Get Used To It - Not Anymore

You know the saying s/he's seems like an asshole at first but not once you get to know them?
That's total bullshit. Because what it actually means is: s/he's is a total asshole and you just get used to it.

Which is how I feel about the president-elect. Trump's an asshole. And this isn't a case of  "seems like one at first." Throughout his entire campaign he bullied every opponent, boasted about committing sexual assault, spewed hateful and divisive rhetoric, and then sulked and demanded apologies for his thin orange skin like the man-baby he is if called out on any of it. That. Is. An. ASSHOLE. Those weren't "campaign promises" or dismissed "locker room talk" (also bullshit). He's always been this way and he's going to continue to be that way because being an asshole got him the presidency. And he's proving himself to be one over and over again with the twitter diatribes about the recount and each cabinet member he appoints. With an "alt-right" adviser here and a no experience there. Here an asshole, there an asshole, everywhere an asshole! Ripping away our civil rights, e-i-e-i-o!

But even after a recount, if #ImStillWithHer accepts the results, I begrudgingly will too. Even though the knot in my stomach grows tighter whenever the schmuck opens his mouth/tweets. Ugh, an asshole will be our president. But I refuse to "get used to it" or accept his behavior as a human being. And I hope the nation doesn't either.

Little Turkey

Welp. My baby is ONE! I'm honestly having a bit of a hard time with her being a full year old.  I mean, just, wow. In 366 days (leap year) she went from this:

an hour or two old

to this!

one year old!

Our tiny, perfect helpless newborn

my favorite newborn outfit

became our smiley

and proud alumni wearing

giggly,

not pictured: the sequels of joy  

sometimes sassy

I am NOT amused mommy

but always snugly

her favorite place to sleep

dog feeding

Boston Terrier: not included w/high chair

well traveled

Three flights, no (ok some) tears!

shark wearing

Happy Halloween!

most perfect little girl.

absolutely perfect

She made our family a million times happier than we ever imagined.

 .

We're pretty lucky like that! 

Happy Birthday Little Turkey!!

All American Palate

My mom visited last weekend and we commiserated over the election and talked each up to and then somewhat down from the ledge. But having my mom in town also means we go out to eat a lot (the cooking/menu planning/hostess with the mostest game has been pretty weak with the time suck that is parenting) and she has an adventurous palate so we try new places.

Anyway, I wanted to try the Asian grocery store close by because I heard they had authentic dim sum. I've helped my mom make a few things on occasion, but those delicious finger foods are deceptively "simple." Because those suckers take time a ton of time, energy and spices I don't have in my pantry. So we go and right off the bat we see a ton of Asians eating there which is always a good sign the food is authentic/good. And this place is loud and crowded and everyone who looks like my mom is yelling over each other in Chinese.

But here's another thing about my mom, she's ABC- American Born Chinese. And she knows some Cantonese, but no Mandarin. So we had no idea what we were ordering. Or eating. So it was...interesting.  

You know it's authentic when you see the locals eating there. But you know you're American when your mom doesn't know what you're eating.  

2016 Election Thoughts

I am pretty horrified by the 2016 election results. Actually, scared shit-less is a better description.
I know my husband and I will be okay. We're a white/Asian heterosexual legally recognized married college educated couple. We both have careers and insurance through our employers. But what about my LGBTQ friends? What about my extended family who is uninsured? What about the disabled and all the other same groups of people I don't know? What about my daughter? What the hell kind of world are we leaving her?

A demagogue. A racist. A xenophobe. A misogynist. That. That scares the hell out of me. And it should scare the hell out you too.

And I'm angry. I get that people just hate Clinton, whether it's she's establishment, not your party, don't agree with her record, etc. But you couldn't accept this devil you know is far better (and safer choice) than the devil you don't? And though I vehemently disagree with you, I accept that you have a reason for your choice. But don't defend the demagogue president-elect's rhetoric and behavior. Defending is accepting and allows the stance that anyone who isn't a rich-white-man is less than and doesn't matter as much. And that should be unacceptable behavior for a human being.

And to those of you who assuaged your conscious and voted for a 3rd party or write-in I hope you feel at least some sort of shame too. Because even though you may be happy you didn't didn't vote for either evil, your protest vote was not a vote for Clinton and she needed numbers. And while I know her supporters needed to show up at the polls too, splitting the vote is simple math and helped put that orange asshole into power.  

I proudly voted for Clinton, so I'm dismayed at the election results. And for a small bit of levity for this terrified post, I'm also pretty disappointed there won't be a taco truck on every corner either.  

Football Dreams

I had this dream a while ago I thought I would share now* since it's football season.

Luke Kuechly, Colin Kaepernick, and some other well known player were all staying at our house during training camp. They all really wanted me to pack them their lunches for camp, like a mother hen. So for some reason I took them all grocery shopping with me. I would push the cart and send them all off into the store aisles to fetch whatever ingredient I needed to make the lunch they wanted.

They did pretty well but one of them (I think it was Luke) wasn't sure what kind of eggs to get, so he put a dozen free range and a dozen brown eggs in the cart hoping those were right. I asked if  he had checked to make sure none of them were cracked, but he sheepishly shook his head because he didn't know he was supposed to do that. I think I gently reminded him and sent him to another aisle. After that it gets a little hazy but I suppose I packed their lunches and sent them all off to camp.

I have the best football dreams.

*okay, full disclosure, I started this post in the summer right after I had the dream but totally forgot to post it because, well, life, and now and it just happens to be football season.

 

Cat House

I try to run a tight leash when it comes to the dog. I watched enough dog whisperer pre-Bailey to know my dog had to respect me if I wanted to have any type of control over it. Then we paid a hefty penny for hard core training when Bailey and Jules were fighting, and the respect thing was highly enforced. So when I go on a walk with the dog I keep her on a short leash and don't let her lead or mark along the way. Except for one place, the lawn that belongs to the cat that attacked her.
Yeah. You read that right.  My leashed dog got attacked by a cat.

Back when the baby was about a month old the four of us (me pushing the stroller, Mike walking the dog) were taking a w-a-l-k when out of nowhere this streak of orange comes from behind and animal fight noises start. The baby starts to wail so I snap into mama bear mode and run a few steps to protect her. Meanwhile Mike has managed to pick up the dog by her leash while kicking at the streak of orange attacking her, which then retreats to a tree trunk and hisses at us. While in fight mode something has bled on mike's pants and the dog nipped or scratched him along the jaw so he's bleeding too and all we can do for a moment is stare in disbelief at this hissing streak of orange that we have just realized is a cat. But it gets even more ridiculous.

All the commotion brought the cat's owner outside who asks what just happened. The dog is still wriggling so we have no idea if she's okay but we know at least one animal is bleeding, my husband is bleeding, the baby's crying and this cat is hissing at us. So still in a bit of shock we tell them this cat just attacked our dog. And their response? "But he doesn't even have claws!"

Excuse me? This cat we have seen around the neighborhood before that just attacked our dog is declawed?  WHAT? And the owner, who didn't see a damn thing and leaves the garage door open a crack so this declawed cat can roam around, keeps insisting the cat doesn't have claws and doesn't believe us, and they don't even ask if anyone, human or animal is okay.

By this point the hissing cat has run back into the open garage, Jules has stopped wriggling enough that we can tell at the very least she's and dr soc's jaw isn't gushing blood, but the baby is still wailing at the top of her lungs, our nerves are on edge and the cat owner keeps reiterating the cat doesn't have claws. We need first aid and we're going to get absolutely nowhere with this person, so we curtly restate the cat attacked our dog, and we are leaving to take care of ourselves and hightail it home.

The whole walk home we're making sure we're not crazy and that we both saw/heard the same thing. A streak of orange that roams around the neighborhood whenever it wants because the garage is left open is a motherf*cking declawed cat and it attacked our dog. That sounds made up but it totally happened! At home we clean the shallow scratches on Jules' legs and the nip along dr soc's jaw, but thankfully everyone is okay enough. In disbelief, but okay.

A motherf*cking declawed cat attacked my dog. Mark all you want at that cat house Jules. Mark all you motherf*cking want.