{"id":742,"date":"2010-03-03T21:29:08","date_gmt":"2010-03-04T01:29:08","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.crumbbums.com\/?p=742"},"modified":"2012-01-22T10:09:21","modified_gmt":"2012-01-22T16:09:21","slug":"thems-fightin-words-er-babbles","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.crumbbums.com\/?p=742","title":{"rendered":"Them’s Fightin’ Words… Er, Babbles"},"content":{"rendered":"

I am pleased to say that I have never found myself in the midst of a girl-on-girl (or girl-on-boy for that matter) fist fight. The idea was completely foreign to me until junior high, when I witnessed my first hair-pulling, cat-scratching, bee-ach-calling girly-fight between two newcomers to my ultra-preppy more-like-a-private-school public school. I spent the entirety of my high school years in the absence of such public scorn. I mean, NO ONE fought. Not even the hormone-raging gents. At least, not while I was standing there.<\/p>\n

I managed to emerge from my behavioral school social worker position unscathed. In a place where fighting was daily. No, hourly. Kids against kids, kids against staff. Flying punches, flying chairs, flying feces. No joke. In a place where assault was the norm, I managed to avoid, or at least run like a chicken away from certain bodily harm. Ode to Garfield Park Academy. How I fear thee. How I miss thee in some strange, oddly charmed way.<\/p>\n

I lived in the city. Baltimore City. Had a few rocks thrown at me while I was pushing Baby Milo in his stroller. The rocks missed us, and I can still say with certain honesty that it was my favorite place to live. Bodymore, Murderland.<\/p>\n

But….<\/p>\n

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Becoming a Mommy has lowered my defenses. The chubby cheeks, the cherub-like faces, they are so enchanting they weaken the senses. My reaction time is crap. Those rosy cheeks and drooly chins are so enticing, they trick me into a false sense of safety. Drunk on baby-smell, I am a walking target for his wrath.<\/p>\n

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Oliver. My sweet, easygoing little fat-cube. The ferocity with which he feels life right now is frightening. In the bathtub, he is a maniac. Nearly impossible to contain, barely allowing me to prevent him from drowning. He flaps his arms frantically like a trapped sparrow while kicking and writhing and screeching in a noise I can only imagine is the exact sound a pterodactyl once made.\u00a0 And he is happy. Eye-gouging-ly happy. Love is acted out through a deep gaze, a piercing look that lasts just… a… little… too… long…. OOOOOUUUUUCHH!<\/p>\n

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@$#&%^$%$^*&^%#@@$%!!!! His fist closes like a vice around the skin on my cheek, or neck, or ear, or hair, even my lower lip sometimes. LIKE A VICE! It takes the jaws of life to extract his tiny, fat inhumanly strong grip from my flesh while trying to save a scrap of skin to cover the rest of my face. Aw, he is so sweet at this age.<\/p>\n

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But really, he is.<\/p>\n

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Two-tooth Tuesday<\/em><\/p>\n

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Gooey Gumdrop<\/em><\/p>\n

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What’s that you say? You like the bags under my eyes? Why thank you! I’ve been working on these puppies ALL night.<\/em><\/p>\n

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Just sayin’, beware all ye pacifists. Watch out for the babes.<\/p>\n

P.s. Milo, not to be outdone by his prehistoric attack-brother, is now sleeping in a toddler bed and saying stuff like, “Shhhh… I hear somethin’. There’s a bear in the heater.”<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

I am pleased to say that I have never found myself in the midst of a girl-on-girl (or girl-on-boy for that matter) fist fight. The idea was completely foreign to me until junior high, when I witnessed my first hair-pulling, cat-scratching, bee-ach-calling girly-fight between two newcomers to my ultra-preppy more-like-a-private-school public school. I spent the … Continue reading “Them’s Fightin’ Words… Er, Babbles”<\/span><\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":2,"featured_media":1456,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_exactmetrics_skip_tracking":false,"footnotes":""},"categories":[105],"tags":[57,47,85],"class_list":["post-742","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-family","tag-dc","tag-milo-isms","tag-ouchies"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.crumbbums.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/742","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.crumbbums.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.crumbbums.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.crumbbums.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/2"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.crumbbums.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=742"}],"version-history":[{"count":5,"href":"https:\/\/www.crumbbums.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/742\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":1782,"href":"https:\/\/www.crumbbums.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/742\/revisions\/1782"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.crumbbums.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/media\/1456"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.crumbbums.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=742"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.crumbbums.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=742"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.crumbbums.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=742"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}