Saturday, July 30, 2011

A Tale of Two Grandmas

My People....My Flock...My Blog-o-sphere...I can hardly believe what happened to me over the past two weeks.  BOTH of my Grandmas came to visit me.  GrandmaS (with an "s").  PLURAL, as in TWO.   I have two Grandmas!   Do you know what this means, folks?

I'm sure you do.  They don't make shirts with the phrase, "If Mom says, NO.  Ask Grandma." stiched into the chest, for nothing.

Grandmas serve a unique purpose in the life of a 13/14 month old.  They exist to give me their undivided attention.  They exist to spoil me.  And, since they obviously go out of their way to do so, it's only polite that  I oblige them by eating up every second of it.  I'M HOOKED ON MY GRANDMAS.

Grandmom Lorraine visited first - I refer to her as "Grandmom".  She's so bubbly and fun.  I was so sick when she was visiting that I had to have breathing treatments.  She and Mom would sing Christmas carols to me to keep me entertained.  And let me tell you, while the two of them couldn't carry a tune in a bucket, I appreciated that they distracted me from the giant mask on my face and the medicine I was breathing into my lungs.  When I was feeling better, Grandma, Mom and Dad took me to get my hair cut.  I was nervous about wearing spikes on my head, but Grandmom reassured me by saying how, "sharp" I look.  I especially liked the time that Grandmom and I spent one on one.  My parents decided that they needed to re-live their youth and went to see a U2 concert. Grandma and I spent the night together, having dinner, playing and watching TV.  It was so perfect, Mom and Dad really don't know what they missed out on.  Although, they did seem to enjoy their music.  Mom couldn't stop "singing" (horribly) the following lyric, "You're the real thing.  Yeah, the real thing.   You're the real thing, even better than the real thing".  Of course, this lyric makes no sense to me, at all.  What happened to the classics like, "ROW ROW ROW your boat"?  I could listen to that for hours and I'm pretty sure that Grandma could, too (especially if I was singing it).
Me & My Grandmom...Pardon my Snots....

The next weekend, my Bubby came to visit.  That's what I call my Daddy's Mom.  Apparently, "Bubby" means Grandma in another language...I think it may be Chinese...but I'm not sure.
Bubby is my artsy Grandma.  We would sit together in the mornings and play with crayons.  I don't necessarily draw...I just like to vigorously dump all of my crayons out on the table and then put each back in the box, POINT DOWN.  I could do this for hours and she'd never tire of it.  Bubby is so patient with me.  Mom and Dad decided to shop for new cell phones which took FOREVER and Bubby just wheeled me around the store until I dozed off into dreamland. Bubby is always concerned that I didn't eat enough, so during her stay I got to try new foods, like shrimp!  Again, my parents, "needed a break", so they went out boozin' with Tommy & Ray's folks.  Bubby and I spent Saturday night chillin' at home, playing, "Where's Mercer?".  It's a really fun game. I never actually go anywhere, but she thinks I disappear and then reappear, so I just play along.  I really enjoyed making her laugh with all of my crazy toddler antics.

Brunching with Bubby

I've been coming down off of the Grandma High, over this past week and I think I'm back to my old self again.  But, I do miss BOTH of them, so very much.  Like I said before, I am one lucky man.  I have TWO fun, beautiful ladies who call me their Grandson.



Monday, July 11, 2011

Little Boy Blue....

We had friends for supper on Saturday night.  And since it was scheduled as a late dinner, Mercer was too sleepy to stay up to even greet them.  He missed out on the awesome salsas, the delicious Caribbean chicken and the fact that his mother finally cooked rice, real rice, not instant rice, correctly!  (yea, me). He missed the mango margaritas and the bottle of Napa wine that we shared.  He missed hours of laughing so hard my head hurt about things he wouldn’t really understand, anyway. 

But, what I think he truly missed out on was dessert.  Our guest made a homemade blueberry pie with  homemade vanilla ice cream.  It was perfect.  Blueberries at their ripest, perfectly sweetened and spiced enveloped in a rich buttery crust served warm and topped off with icy cold vanilla goodness that just melted into the confection.  Blueberry.  Pie.  Utopia.

Because our friends are awesome, they insisted we keep the leftovers. 

Which means Mercer lucked out and got to partake in them on Sunday.  As you can see, he wasn’t quite as into it as we were.  But that’s fine with us, because we get to eat what he doesn’t.  This can be kinda gross when it’s cold hot dog pieces…but when it comes to blueberry pie – we hit the jackpot!  NOM NOM NOM NOM NOM.

Besides, what does he know from good food, yet?  He thinks Animal Crackers are delicious…
I'm not sure about this....

Wait..ya know...this isn't bad...

What?  I'm eating it.

This looks like a crime scene photo....

Big thanks to N.T. for a helluva summer dessert – Bravo girl!

And as an aside, look who enjoys "Spaghettio's" as much as Little Aunt Drea did...

Monday, July 4, 2011

Mercer Update - July 2011

This post is for those who love pictures of babies and toddlers, in particular, my baby.   Those who read this blog to commiserate in the sheer glory of my sarcastic rants, I'm sure I'll be back to writing those sooner rather than later.  To all my readers - Thank you and Namaste.

The other day we realized that, developmentally, Mercer has outgrown a lot of his baby toys.  It is time for us to store those away to be brought out one day in the future for the second Seidbaby or a Yard Sale.    For one final hoorah, Mercer wanted to jump is his Jumper.  The two shots below were taken in that very jumper about 11 months apart.  The first one was taken his very first timing hanging out in there and the second was taken today - July 4th.  Look at that growth!  And to think - all I did was feed him for 11 months - he must be part weed!

Too little to even hold himself up in it

Almost too big for the seat
In other news - the boy is ON THE MOVE.  He's walking more than he is crawling now.  And he's falling (both on purpose, like a little stunt man and accidentally, like a drunk) 100 times a day.  I tried to capture his progress on video - it's not great - but you get the point.  I apologize in advance for the background noises..

He's talking a bit more, too.  He's chanting, "DA DA".  And he can say "Ut oh" (which sounds like "a$$-hole" ) "Bubbles" "Bottle" and "Baby".  He can also sign (as in sign language) "More" and "All Done".  I love seeing how excited he gets when he is instantly gratified.  He says, "Bubbles" and we oblige.  He gets a huge smile on his face and claps.  We are his entertianment; his dancing monkey and he loves calling the shots.

Finally, he learned how to say "cheese" when the camera is pointed at him.  He continues to enjoy hamming it up.  And while I know he doesn't have my big hazel green eyes, I also know that his giant smile and love of the camera is all due to moi (me). 


Hams - Like Mother Like Son

So this guy showed up...

And I trained him to blow bubbles on command.
Adults are so easily manipulted by my cuteness.
 - Mercer
Fr-Uncle Melvis blowing "tiny bubbles"

Friday, July 1, 2011

We're Yuppees? I think not.

Before we had Mercer, we were "double income no kids," commonly referred to as DINKS.  This is a moniker affectionately generated by those who had already decided to spawn.  It's usually used as a back-handed compliment or an accusation because those using it were jealous of our awesome independence and lack of dealing with another human's shit on a daily basis.
For example, we've heard, "But you wouldn't know anything about (explosive infant diarrhea) because you're DINKS".
We thought we had shaken the whole DINK persona after we had the boy.
Apparently, we've earned a new name - Yuppy Parents.  This grandiose title was earned because we did the following:

1.  Named our child with an unusual name.  Note to future parents out there - you will never win the name battle - someone will always hate it.  May that person have enough sense to keep that to themselves - instead of blurting out their opinion and ruining your goddamn day.

2.  Both decided to keep our careers.  Cardinal SIN.  I'm less of a woman and a mother because I don't stay at home.  I think this surprises no one.

3.  Dress our kids with name brands.  Yes, I like brand names, but interestingly, I'm not above Walmart - in fact, I'm a regular there - at the store - not on the site.  Do I occasionally spike my son's hair into a faux-hawk and pop his collar?
Hell yea!  I'm instilling STYLE.  I could be tying a tourniquet around my arm and showing him how to shoot heroin.  I'd probably be chastised less, especially in our town.

4.  Vacation.  Yes, Mark and I vacation WITHOUT our son.  Believe me, he needs a break from us - we're no prize to live with.

5.  Contemplate keeping him an only child.  You'd think we were sending him to Sibera for life.  The faces people make when you say, "Only Child" - as if you've decided to purposely raise the next Charles Manson.  I remember discussing this with one person and I got a very disappointed, "you really don't know what you're talking about" look and then they said, "The Best Gift I ever gave my children was each other".
VOMIT.  No one in life guarantees that siblings grow up to be friends...and if that's why you're adding to your brood - you're delusional and most likely your kids will be plotting to overthrow you by the time they're 5.

6.  We exercise Freedom of Religion.  As in, we are free of religion.
There's a massive prayer call to save Mercer's soul; mine is already too far gone.

So, we live with the Yuppy label.  I drink my Starbucks and refuse to drive a minivan for fear of losing my "edge".  And everything was hunky-dory...
Until we met actual REAL Yuppies.  And we quickly realized that we were pretending all along.

Mark and I were having lunch out in one of the posher suburbs of the great midwest when a family of 3 walks in.  Mom's blond with big giant fake boobies and skin a beautiful shade of dark orange... oh I  mean, brown.  Dad had his graying hair gelled into the perfect portrayal of "organized chaos", his Prada shades never come off, even INSIDE the restaurant (he wasn't blind, don't even think about going there).  And then, there was their "legacy".  Outfitted in Abercrombie from head to toe, head buried in an IPAD, was their 8 year old son.  The kid never looks up from his computer.  He doesn't even order for himself.  His parents fret about the kids menu...and he looks up only to tell them, "PB&J".  Then goes right back to his gaming.   

They sit next to us and don't engage in conversation with their son at all.   Not about school,
Not about sports, Not about TV...nothing.  His parents go on about their adult conversations; their son's head still buried in his game .  Their order comes.  It's here when their son becomes alive as he realizes that the peanut butter is chunky and not smooth.  And then all hell breaks loose.  He whines and complains, and his parents immediately order something else.  The kid never said thank you.  Hemoped and ate a few bites of the grilled cheese and went back to his computer.

Mark is watching this in horror.  I'm listening to it in disbelief.
After they left, Mark and I looked at each other and then down at our son who was eating his 5th pickle while smiling, and then back at each other and almost simultaneously said, "That can never be us".

So, Future Mercer - hear me now...there are certain things that I, as your mother, have to teach you in life.  Disappointment & Table manners are high on my list.  And these are the rules we'll be living by:

1.  You will not be playing on whatever f*cking technology is current while we're dining.  I don't care if we're at McDonalds...You engage in pointless conversation while shoving food into your mouth and then you ask to be excused.  That's how this family rolls.  You'll thank me for teaching you small talk when you're on a date in 16 years.

2. If you order it, you're eating it.  Or you're going home and having a can of soup.  It's called disappointment.  Life's full of it.  If Chunky peanut butter instead of smooth is the biggest of your problems, you better be thanking great Spaghetti Monster in the Sky for such a blessed life.

3.  You have to engage with the greater world.  We're going to make you order your own food and say thank you.  Engaging with humanity connects us as people.  Playing on your Ipad doesn't.

4.  By all means, please call us on it if you're seeing signs of our mid-life crisis.  Your father sporting a toupee or your mother self-tanning are good indicators that things would be heading South.

5.  We love you.  We want you to grow up to be a funny, respectful and loving man.  We don't plan on raising a d-bag.  We will always be your parents and it's our job to put you back on track when you veer off.
You're welcome.

So, we're not yuppies and I still like my Starbucks.  But ya know, that Honda Odyssey looks like a pretty sweet ride.....