Not So Happy New Year

Shock and Awe

“Oh, look how grown up she is!”  “What a cute little outfit!”  “Aww, look at her with her little baby/dollie.”

Yeah yeah yeah.  But did any of you stop and wonder “WTF?” I mean seriously, Why the face? (Oh the things I learn watching Modern Family!)

Well, I’ll tell you ‘Why The Face’!  If you can imagine, I got all pretty for New Years Eve .. because who doesn’t love wearing a pretty dress to sit on the floor and eat Caesar salad with their hands .. and in the midst of happily playing with my babies I overhear my parents talking about stopping the whole giving me boobs thing.   And I’m all like “WHAT?! Are you freaking kidding me!?!”.   I mean, I know I act like a bit like those ladies on COPS who are all “I don’t do crack. I mean it was only a couple of times.   Oh I forgot I got busted for possession last year.. and the year before and .. well, okay maybe I did it more than a couple of times, but I can stop. Really I can” when it comes to the whole boob thing, but is that so bad?  Hasn’t this really been a relationship of convenience all along?

I get my fix, my parents get me to be quiet/stop crying/go to sleep.  It hasn’t been all me.  They are enablers I tell you!!! I totally know how Lindsay Lohan feels now.  Except she got rehab and I got cold turkey on a silver platter.  And to make things worse, my mama is all “No more, all done. They’re finished” and I can totally see that they are still there.  First they think I am deaf and can’t hear their sinister plan and now they think I’m blind.   I may have had eye issues all through the year, but I can see!  And better than my four eyed mama, too!

So, I go to bed on New Year’s Eve hoping they’d see sense.  They even let me sleep on the couch which I totally took as a sign that they were going soft on me.  In exchange, I made sure not to wake up for a ‘hit’ until after 2am!  It’s all about working together.  But instead of being greeted by cuddles from my mama, my daddy comes along and whisks me upstairs.  What?! This isn’t right!! And then he tricked me even more because instead of taking me to my mama, he walked around with me until I fell asleep.  Only I refused to sleep in the crib, so he had to take me to the bed where my mama was.

I gave her about 30 minutes sleep before I tapped her gently (sort of) and cried a bit saying ‘bahbah?bahbah!’ in case she couldn’t understand what I wanted.  And she told me to be quiet.  No “Happy New Year My Sweet Baby Girl Who I Love Oh So Much And Wouldn’t Ever Want To See Cry”, not even a cuddle.  But I am nothing if not persistent, so I tried over and over from about 2.45am until 7.20am.  I thought if she didn’t get more than 4 minutes sleep at a time she’d just give in to make shut up.  Well, I found out where I get my stubbornness from that morning. She didn’t give in.  Not once.  And not once since then.

To make matters worse, she keeps moaning about how sore she is and asking when this will stop hurting.  If she’s looking for sympathy, she can keep looking because I’ve got none here (something else I inherited from her).

All I know is 2011 is not looking to be a good year for me.  And if I’m not happy, well……


what’s in a name?

People have been wondering why on earth my url is “box of squawks”. I’d like to say that I have been wondering the same thing, but it is no secret in my house: apparently I squawk a lot. In fact, my parents have been calling me “Squawk Box”, “Squawkers” and “Tiny Pterodactyl” since I arrived on the scene. How rude, right? But they don’t think so… they just laugh. To make it worse, Zed and Kadie think it is just as funny.

Newsflash people!! What you think is funny and cute now, might come back to haunt you. My “squawks” are only going to get louder as my lungs get stronger and then who do you think will be laughing, huh? Oh that’s right, good old Tiny Pterodactyl over here.

We’ll just see who gets the last squawk err laugh!