Sunny Days in DC

Jack of All Trades, Master of 3-ish.

Your Ten Month Old Daughter is a Whore, and No I’m Not Overreacting (and other tales of mommyhood).

Ahh Ireland. Everyone kept telling me we were having abnormally beautiful weather, what with my being able to see the sky and all. Now it seems we have returned to “the new norm” for me, and the plain ol’ regular shite weather for everyone else around here. Interestingly enough, too, there is NOTHING to do in my neighborhood with a toddler on a rainy day. It’s like they’ve never experienced the combination of children + rain. It’s Ireland, y’all…. that’s pretty much the only two things people think when they think of this country! RAIN, AND BREEDING. Well, and Guinness… ok. Three things.

So, that leaves me with a bored toddler.


*Where’s the government funding to end bored toddlers, you guys??*

So naturally, I accosted every mom, mum, nanny, and child-minder I could find until someone begged me to leave them alone came up with an idea. IKEA has several play centers in their Dublin shop, so why not try that?

You know why not? BECAUSE OTHER PARENTS BRING THEIR KIDS, TOO. Parents with little blond girls that come up to my son and kiss him and try to throw him down on the wee little “KRITTER” beds or whatever they are. Listen other parents, yeah, your toddlers are cute, but I’m too young to be a grandmother yet. Handle your women-folk.


Also, our downstairs neighbor hates us, because Max gets up at 6:30am and decides it’s time to throw things on the ground as HARD as he can. HA HA HA… YOU MAY NOT HAVE CHILDREN, DOWNSTAIRS NEIGHBOR WHO THOUGHT SHE WOULD BE ABLE TO SLEEP THROUGH THEY NIGHT, BUT YOU GET TO EXPERIENCE MOMMYHOOD, TOO!!

To be fair, I do almost everything I can (short of duct tape, because those abuse charges are a BITCH to get expunged) to keep him quiet in the mornings. I am a fairly respectful person. But she screamed seven different kinds of f* bombs at Max the other day from inside her apartment, so now the living room is filled with all the fucks that I don’t give. FILLED, I SAY!!

Also, for those wondering, the Guinness IS pretty good here. Come visit!


In which I learn that I have a hard time with boundaries.

I’m kind of like one of those Labrador Retrievers, in that I like to lick myself make new friends everywhere I go. Part of it is innate, but another big part I get from a friend of mine. I used to be her manager, and on our first day together, I took her out to lunch to get to know her better. She started off lunch by saying:

“I just want you to know: I know I have a hole in my crotch.”


Of course, she was just referring to her pants, but I choose to ignore that, and believe that she just knew how to sweet talk me with awkwardness.

HER side of the story is that she liked me, and forced me to be her friend by telling me about her crotch, and also “inadvertently” grabbing my boob when our train stopped short one day. That happened, too.

Our friendship is built on accidental sexual harassment.

Anyway, today I went to Ikea with my husband and El Bebe. Ikea is what I do when I need pretty in my life, and Target just won’t fucking cut it anymore. Ikea makes me feel like I could be someplace foreign and exotic, but where everything is clean, in English, and they have delicious meatballs.

Interestingly enough, they don’t like when you go to sleep on one of their beds.

Ask me how I know this.

My husband walked away with Max for a couple of minutes and… ok, I’m not proud of this part, but I ran away.

HEY HEY HEY!! I DIDN’T TOTALLY LEAVE MY HUSBAND AND SON… you know, not for long. I just went to the bedding section when they weren’t looking. I also might have knocked over some KVELLERs or whatever those cabinets are called to make it harder for them to follow by accident. There, I spied a lovely bed that didn’t have a screaming baby near it, and figured I would test the firmness of the mattress.

I fell the fuck asleep in Ikea. A chick in a yellow shirt was all, “Umm… Ma’am… you can’t sleep in the display.”

Agree to disagree… because I totally am right now.


*Her, too. I’mma find this woman, and make her be my friend. We’ll start a club. JOIN US.*

“Ma’am? Ma’am. Do you have any questions about the display?”

Yes… how do I turn the light off, and where do I get a fourth wall?

Eventually, I had to get up, because I’m too pretty for prison. And also because my husband found me. He says that most people don’t actually get horizontal in Ikea, but I think he’s just jealous that I thought of it first.

As we argued, I saw another exhausted looking mom walking around with a small baby. So, because I’m me, I asked her, “You have a baby; if you could take a nap in Ikea for a few hours, wouldn’t you?”

“Totally” she said without batting an eye.

I got her number. I’m going to make her be my best friend, and we’re going to have sleepovers in IKEA.

And eat meatballs in bed. Class, all the way.


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