funny. Second: the quality and amount of your child's poop is one indicator of their health. Little babies are basically giant heads with digestive systems, and if the system's not working right you're going to get something like the first six weeks of Seamus' gassy, slightly constipated existence. His nickname is now "Screamy McShriek."

But at six weeks, it's like someone flipped the "human being on" switch. First he started focusing his eyes on things, then it was eye contact, then I could occasionally jolly him out of a crying jag by waving a brightly-colored jingling dangly toy in front of his face. (In the vein of "Dog Toy or Sex Toy," I have a new game called "Baby Toy or Cat Toy.") Now he smiles and squeals and bats at toys and seems to enjoy it when I read him Harry Potter, complete with attempted English and Scottish accents. When I do a raspberry at him he gasps in surprise, then gives me this huge silly grin, in the vein of the best video on the Internet but not quite as awesome (yet). He still cries more than most babies, I think, but now that he has facial expressions he's getting easier to decipher. My son has facial expressions! Holy crap, I have a son!

This is still sinking in.

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The first 3 weeks of maternity leave, I spent alternately freaking the fuck out and playing Mass Effect while Seamus slept - and he slept a lot, as newborns do. I finished it (and need to post about it, although my thoughts on the much-maligned ending don't really vary from most people's, i.e., what is this I don't even.) Then Seamus decided to quit napping for more than a half hour at a time because he's perverse like that, and from then on gaming was out - I always needed at least one hand free to hold/feed/amuse the baby, and often I have to pace around holding the kid to calm him down, so I switched to TV. Yeah, the vast majority of it is age-inappropriate, but a) he does not yet speak English or recognize objects and all he cares about right now is sound and color and motion, and b) the first thing he ever saw was me blowing holes in people's chests with a shotgun in Mass Effect, so the damage has already been done.

Things I have watched over the last month and change: