ihaveanopinionidliketoshare

thoughts on life, parenting, news, and crazy shit

Month: January, 2014

Hooked On Phonics Didn’t Work For Us, And The Results Were Awesome

Remember when the Destroyer never used to talk?  And we were so worried that maybe she was “touched” in some way?  Or just pretty?  ( Which really wouldn’t be sooo bad, because pretty goes a long way for a long time, right?)

You ALL said “just wait until she does….she’ll start , and then she’ll never shut up and you’ll wish you could go back.”

Well, you are all half right.

We didn’t get Hooked on Phonics or any bullshit. We went to see a speech therapist for about half a minute to get a diagnosis of “stubborn”.  And then….

She started talking all of a sudden.  She went from pretty much nothing to full on sentences in about a week.  NO joking.  She also never shuts up.  The part where you were wrong is where I wish she wasn’t talking, because between the absolute bullshit stories that she makes up and the words she tries to say that come out fucked up, well I’m telling you.

It’s better than smoking a joint and watching fat people trying to waddle walk on ice.

So she tells a few lies here and there.  Mostly because she wants me to give her a bandaid.  I’m not sure if she’s a mini hypochondriac or if she wants to be a doctor (please,please!) or if she just thinks bandaids are super fucking cool, but she will do almost anything for a bandaid.

“Gago’s (our neighbour) dee (bird) ate my toe.”

First of all, you’re lying.  Your toe is still fucking attached to your foot.  Second, you haven’t been to Gago’s in a week. Third, you’re not bleeding.

“Daddy hit me in the eye and I cried.”

First of all, you’re fucking lying again.  Second, there is no blood, not even a bruise.  Third, you probably deserved it because toddlers are little shits sometimes ( this is a joke,crazy parenting freak out there, relax) and fourth, you can’t put a bandaid on your eye anyway. try something else.

If these yarns don’t work, she’ll eventually give up and pitch a huge fit until you attach a bandaid somewhere.  See where the talking is better?

But my absolute favourite, is that she has trouble with the following letter combination:  UCK

Great, you must be thinking.  She will have trouble saying “fuck”.  And for any child living in this house, that is a real and present danger.

But Bitches, it’s so much better than that.

Because this is what happens:

Which duck is that? ( blue duck)   “blue cock”

Did you play with Buddy’s dump truck today?

“yeah.  I played with Buddy’s dumb cock.”

Is there a dump truck outside?

Calling down to the basement: “Yeah!  Daddy your dumb cock is outside!”

Daddy:  “Did she just call me a dumb fuck?”

Possibly.  I’m not sure which is funnier.  But I love the shit out of having kids right now.

So no, Bitches.  I don’t want her to shut up.  Because she is almost as funny as me.

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Anti-Vaccination Disorder Fact Sheet

http://www.fansshare.com Meet our resident "expert".

http://www.fansshare.com
Meet our resident “expert”.

Anti-Vaccination Disorder:

I have spent hours and hours researching the topic of the dangers of not vaccinating your children.  It turns out that besides the risk of  allowing once eradicated diseases to reappear, besides the risk of serious illness or death to occur in your child or in mine,  besides the problem with a herd immunity that no longer protects the already seriously ill or immunocompromised people out there who cannot receive vaccinations…

Besides all of that, my research has “proven” that their is another unexpected danger lurking for the parents who don’t vaccinate their children.

Stupidity.

It’s seems to be unclear at the moment,( pending further investigation), whether or not the stupidity is caused by ignorance, fear-mongering, Jenny McCarthy, Wakefield’s bogus study, or the truth found on the internet.  However, the statistics posted on several health related websites that show how immunizations have protected us against these childhood diseases suggest that the new epidemic of stupidity is widespread and growing at an alarming rate.

My research suggests that a combination of these factors, as well as a link to a genetic predisposition for idiocy could be responsible for the idea that vaccinations are not necessary and detrimental to our health.

Symptoms include:

Believing everything you read on the internet, no matter the author.

Trusting sensationalized, ratings hungry news networks to deliver unbiased information.

Assuming that there is a grand conspiracy in the world wishing that we raise a generation of sick or dependant children.

Assuming that your internet research is worth more than a medical professional’s educated opinion.

Assuming that your paediatrician or family doctor is in cahoots with big Pharma companies, because there’s obviously something in it for them to vaccinate and ruin your child.

Risking the lives of other people’s children because your truth has to be heard.

Taking bits of of misinformation from various “sources” and preaching it to other parents.

Allowing your own child to suffer through preventable diseases.

Saying the words “Jenny McCarthy” without rolling your eyes.

Assuming that if a medical treatment/drug/procedure has side effects, it is obviously no good.

Trying to convince other reasonable people to be un-reasonable.

Treatment:

It is possible that symptoms can be alleviated by limiting research to peer revised medical journals and other scholarly articles.  Frank conversations with your primary care physician and, if necessary, a follow up to a specialist in infectious disease may be useful.

Development of a stupidity vaccine seems unlikely, and also useless, since the irrational fear of vaccines seems to be a precursor to the disorder.

Prognosis:

People with the stupidity disorder are likely to suffer chronically.  Although intense head shaking a face slapping have been traditional methods of getting them to snap out of it and begin a course of treatment, full recovery is unlikely.  Risk factors such as the Internet continue to be available and it’s widespread use leads to full blown disease.

Hold On

I haven’t been blogging so much these days, Bitches.  It’s not for lack of desire, it’s for lack of arms.  As in, I only have two and since I also seem to have two children, well, you know.

There have been a few things on my mind recently.  And one so very sad story that I can’t stop thinking about.  I’m not sure it’s appropriate to tell someone else’s story, so I won’t, really.  Let’s just say that someone else’s loss has changed the way I look at my family.  Especially my tiny monsters.  Especially them.

The second you become a parent, you immediately know what it is like to truly love someone else.  I’m not talking about butterflies in the stomach, can’t wait for him to call, put on your party dress love.  I’m talking about taking a bullet, lay down your life, would sacrifice anything and anyone else to keep them safe love.  The kind where even the thought of spending one day on Earth without them is enough to make you feel sick to your stomach.

The second you become a parent, all those stories in the news about a child dying from cancer or in an accident hit you so hard, because it makes you imagine something you never want to think about.  You can immediately empathize with the strangers on the screen.  Parenthood seems to bond people together because you have a common cause, I guess.

I spend a lot of time making jokes about the weird things that my kids do.  Some folks are taken aback at the things I say.  That’s how I deal.  I make jokes in difficult situations because I figure if we’re still laughing, we’re not sinking, right?

But this.  I can’t.  Not ever.

All I can do is remember to love every single tantrum.  Every freak out and every spilled cup of milk.  Every single explosive shit up the back diaper and sleepless night. I love the giant boogers and the screaming when I try to brush her hair. Every morning that I spend trying to tidy the kitchen from the disaster of the day before.  The nights I spend driving my Buddy around just trying to help him sleep.

I can do less work and play with my children.  I will stop resenting the interruptions when I’m on the phone or trying to practice and be thankful that I can choose to spend that moment putting a train set together.  I will remember how it takes 30 minutes to get them both dressed in the winter for 10 minutes outside before our balls freeze off.  I will stop apologizing when I say no to more work, because I’m not sorry, nor should I be.

I will love them every second of every minute of every day even when I am crazy from exhaustion and my last nerve is being danced on.

Because you just never, ever know.

Hold on to your babies tight.  Make them know they are loved.  Don’t worry about tomorrow, just cherish today.

AfterOtis

Written by Natalie Oldham

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