Boobies are like jello

As I'm hanging up Cheese's laundry I'm filtering through and separating her pjs and spankies. I stumble across her 'braaaaawl' also known as her bra. It's a little training sports bra that she threw a fit to have on our last trip to Justice.

I casually toss it to her and tell her to put it in her pajamas. I also inform her that she should be wearing it since she asked for it. 

'Well you see, it's not very comfortable. The bottom stripe is kind of tight.' 

'Cheese, that never changes, for the purpose of your braaaaawl is to support your boobies. And you're built just like your momma so chances are you're gonna have big boobies, so you should get used to it.' 

'Why do some women have boobies that go to their belly buttons?'

*insert incredibly serious look here*

'Because they didn't wear a braaaaawl, Cheese.' 

'Well you wear one so why are your boobies so squishy? Are they made of jello?' 

'No sweet Cheesus, boobies are not made of jello.'

'Can you buy some the next time you go to the store? It's so good.'

What can I say? There's always room for jello...even when your attention span is that of a flea. 

Eight is Great

As Cheese's eighth birthday approaches I have to sit back and do a mental montage of the last few years.

When I found out that I was going to have a girl I was truly sad. I did not want a girl, I didn't want to deal with make up, periods or boys. I was stressing about this fact. But Big Papa took me shopping for pink things and my heart did a little happy dance, but I was still hesitant about having a girl.

Then a few short weeks later I was being wheeled into the operating room for her to be born by a c-section. As I laid on the operating table being stitched up I looked to my left and down, seeing the warming bed with my already screaming and pissed off child. I saw the pink hat on her head and I was in love. I knew at that moment that life was about to get a lot more interesting.

Cheese was a very difficult baby, colicky and never sleeping. Colic faded but sleeping never changed much. Only needing a few hours a night, I was doomed to be exhausted with an infant and toddler. We had after hours tea parties, midnight dress ups, and art exhibitions at 2 AM. It was fun, I will admit, exhausted as I was.

The best part of her toddler years? Her first sentence...

I still see it, as if it was yesterday. Not quite two years old, K-Man hit her while he was outside. Her little hands knotted into fists, shaking hard, her face turning more red by the second and finally, in a voice so tiny, she bellowed:

DAMMIT K-MAN!!!

Life only became more of a ride after her first sentiments. Testing her limits early on. Dropping the f-bomb by two and a half. Making exclamations about being adopted and sex instead of cupcakes.

THIS is what I signed up for! A child that is just like me. Most would find this as a curse but I see it as a great blessing. While I am paying for any wrongs I committed as a child, I am also watching her become quite the young lady. So polite in public with a mouth like a sailor at home.

This blog has been quiet for a while but it's because she just hasn't had a whole lot to say as of late. But they're happening and I am catching them.

Thank you for joining our side show that is my life.

And Cheese...

Thank you for all the laughs and the joys, and the tears over the last eight years. I love you, you monstrous little girl. You wonderful little gift from...above...yeah...above, that's what I want to say.

Happy Birthday Cheese! Here's to the next 8 years of your mouth!

FAYAT

Eating pizza for dinner, I see Cheese quickly eat her piece. I scarf down half a pizza in no time. She keeps taking all the crust from everyone and eating them and eying me the entire time.

We keep talking as she is eating, it goes a little bit something like this:

Cheese: I CAN'T STOP EATING THESE!! They are so good!

Me: Don't eat too many! They'll make you sick. And they are so good because they are full of yummy carbs.

Cheese: I don't care, I want to eat them all!

Me: Carbs make you chubby. Believe me I know.

Cheese: It's okay, when we take a family picture I make you look skinny cause I stand in front of you.

Me: *Blank stare, straight mouth*

Me: I was skinny when you were a baby.

Cheese: *Rolls eyes and makes a smirky face*

Cheese: *Looks down nose like a cop, moves her invisible aviators* I'm gonna need to see proof of this.

Me: Ask grandma!

Grandma: *Nods, laughing*

Cheese: I don't think so...

Me: What are you saying?

Cheese: Nothing...you told me if I couldn't say anything nice then don't say anything at all. And what I was gonna is NOT pooooolite.

Me: Are you saying I am fat?

Cheese: You're not fayat. (This is her drawl on it...I wish inflection of tone could be typed)

Me: Well, what exactly are you saying to me?

Cheese: *smirk* Nothing.

Me: Go ahead...say it.

Cheese: Well, *I* didn't say it but yes...yes, you are fayat.

Me: *straightest of straight line mouths*

Cheese shrugs her little shoulders, and smiles with that evil grin that looks so scarily familiar.

Now I am going to go eat a pint of ice cream and add to my fayat...wait that's NOT polite!

Greatest Day EVAR

Cheese gets new stickers while on vacation with Papaw and Grandma in the Smokey Mountains.

"This is the GREATEST day of my life"

I wish, even if for a moment, that I could be THAT excited for something so menial as stickers. 


Cheese gets a new puppy beanie baby while on vacation with Papaw and Grandma in the Smokey Mountains.

"This is definitely the GREATEST day of my life"

Cheese gets rocks from the Mill in the Smokey Mountains:

"The Smokey Mountains are the GREATEST days ever!"

Cheese gets fudge from the candy store in the Smokey Mountains and eats all of it before returning home:

"Can you take me back next weekend to get more chocolate fudge?"

"I can make you fudge at home, Cheese. " says Grandma

"But I want to go back to the Smokeys naow!"

Cheese had the GREATEST days of her eight short years in the Smokey Mountains. I am guessing we will be making another trip soon. 

Not Today

After dinner tonight, Cheese, Grandma and I were sitting around the table talking and having a few laughs.

Grandma made a statement Cheese did not approve of so she stood up and walked to my mom and covered her mouth with her hand.

We giggled for a moment and then a thought crossed my mind. (This is a statement that I know she will be insanely pissed and embarrassed about when she is older.)

Me: So, uh, Cheese...did you pick your butt?

Cheese: NOT TODAY!!! *lady gaga eyes*

Me: *Blank stare*

Grandma: *Deer in headlights*

Me: That's just gross.

Ya itchy?? Let me help you with that.

Pigs are friends....and food.

Dinner conversation at our house is never dull, ever. But of course when your child is the one named Cheese how can it be?

Dinner is served, we are having a Kentucky tradition for dinner, hot browns. For those who don't know what a hot brown is I will explain. It is turkey or chicken served on top of toast, topped with bacon and tomatoes and then smothered in a cheese sauce. They are out of this world. Of course, Cheese has no tomato on hers.

Everyone is gathered around the table, hot browns set before us. We are digging in and I eye my eldest daughter slurping her bacon up like a piece of spaghetti. I watch amazed at how quickly and efficiently she achieves this.

She catches me eyeballing her and turns to look at me. Some times when she does this the hair on my arms stands up because it is purely evil but tonight it was questioning. Her look read "What the fuck do you want?" and "Take a picture, it will last longer."

"You really love bacon, don'tcha Cheese?"

"Yup, I love bacon. It's good for my belly."

Keep in mind this child probably consumes as much bacon as Wendy's uses in a week on baconators. She could survive solely on bacon alone.

"Mommy, do you think Papa would buy me a pig to keep at his house?"

"Hmmm, good question Cheese. Why do you want a pig? They poop a lot you know."

"I am okay with that. He would be in a field anyway, not like it's our carpet. But baby pigs are cute. They are cuddly and fuzzy and sweet...."

Dramatic pause inserted here because she knows how to work the room.

"And then when they grow up you can kill them and make bacon!"

*cough and choke on my bite*

"You would kill your pet?"

"Yep, the world needs ham mommy."

Point taken, enough said.

"Yes the world needs ham but it wouldn't need your ham, there are farms that grow pigs just for that purpose."

"Well then the ham would be all mine. Bacon for every day."

Bacon for every day folks. And for everyone.

Step Daddy

It's been a while, I know. A hiatus of sorts for me. Things have been busy here, so many things that Cheese has spouted off.

Cleaning out was my intention, looking for a lost piece of my history. Cheese was being ever so helpful with the process. Pulling things out of the container and shouting in my face "WHAT IS THIS?! WHEN DID YOU GET IT?! CAN I HAVE IT?!" She was excited because she found a teddy bear, and some other odds and ends that I graciously gifted her.

While digging away I see her pull a stone gray folder out, just big enough for a 5x7 picture. My eyes grew wide because I knew what was in it, I was waiting to gauge her reaction. This was going to be fucking fantastic!

I watched her nimble little fingers pry the folder apart, her eyes grew into GaGa eyes as she stared down at the portrait inside. She looked up at me, wide gaze still in place, then glanced back down. She did four or five takes between me and the photograph. Her mouth hung open, jaw on the floor. Then slowly and surely her eyes met mine one more time.

She speaks!!

"Is that you mommy?"
"Yes love, that's mommy a long time ago."
"But your hair is yellow....and...you're....not fat."


There it is, a knife in my heart. Go ahead sweet Cheese, twist it some more.

"Well, love, mommy was quite a bit younger then."
"Who is that boy with you?"
"That was my date. Mr. Zoot Suit himself."
"Well, I want to meet my other daddy."

What the fuck?! How did we get from "mommy you're a fat ass" to "I want to meet my other daddy."?  I just cocked my head to one side, almost as if pondering the comeback and she met me movement for movement. I sat there, almost stunned to being without words.

"Um, well, you'll probably never meet him because he's not your daddy."

Silence!! Yes!! I won!! I beat her at her own game.

"Well if he isn't my daddy why the hell are you in a fancy dress with those grandma shoes with another silly boy in a silly suit."

-Sigh- A long deep one at that.

"It's a formal dance, my love. Girls wear pretty dresses and boys wear silly suits, pin flowers on each other and dance the night away followed by a good amount of parties."

"Did you drink beers?"
"Yes, Cheese, I did."
"Then he is my daddy, you drank with him and I bet you made babies together."

Who the hell taught my kid this shit? Oh yeah, that would be late night television since the little shit won't go to bed. That's right, sleep is for the weak.

Deep breath mommy, deep breath. "Well, while I did drink beers with my date I did NOT make babies with him. That is something a mommy and daddy do when they are in love and believe me I was not in love with my date."

Cue Daddy's arrival....THANK YOU GOD!

"Daddy, did you know that I have another daddy?!"

Fuck. My. Life. Really?

"Um well this is news to me?" Now I am getting the one eyebrow up and one eyebrow down look. The man with the rubber face knows how to this look soooooo well.

"Prom." One word, that's all he gets, I am not going into depth anymore. My brain hurts from this conversation.

I get the nod that he understands, he goes on his way.

"So when am I going to meet my other daddy?"

"Soon, Lovey, soon."

Defeat...I admit defeat. You win this time Cheese.