Yeah. I HATE that expression. Children are beautiful and innocent beings. Yes, even when they use the word “NO,” or when they throw tantrums. Two year olds are supposed to have fits. That’s what they do. It is a developmental milestone. I don’t like it, and It isn’t always easy for me, but my son isn’t terrible or bad or evil, and neither is any other toddler.
In addition to Ben’s last post- you can see just a selected few of last month’s photos by looking at the top rated.
Just copied them all over to the server and loaded them in. June will be coming out rather quick as well but with no school going on right now I should be able to get them in quicker!
Last week we got back from a long trip to California to visit family that we haven’t seen collectively in years. We were supposed to leave on Monday and end up home that night (between a 15-18 hour drive, depending on stops)… unfortunately we were delayed by a day. Was it California’s fault? Not entirely. To be fair, it is mostly our fault (myself and Shae) for not being assertive enough about the dangers of his allergy. But during the process we were shown yet another reason why we will never live in the state again. I’ll try to keep this short for my sake more than anyone reading this. I’m tired (look at the time).
On Sunday night Djai got hold of a small amount of peanut butter from a cookie. We’re talking a corner of a 1″ by 1″ cookie… not too much. But, as anyone with a peanut allergy knows, it doesn’t take a great deal of the stuff for a reaction.
Shae noticed it by the small bit of chocolate around his mouth. She knew what it was. My Mom knew that the only cookie on the table that had melted chocolate was the ones with peanut butter. We were all saying good-byes so nobody saw him get it. I’ll be honest here that I was in complete denial and wanted to believe that he had gotten anything other than the cookie with the peanut butter. A brownie? Anything. But no. I didn’t want to believe it.
Then he started coughing.
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I’m a modern man, a man for the millennium. Digital and smoke free. A diversified multi-cultural, post-modern deconstruction that is anatomically and ecologically incorrect. I’ve been up linked and downloaded, I’ve been inputted and outsourced, I know the upside of downsizing, I know the downside of upgrading. I’m a high-tech low-life. A cutting edge, state-of-the-art bi-coastal multi-tasker and I can give you a gigabyte in a nanosecond!
I’m new wave, but I’m old school and my inner child is outward bound. I’m a hot-wired, heat seeking, warm-hearted cool customer, voice activated and bio-degradable. I interface with my database, my database is in cyberspace, so I’m interactive, I’m hyperactive and from time to time I’m radioactive.
Behind the eight ball, ahead of the curve, ridin the wave, dodgin the bullet and pushin the envelope. I’m on-point, on-task, on-message and off drugs. I’ve got no need for coke and speed. I’ve got no urge to binge and purge. I’m in-the-moment, on-the-edge, over-the-top and under-the-radar. A high-concept, low-profile, medium-range ballistic missionary. A street-wise smart bomb. A top-gun bottom feeder. I wear power ties, I tell power lies, I take power naps and run victory laps. I’m a totally ongoing big-foot, slam-dunk, rainmaker with a pro-active outreach. A raging workaholic. A working rageaholic. Out of rehab and in denial!
I’ve got a personal trainer, a personal shopper, a personal assistant and a personal agenda. You can’t shut me up. You can’t dumb me down because I’m tireless and I’m wireless, I’m an alpha male on beta-blockers.
I’m a non-believer and an over-achiever, laid-back but fashion-forward. Up-front, down-home, low-rent, high-maintenance. Super-sized, long-lasting, high-definition, fast-acting, oven-ready and built-to-last! I’m a hands-on, foot-loose, knee-jerk head case pretty maturely post-traumatic and I’ve got a love-child that sends me hate mail.
But, I’m feeling, I’m caring, I’m healing, I’m sharing– a supportive, bonding, nurturing primary care-giver. My output is down, but my income is up. I took a short position on the long bond and my revenue stream has its own cash-flow. I read junk mail, I eat junk food, I buy junk bonds and I watch trash sports! I’m gender specific, capital intensive, user-friendly and lactose intolerant.
I like rough sex. I like tough love. I use the “F” word in my emails and the software on my hard-drive is hardcore–no soft porn.
I bought a microwave at a mini-mall; I bought a mini-van at a mega-store. I eat fast-food in the slow lane. I’m toll-free, bite-sized, ready-to-wear and I come in all sizes. A fully-equipped, factory-authorized, hospital-tested, clinically-proven, scientifically- formulated medical miracle. I’ve been pre-wash, pre-cooked, pre-heated, pre-screened, pre-approved, pre-packaged, post-dated, freeze-dried, double-wrapped, vacuum-packed and, I have an unlimited broadband capacity.
I’m a rude dude, but I’m the real deal. Lean and mean! Cocked, locked and ready-to-rock. Rough, tough and hard to bluff. I take it slow, I go with the flow, I ride with the tide. I’ve got glide in my stride. Drivin and movin, sailin and spinin, jiving and groovin, wailin and winnin. I don’t snooze, so I don’t lose. I keep the pedal to the metal and the rubber on the road. I party hearty and lunch time is crunch time. I’m hangin in, there ain’t no doubt and I’m hangin tough, over and out!