55 Flash non-Fiction Friday: Pictures of You

Looking at the picture at the end of the book it didn’t fit the theme, or did it? Is it a clue or am I wishing too much? Am I putting pieces together that just don’t belong? Should I face the facts as presented or keep poking around until I reach a more favorable answer?

tree face

Picture taken 7/25/2011 by a friend at my grandmother's cabin in Alaska

55 Flash Fiction Friday

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Baby Squeezins: Diaper of the Month

I know I had promised a series of prune diapers for this month, but constipation was again the continuing theme. I gave him baby foods with the most fiber and tried to get him to drink water from a bottle or sippy cup, but the first didn’t do anything and he has yet to take to the second. It wasn’t until I made a homemade baby cereal with barley that the play dough poop loosened up. Taken on the 24th of August with my Nikon D60 for your high-resolution pleasure, I now present to you the loosened barley sludge Baby Squeezins, the Diaper of the Month.

barley sludge baby squeezins

Picture taken 8/24/2011 Barley Sludge Baby Squeezins

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Yo Adrian!

Sophia was about eighteen months old when she had her first bloody nose. It wasn’t a gusher but there were drops of blood. She had been climbing the metal ladder rungs on the playground. She lost her footing and hit her nose on the way down.

Last night Sophia got her first black eye. She was jumping up the stairs like a giant frog. She must have hit her cheekbone on the edge of a stair while jumping up, I couldn’t really tell from my vantage point at the top of the stairs. It stunned her so much she went to lean back on her butt. Forgetting that she was on the stairs she then rolled down four steps.

Yo Adrian!

Picture taken 8/27/2011 Sophia's first shiner.

And she was just healing from her last wound too. Three weeks ago, we were at a bus stop. She ran to the bench, which was backless and slipped right off of it. She wedged herself between the bench and the glass wall of the bus stop shelter. Her back slid down the glass wall. I’m not sure if she hit the metal framing on the bottom with her back or not, but either way she has serious road rash on her back. It’s still pink in that spot, but the scabbing is all gone.

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55 Flash non-Fiction Friday: Missing Daddy

“Can my daddy be here?” She asked repeatedly during our two-week trip to Alaska.

playing with dominos

Photo taken 7/24/2011 by a friend at my grandmother's cabin in Alaksa


The first day back daddy stayed home but on the second day, it was back to work.

“Where is my daddy?”

When he came home, Sophia ran to give him a big hug. She said, “Look my friend Daddy is home!”.

55 Flash Fiction Friday

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Baby Squeezins: Diaper of the Month

Traveling put a kink in my blogging availability, but I refuse to let anyone down. There will be a diaper of the month. The Baby Squeezins shall push on. I didn’t feel like carrying oodles of electronics through airport security so I only brought the essential laptop and relied on my travel companion to be suckered into taking pictures of baby poop. She was actually the one that changed this particular diaper and found this tiny surprise wedge. She describes the consistency of this one as fudge-like. I don’t know what sort of expired fudge she eats but I think it looks more like play dough. The boy has been rather constipated for a while. I’ve tried adding prunes to the diet, but that doesn’t seem to be enough. Taken on the 28th of July with my friend’s Canon 60D for your high-resolution pleasure, I now present to you the moldable play dough Baby Squeezins, the Diaper of the Month.

play dough squeezins

Picture taken 7/28/2011 with my friend’s Canon 60D. The moldable play dough Baby Squeezins.

This poop best viewed by August 31, 2011.

Please stay tuned for next months featured diapers, the prune collection.

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Entitled Costco Lady

Today, for those people who have a life beyond caring for their own children, was the first day this month’s Costco coupons can be used. The first day and last day of the coupons are always crazy days, and some locations are just generally worse than others. I had to go to a different Costco from my usual today. I didn’t like having to go to a different one and entitled lady didn’t help.

I drove up the parking isle in search of a spot. I was heading in the direction of the entrance and my passenger pointed out a spot up front in the isle to my left. I turned and there was a van stopped in what would be my lane if it were a road, so after the oncoming car passed I went around the van. I took a left to enter the isle and then began to turn right to enter the newly vacated first parking spot.

A woman ran up past the right side of the car and jumped into the spot. She waved her arms smiling and indicated that she wanted the spot into which I had already began to turn. I shook my head and kept moving forward. Now upset, she shouted that she needed the spot for her disabled father right behind me. I glared with incredulous anger. Are you fucking kidding me? If you need a special spot, park in the ones labeled as such. It’s called handicapped parking. They’re all over the place and they’re usually empty.

I kept moving forward. I’m in a car. She relented and moved aside, but stood by my door. My passenger hung her handicap tag on the mirror of my car. She didn’t need to as I was in regular parking, but she thought it would help make the self-important woman leave. I got out of the car ready to be yelled at by the crazy lady. “I need this spot for my disabled father!” The woman yelled at me as I watched a car three stalls down back out. Bitch, you’re at warehouse store but your father can’t walk just three more car stalls?

I looked her straight in the eye and snapped back with clenched fists and furled eyebrows, “It’s first-come first-serve lady!” She backed away still angry and grumbled something about, “It’s people like you…this society…blah blah.”

I wish I had the presence of mind to answer back, “Yes it is, but it’s still my parking spot.” I went around the car to retrieve my infant son and saw that he was sleeping. My passenger didn’t want to go near the psycho lady who was with her father and waiting at the Costco entrance. I had to go to the bathroom so I left my friend and child at the car. I passed the lady on the way in and again on the way back out.

My friend was hungry so the three of us went to the Costco food line and saw that Miss Spit-fire was trying to wrangle up a motorized Costco cart for her disabled father. Her father, who not only walked up to the entrance from his further-than-mine parking spot but had been standing at the entrance since I passed him on my way to the bathroom.

We got our food and they got their cart and finally went in. About the same time we finished our food the entitled lady and her father both walked out of the Costco and to their vehicle. He walked. On his own. My friend and speculated that this lady doesn’t visit her father very often, feels guilty about it, and is over compensating. Sanctimonious bitch.

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Fourth of July Frog

After our camping weekend, both kids were tired. I had to wake them both in order to get on with our Fourth of July celebrations. All I had to do was ask, “Sophia do you want pancakes?” And her eyes just popped right open. I had to make sure she understood that we wouldn’t be eating the pancakes at home though. Our newly adopted tradition began with a pancake breakfast in the park hosted by the fire department. We went last year for the first time and had to wait an hour after we had finished eating before Sophia begin eating hers. Sophia did much better with it this year. She was leery of the crowds of people but she ate her pancakes with gusto and finished at the same time we did.

There was a live auction after breakfast. We waited around for that because they had a desk that I wanted. Wouldn’t you just know it, the desk was the one item on the block that everyone else was also eyeing? Most everything was going for the opening bid or only had one other bidder. The desk had about five people. The price went up so quickly that I wound up not making a bid at all. It’s back to craigslist for me. I’ve been drooling over some antiques for a while.

We went home for a while to shoot off the six dollars of kiddy firecrackers I purchased. I’m such a big spender.

Typically my engineer is absurdly cautious of new or different activities and plans his actions to such a detailed degree that all the whimsy of such things as possibly blowing one’s self up with firecrackers is completely removed. To-do lists, spreadsheets, rules and regulations – they more than outline his life, so it really surprised me the number of times I had to yell at him to, “TAKE THE MATCHES WITH YOU AFTER YOU LIGHT THE FIRECRACKER!”

But that’s not as bad as the one time that he lit the firecracker next to the pile of unlit, as in the-never-been-fired, firecrackers. Note to self, if I buy firecrackers next year I need to get those burn sticks for the safety of the grown up engineer. Luckily all the firecrackers I bought were the craptastically lame-ass kiddy kind. The kind of lame fireworks that only people truly talented could use to blow themselves up. Like the talented engineer who gives himself a splinter with a potato. That sort of Nerf-talent.

Sophia enjoyed the firecrackers even though a couple of times she said, “That too loud for my ears”. Her favorites were the snaps, the firecrackers that you just through on the pavement and they, well they snap. Those were the only ones that I allowed her to handle.

I thought about buying sparklers, but I didn’t. She probably would have been ok with them, but I’m a total wuss when it comes to my child and fire. Maybe next year. You know, when she has a little brother running around wanting to do all the same things his big sister can. That’s a grand idea! Yeah I think I just talked myself out of buying them, again.

The next event of the day was the parade. It took a lot longer than I thought it would for such a small town. At first Sophia didn’t see what the big deal was about going to the parade and didn’t want to get out of her stroller, but then the floats and tractors started coming by and we pointed out that candy was being thrown…she perked up immediately. Kurt went with her closer to the curb of the street and the child caught on to the finding and picking up of candy quickly. After the parade as we were walking up to the car I asked her, “What did you like the most about the parade?” There was no hesitation in her answer, “CANDY!” She made a better candy haul at the parade than she did for Halloween, but that’s not saying much since she never did get out of her stroller for trick-or-treating last year.

It was back to the pancake park for another event, which if they don’t go back to the original format, we won’t be participating in again. The money goes to good things of course, but part of it is the fun of watching a bazillion rubber ducks float down the river. It’s called the Duck Dash. The first ducks to make it to the boom win prizes, but that’s not how it was done this year. Nope, this year, the first year we actually went to see it, they had two grown men dressed as ducks tossing rubber ducks into a net. One man tossed a few ducks and the other caught them in a net. The netted ducks were the winners. It was as lame as it sounds. Maybe even worse.
A quick trip to McDonald’s for dinner gave us the first ever doll that Sophia named herself. “What’s her name?” Kurt asks.

“Frog.”

I’ve asked her again a few times since then and each time she tells me the doll’s name is “Frog”.

Frog

The Fourth of July finally was of course the fireworks display. Sophia was so tired from our camping weekend that half way through the display she was asking to go to sleep and even pointing to the ground saying, “Can I sleep there?” I wasn’t sure if she enjoyed it this year until a couple days later she asked me, “Can we see fireworks?”
“No, that’s only on the Fourth of July.”
“Can it be Fourth of July?”

Sleepy Lukas whose bedtime is typically 7pm stayed awake for the whole thing. Both kids slept in on the 5th. Lukas didn’t wake up for the day until 9 and Sophia, 10:30. That, right there, was my highlight!

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55 Flash non-Fiction Friday: Palin 2012

If Sarah Palin becomes President (stop twitching, just bear with me here), I wonder how many leaders would repeatedly fire translators before realizing…that’s really what comes out of her mouth. Better yet, how many will throw their hands up, shake their heads, and say, “I’m not even going to bother. It’s not worth the effort.”

Sarah word salad Palin

55 Flash Fiction Friday

Flash Fiction Friday is hosted by g-man.

nablopomo

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