Birth Order
March 2, 2010 by NaysWay · Leave a Comment
I’m an only child. I think I’ve mentioned that before. It was always lonely as such, hence my need to procreate more than once.
My only experience in witnessing the dynamic of true siblingness (yes, I just made that word up) is watching Mooter and Booger.

Booger is going through a phase of I-used-to-be-the-cute-one-now-all-you-do-is-take-pictures-of-her. Mooter was first. The spotlight was on her for four-and-a-half years before that little troll of a sister came along. Of course, when we enter this crash course of despair and future therapy sessions in wait, I have to pull out my big box o’ pics where I’m almost buried in the avalanche of Mooter-related photos. Then I pull out the portable hard-drive and show Mooter the gigs and gigs of memory devoted to her mug. Is she convinced? Sometimes. But we’re working to curb years of yapping on a shrink’s couch here, so sometimes drastic measures are necessary. To restore peace and order to Siblingville, I take one pic of Mooter for every two snaps I dedicate to Booger. It’s a fair trade-off for two girls where, even at this young of an age, rationale never outweighs hormones.
Lately, Booger has been tricking me. She’s torn between wanting me in her face with a camera…

…and being so totally over me, that my lameness blows her mind.

I’m assuming this is what being the youngest, and a toddler, is all about.

The push and pull between asserting independence and needing a blankie. But I’ve found that the most important thing in her world is being the baby. And being the baby doesn’t help your older sister’s incessant thoughts of pushing you over a bridge when you are the Al Capone of babies.
Or was one just born a jerk while the other one wasn’t?

Because here’s a good example of a toddler, and (at the time) an only child. Do you see any jerk tendencies?
Oh, well. There goes my birth order theory.
Parenting siblings is hard on clueless only children.
Electric Boogie
February 24, 2010 by NaysWay · Leave a Comment
My family (BFam, the kids, Bo) and I are not traditionalists. We like to do things as weirdly as possible because… well, I don’t know why. I’m bitter, BFam’s cranky, and then we had kids. You guessed it – instant recipe for disaster. When everyone was going out to dinner, buying flowers, going to the movies, and a host of other cliches on Valentine’s Day, I bought BFam DJ Hero and called it a day. “Here honey. Love you. Now go play.”
We, as the parents, are never without moments for teaching opportunities. Our brood are at the respective ages where they actually like us, want to be with us and, if they can, try their darndest to emulate us. BFam and I were never too keen on self confidence growing up, so the thought of raising two girls who want nothing more than to be our reflection is all at once cute and confusing and icky. We are a range of emotion varying from flattered to overtly repulsed. Our physical reactions are very Marcel Marceau, almost always resulting in us as puddles on the floor. Despair in Still Life, canvas and oil.
In all our writhing and thrashing on the ground with compliments, we are both surprisingly competitive. You can tell us how awesome we are with a video game, just don’t tell us you love us. BFam was a lucky man finding a chick who shared his video game passions, and that’s not tooting my horn. How many women do you know who can kick butt in Contra AND know the cheat code (up up down down left right left right B A)? Oh, yeah, baby. You don’t want none of this! Mooter is smart. She’s picked up the gaming gene and ran full force with it. And Mommy and Daddy can play the game with me? WHAT? Have you made my coffin yet because I’m ready to die.
Enter our teaching opportunity. No one has soaked this in more than BFam. He won’t tell me but, secretly, I think he wanted at least one of these broads to be a boy.
Master Obi Wan? Rock that beat…
And, no. He did not know he was being taped but HOW CUTE WAS THAT LITTLE DANCE? Also, SCORE POINTS FOR THE WIFE! WOO-HOO!!!
(I’m so going to pay for that.) Also? Please excuse my camerawork. I don’t know what I was focusing on. The drapes, maybe?
Also? Please excuse Mooter’s allergies.
That is all.
Mooter loves the chance to impress her father. She is a young Jedi after all. DJ Hero… let’s just say it’s not one of those types of games that allow you to show off, per se.
I can’t begin to analyze this performance because I am SUCKTASTIC on DJ Hero. It’s alright. I openly admit defeat. DJ’ing is just not my thing.
But you can’t tell that to DJ Rocks-A-Lot / a.k.a. DJ Fader / a.k.a. DJ Snot Tot. That midget is vicious on the ones and twos.
¿Cómo se dice “Fromage”?
February 9, 2010 by NaysWay · Leave a Comment

I’m not sure the fascination with children and Chuck E. Cheese.

Who sat around and said, “Let’s take a giant rat. Some pizza. Throw in some carnival games, lots of primary colors. Tokens. Tickets. And voila!”?

Is it safe to call that person a genius?

I don’t remember my span of progression; the moment I decided I was all but rid of Chuck from my life.

When I either couldn’t fit in the rides anymore, or thought the food was disgusting. When did I balk at Chuck? When did I dismiss him as yet another nostalgic nuisance for the box of memories?

Old lovers are just like old cheese – hard to truly ever be rid of their smell.

Add spawns to the mix, and you’re all but guaranteed to never…

…ever be rid of the old cheese.

Eh, who am I kidding. MOVE OVER, MIDGET! I’M COMING IN!
Boogers Don’t Sleep
February 5, 2010 by NaysWay · Leave a Comment
Last night, after her bath, Booger decided she wasn’t sleepy. She made up this little diddy to give me a better understanding of her un-sleepiness.
If you didn’t understand her during her musical interlude, she said, “My boom-boom’s doing that.” And, no, I didn’t ask. Would you?
Boogers & Fairy Dust
January 26, 2010 by NaysWay · Leave a Comment
Strange things happen when you’re unloading your camera. Stranger things happen when you have a large memory card. While I need one for the specific type of camera I own (speeds performance, shutter speed, blah-blah-nerd talk), I can think of something I had to tell BFam, walk ten steps, open my mouth, point my finger to the sky – preparation for my climactic thing to tell him – and crickets. Just to give you an idea to those awesome inner-workings of mine. You can imagine a large memory card accumulating lots of pictures in my hands before *light bulb* you might want to empty that.
That’s when the Halloween photos from this past October happen.
That’s when I get gems like this of my angel pie face. Isn’t she just the cutest demon spawn ever?

Harsh, you say?

To call my child a demon spawn?

Perhaps.

Oh. Booger. You’re too close.

Out of the blinds, Booger.

Young lady. Be still. I have to take pictures so your family can see what you looked like for Halloween. C’mon!

Did you hear what I said?! I’m serious!
That’s it. That kid’s gonna get it when I get home. And when she asks me why I’ll remind her OF OCTOBER.


















