Bea is already downstairs when Owen wakes up. Al and I greet him with excited "Happy Birthday! You're EIGHT!!" and all that proud parent crap. We get him dressed in a nice new outfit and tell him how handsome and grown up he looks. He's bursting with special birthday goodness as he descends the stairs.
He's met at the bottom by Bea, who looks him up and down and tells him;
"You don't look very good."
Thank goodness Owen barely hears any words coming out of Bea's mouth, not to mention the unspoken;
"Happy fucking birthday miracle boy. I don't see what is so fucking great about you. You talk funny, you turn the TV up too loud and you have a big stupid bald spot on the back of your head."
I can't wait til they're teenagers.
Yesterday morning Bea bumbles downstairs after Owen has already left for school.
"He's gone to school."
"But I have to ask him something!! Why he stole my dream last night! He came in with scissors and scissored my dream! He scissored it all up!!"
I'm so fucked when they're teenagers.
Bea telling me about her newest imaginary friend, who is a wolf, a Deaf one of course; holding a little plastic shoe, trying to tie a piece of string to it.
"I have Wolfie's shoe here. It is a very special shoe. I need to put a strap on it. Wolf's need shoes with straps on their shoes. They're called Strap-ons."
Can't wait to tell her that one when she's a teenager.
A few of you have expressed your distaste of the dead bird picture for my Twitter. Over there ------>
Yeah. I suck at Twitter. I've tried, and I just don't get it.
Once in a while I stumble on a good blog through it, and some cool people have found me through it. So I'm going to keep it.
And am also keeping the dead bird.
Sherri told me she takes a strong disliking to blue jays, so that one is for her.
If there is a particular bird that you would like to see dead on my sidebar, let me know. I'll see what I can do.
With Easter coming up, I am thinking that a cute little dead chicken may be in order.
When Owen was little, I had quite the CD collection for our hours spent in the car; therapy, doctor and hospital appointments, driving him to and from school for three years:
Raffi, Wiggles, Jerry Garcia. The usual kiddie fare.
Then I met my boyfriend and we started going steady. Owen actually liked it. Would request certain songs even, played insanely loud even. Yay me.
Jason and I are on a break at the moment, and the kids are getting to know Mommy's latest crush;
Bea, sitting at the kitchen table painting and talking quietly to whatever invisible friend had joined her that day. She starts humming and then?
"Man is a giddy thing. Oh man is a giddy thing."
She's gonna have kick ass taste in music.
And while we're on the subject of my newest boyfriend, I'd like to ask Sherri to take a gander at that schnozz. Cause if you're a fan o' the schnozz like we are, this one is a treat.
We'll be ignoring the fact that he's only 24 ok?
That is a gorgeous schnozz no?
Tagged me for yet another meme, just to piss me off. Again.
I'm to ask my child to draw a picture of me and...I don't fucking know. I stopped paying attention.
Owen is always drawing pictures. Of all of us. And he's getting pretty good. Well. I'm the Mommy, so I'm bound by natural law to think everything he does is fucking genius.
I'll let you be the judge:
I know right? Kid's got mad skills!
Then I asked him to draw Daddy's girlfriend Jessica;
Again. Spot on.
I guess he is a fucking genius.