Wednesday, June 27, 2012

I feel like an update is needed..

It is 11:25pm and Jackson is up. That is all. Feel sorry for me. He decided I was to have a horrible birthday.

Flapjacks & Udders

I've never really been interested in my birthday. This has a lot to do with the fact that I somehow always manage to have a really crappy one. I'm pretty sure it's black magic of some sort. I was anticipating it nervously last night while texting husband & he even made the comment (see image to left) that my birthday always manages to be a great big suckfest.  Anyway, it was an accurate prediction. Jackson decided that this morning was a fantastic time to urinate so intensely that he soaked through his diaper, his onesie, his pants, & also saturated his blankets & sheets. So at 6 am I was changing him & his bed & frantically making another bottle, attempting to lure him back into the land of Nod before his groggy eyes caught sight of shiny things & he officially began terrorizing the world for the day. I succeeded! I was so excited! And then.. my cousin's dogs caught sight of Medusa, the skittish cat that eats near the edge of the porch (when she can find a dog-free window of safety, that is). Cajun & Legit (don't ask about the name of the latter, I don't know either) LOST THEIR FREAKIN' MINDS & chased Medusa off the porch. But instead of being her normal skittish self, she taunted them with her presence just out of their reach. They were trapped on the porch, gated & fenced in. The demon feline flicked her tail & teased her adversaries for a half hour. For a full half hour I listened to their yelps & howls & whines. & then.. I lost it.

I don't mean I kinda lost it.. I mean I really, honestly, really really lost it. I launched myself somehow all the way from the living room to the kitchen, grabbed the largest plastic cup I could find & vengefully filled it with ice from the freezer & tap water. I stirred it to make sure it was as cold as possible, then swung open the swing door & flung the 50+ ounces of ice water all over the little mutts. (Sorry Vali, I love you, & I love your dogs.. Tons, really, I do. Really. Really!) But it was too late. 6:45am & Jax was up saying "Mama! Joof! Chachin! Dada! Mama Dada Mama Daddy Mama Dad!" He then started ripping his diaper off.

And so began my 23rd birthday.

Since then it's been less eventful, except for the massive fit he pitched when I wouldn't let him chew on my iPhone charger or stick his finger in my free USB slot on the side of my laptop.