Category Archives: The Honey Badger

The Bacon Standoff

Wow, time has flown by. I have been busy, busy, busy. My mother-in-law came from Georgia to visit for almost two weeks, and Erin, consequently, turned us on our heads. It was a great visit, but the person/thing that profited most from the visit was definitely Flash. He’s currently suffering from PTSD, however, he had a bit of a reprieve given that Grandma Vicki brought two furry little Shih-tzu puppies with her : Hannah and Sadie. They might be able to get a discount on group therapy, if it weren’t for the fact they live 11 hours away from each other. Misery loves company. Oh well. Anyway, Grandma Vicki slept in Erin’s bed, which was perfectly fine since she vacates her bed every night to form the letter H formation between her father and I in our bed. The draw of the puppies was too great, though, and she spent many a night in her sleeping bag, hunkered down on the floor next to Grandma Vicki, right where the puppies slept.

Here is a pic of the happy camper. (Singlular, not plural.)

I called the puppies for a comment, but they are still working through their own PTSD issues.

I called the puppies for a comment, but they are still working through their own PTSD issues.

Then there were nights like this, when she refused to sleep anywhere, so we had to put the gate up in our bedroom to keep her in there.

She's picketing. On the floor in front of Rudy's crate. She's smart as shit.

She’s picketing. On the floor in front of Rudy’s crate. She’s smart as shit. Plus, she got caught 1) not being in bed like we asked and, 2) enjoying herself reading books. Double whammy.

Ok, so her sleeping situation became a bit unglued, no fault to anyone, it’s just that there was too much excitement with Grandma here! She did manage to bust out gymnastics in her usual fashion. The usual fashion being, a giant smile, stories for her teacher about how her Mom with one leg cannot do cartwheels (oh, but I can! And my husband told me to stop because I was going to hurt myself…..), picking her wedge gratuitously every 5 minutes, and the best of all – Honey Badger Jumping Jacks. Oh God, they are THE BEST.

Most kids get a stamp on their hands after class. Erin sticks her foot out and makes them stamp her foot. Can't see it here, but that's how she rolls.

Most kids get a stamp on their hands after class. Erin sticks her foot out and makes them stamp her foot.

We had a super time with Grandma Vicki!! Grandma Vicki is super organized, on time, and totally on top of everything. She was a part of our chaos for just enough time to spur her to get the hell out of dodge back to her organized, clean and on time lifestyle.

So, here we are and we’re getting back into our routine. I thought we did pretty well for a Monday morning yesterday. As usual, Erin and I were about 10 minutes late to school. Today was an entirely different story. I spent 45 minutes trying to wake her up, while I rushed around and got ready. Nope. Shirtless in my bed, she snoozed comfortably while I finally decided we weren’t making it there today. I had a Dr’s appt at 10:20am, and I’m trying to get her dressed 15 minutes before we absolutely have to walk out the door.

Me: “Erin, it’s time to get dressed.”

Erin: “Bacon.”

Me: “Erin, you need to get dressed RIGHT NOW.”

Erin: “Bacon.”

Me: “Are you saying blanket, or bacon? We don’t have any bacon, but you can bring your blanket.”

Erin: (Stomps foot on ground), “BACON.”

Me: “Come onnnnnn. I need you to get dressed. Santa Clause is watching you!”

Erin: (Stomps foot again, just once, because less is more), “BACON.”

Ok, this was almost as much fun as last week, when she did the same thing, but the super cool word was : “Daddy”. Same exact scenario, different key word. Also, this went on much longer than you see here, which is sad. I just argued with a complete crazy person who repeatedly said the word “Bacon” in response to my begging and pleading.

I have lost all threatening power with regards to Santa. She doesn’t flinch. I have no leverage. I’m over Christmas. What good is it if you can’t use it to threaten your children?

It doesn’t matter anyway, because Erin summed it up tonight to Dylan. “I don’t really like Christmas. I like Halloween much more better.”

“MOM-MEEEE! WILL YOU WIPE MY BOT-TOMMMM?!”

I yelled this from my Mom’s bathroom the other day. I wanted her to relive the moment as I live it, EVERY. SINGLE. DAY. In ways like this, I try to remind my Mom just how much fun I (probably) was when I was little!  It’s always awesome to hear that phrase shouted from the bathroom. Daily. Our little Erin is quite predictable when she trots into the bathroom and shuts the door. We know exactly what she will yell, and we wait for it like a countdown, but sometimes we don’t know “who” will be the Chosen One. Mommy? or…..Daddy? Always on the edge of our seats!

Anyway, my Mom recently turned 70. She’s a long way away from those good ‘ol days of raising us kids. She and my Dad sit back and marvel  at chuckle at me and my siblings as we rear our own. Actually, my Mom still enjoys parenting all of us to the utmost of her ability, while my Dad has been known to wink at me a time or two and say, “What goes around, comes around.” So, when it came time to plan for the party, my sister-in-law and I tried to talk my Mom into a nice, quiet dinner for Adults Only for her birthday; we know how rowdy our bunch can get. “Nope!”, she insisted. “I want to be surrounded by my grandchildren and just have pizza, and play games!”

We indulged her. Except, only half the grandkids could come. (The loud ones.)

Grandma is 70! 062

This photo was taken before multiple Flash (the hamster) “pettings”, a mostly mild concussion from son hitting his head on the floor while roughhousing, and serious shirtless dance moves to current music + Michael Jackson music (ALWAYS current). (The caterpillar dance move is still a hit at parties, by the way.)

Grandma is 70! 088

Example of shirtless dance move by the Honey Badger. Skirt is also on backwards.

Flash makes an appearance at the party. Erin is showing him her orange while he watches "Elf" with her.

Flash makes an appearance at the party. Erin is showing him her orange while he watches “Elf” with her. He LOVES that movie.

At one point, the noise in the room from 4 hyped-up grandkids was just too much, and I looked at my Mom & Dad and yelled, “We could be having a really nice, QUIET dinner right about now!” And, my Mom replied, “THIS is what I wanted!” Truly, she did want all of the chaos. And, that is beautiful.

My Mom’s heart has taken a licking, and keeps on ticking. Despite the many challenges she has faced, she is with us still. And, her grandchildren are the MOST important part of her life. Eight grandchildren – from 21 yrs. of age, to 3yrs, she’s had a major impact on all of their lives. I think she had a fabulous time on her birthday. PLUS, she got to go home to her own peace and quiet, and hop right into bed. And, that’s how it should be. (My husband would stop me right here and say that I was lying. That she didn’t really hop into bed, she climbed.)

So, I wonder what it was like for my mother, being a “Mom” to my own 3 year-old Me. Was I the original Honey Badger? Was I a complete lunatic, like Erin? Did I talk incessantly without taking a breath, as well? I doubt it. She broke the mold. I think it’s absolutely bizarre how tiny we are when our personalities develop. Erin is only 3, but she is just the absolute most fun. I just wish I could get inside her little brain for a second and see the world through her eyes. I bet I would be amazed at what I saw.

Poor Baby

Christmas is drawing near, and so is the end of Baby’s stint here on earth, I’m afraid. Baby is Erin’s doll. She goes practically everywhere with us. (See example from Halloween here.) Baby has had it pretty good, despite being perpetually dirty, and never having any clothes on. These small imperfections matter not. She is lacking in a couple of areas, though; she doesn’t eat and she doesn’t crap her pants. Erin is asking for Baby Alive for Christmas. Or, Baby Shits Her Pants, as my sister calls her. It’s only a matter of time before somebody puts Baby in the corner. Permanently.

Yesterday, Erin, Baby, and I went to the park. I took the time to document what might possibly be one of Baby’s last hurrahs. I feel kind of sorry for her. As you will see, she had a really great time with us.

Baby on the slide. Weee!

Baby on the swing. I think she likes the swing best because HB sends her flying so high.

Baby on the rings. She doesn’t really care for the rings, but she rarely stands up for herself. Like never.

Sadly, I think she will miss the choke hold from the Honey Badger most of all.

Well, that’s it for our fun day at the park. We have other pictures, but those are just between us. It’s been a fun ride, Baby. We’ll see you on the flip side. Or we’ll see you flipped over, or on your side, under the bed, or stashed in the corner closet, come December 25th.

You’ve been a heck of a pal.

Pants on Fire

The Honey Badger and I head into the girl’s restroom on our way out of preschool today. There are two stalls. She clearly strides towards the one on the right, so I head to the one on the left. Disgruntled, she says from her closed stall door, “*I* was going to go in THAT one.” Oh well, I say, she can choose this one next time.

A minute or so later, I’m washing my hands at the sink. It’s awfully quiet in the stall on the right. One might actually be pretending to be a statue in there, based on visual evidence of two legs firmly planted on the ground, not moving, and certainly not dangling from the toilet. I can tell that we are having an impromptu standoff. Suddenly, I hear and see commotion between the two stalls. There is a blonde haired honey badger on all fours: stomach, hands, legs and feet gratuitously touching every nasty ass square inch of the tile floor, army crawling from her stall on the right, to the more desirable one on the left.

“ERIN!!!! NO! We don’t CRAWL on the ground like that! GROSS! Come on, honey!!”

“Yes, we do! It says right here on this door, Mommy! It says, ‘Please, everybody, crawl on the ground to the other bathroom’. It says it right here on this door!”

She set the bar for bold-faced lies today. I’d like to see what might top this. It was pretty impressive.

Heavy Petting

Erin is completely, utterly, recklessly, 100% infatuated with Flash, her brother’s hamster. Dylan has been at his ‘other’ Dad’s house this weekend, so he has been spared the flagrant love affair. So far. He has no idea the extent of her crushing devotion to his pet. I am awakened every morning to a tiny, sweet whisper, and a tug on my arm, “Mommy?…… Mommy? I wanna go pet Fuh-lashhh!”  It’s such a simple statement. With many, many, many inconspicuous undertones. Such an awesome thing to wake up to. Of course I would love to torture the hamster, in the name of petting, prior to my first cup of coffee. Sean had the pleasure of hearing those sweet words Saturday morning and early this Sunday morning. I get to do it 5 days a week and he’s only relegated to 2. That’s not counting the multitude of times during the day that she requests to pet Flash. She’s under his spell. And, poor Flash, he’s under lock & key. He’s in the slammer until he gets monitored visitation from the Badger and her keeper.

Definitions of “To Pet” as per the Honey Badger: 

1) To fondle, grope.

2) To remove from cage by manhandling.

3) To place into her brother’s toys for amusement, such as: A-Team Van, and Military Transport Helicopter, and, well, see #4.

4) To nearly decapitate in the “Back to the Future” DeLorean (with working lights and actual swinging doors!).

5) To kiss, despite our pleas. “Erin, please don’t kiss Flash on the lips, or anywhere else for that matter.”

6) To fly in her pink airplane.

**Hang on, I need to take a swig from my Banana, Blueberry, Avocado, Kale, Flax Seed, Psyllium Husk, Almond Milk Smoothie that my husband made me a moment ago. **

Ok, I’m back. Erin just asked her Daddy if she could go “Pet Flash” again. We said he was pretty worn out from their playdates yesterday and this morning, sooooo he’s sound asleep.

Before I post pictures of their love in action, I will close with a quote from HB herself. Sean had to leave her alone with Flash for just a second to run into the other room. He shouted to her, “How’s Flash doing, honey!?”.

Her haphazard response:

“He’s still alive, Daddy!”

The exercise ball is intended for….wait for it…..exercise. I suppose he is getting exercise when he is scrambling to get somewhere, like OUT, while she holds it and colors in her coloring book, does a puzzle, or watches a movie.

In case you couldn’t see him before. Here’s his head shot, or profile, or whatever.

“1.21 gigawatts!” I bet Flash would really enjoy watching “Back to the Future” from solitary. I mean, from his exercise ball.

Flash could stand a little bit of a makeover. I wonder if I can find some gold chains, Mr. T style, that would fit around his little neck. Might help his self-esteem.

It’s not fun for Flash unless he has NO WAY OUT of anything, ever.

HB is a gentle giant.

“HE’S FLYYYYINNNGGGGGGGG, MOMMY!!!”

Ahhh, playtime is over and he’s back in the Clink. Erin will stand there and watch him until we drag her away. Bye, Flash!! See you in few, when Erin pleads with us to “pet” you again!

You Must Be 3 Yrs. Old to Read This!

Seriously, if you are reading this, then you are breaking the rules. The nerve! Oh well. It’s OK, I break the rules every day. I typically forget that I’m 37 and start singing songs to “Annie”, then I’m quickly chastised by the Honey Badger: “Mom!! You’re not 3!! You can only sing that song if you’re 3!!”. I almost ruined Halloween for my Little Orphan Erin…in a couple of ways 1) by singing and 2) trying to curl her very, very fine hair, especially when we were already under the gun for time. I’ll illustrate with pictures.

First of all, let’s start with a pic of how the Honey Badger gets her beauty sleep the night before Halloween, to allow her to beautifully transform into Annie the following day:

Not only does she don her PJ’s, robe, and slippers after we return home at 1:00pm in the afternoon, but she wears said clothing, including robe, to bed.

Next, we can’t forget “Baby” when it comes to Halloween. She needs a costume too. HB was sooooooo busy crafting Baby’s costume AND her little puppy’s costume, it was so sweet watching her.  As it turned out, they were so spooky!!!….in a horror movie sort of way.

Baby and Puppy (in the green costume) are “ghosts”.
Translation = “Horrific murderers with sinister costumes, posing as children’s toys.”

Now that those ^ yahoos are set, it’s time to get Annie’s hair curled.

Right about now I think I’m doing a pretty magnificent job on her hair. 🙂

Here is what her hair looked like when I was done:

I’m thinking: The one curl on top turned out really, really nicely. She’s thinking: Don’t you dare start singing.

These guys are ready to get the show on the road.

Me: “Smile guys!!!”
Dylan: “Seriously, Mom, do I really have to smile?”

Now then. After all was said and done, Annie went running door to door and very sweetly sang, “the sun will come out toMORROW!” ; the one little voice that is actually allowed to sing, because she’s 3. It just might be the sweetest voice I’ve ever heard, even when she is disciplining me for not following the rules. Speaking of sweet, she was blown away by all the sweets in her basket. Her loot might have been the most glorious thing she’d ever seen. She was purely in a state of bliss:

*Only hears angels singing and sees bright light upon discovering this piece of candy.*

I’d say it was a pretty successful haul. And, she even let me sing a little bit on the way home because she was in a sugar coma and couldn’t speak. 🙂

Regarding the Honey Badger…

Hi there. This is officially my first post. Many friends and family encouraged this endeavor, mostly as a result of my posts about the Honey Badger. (The Honey Badger would be our 3 year old daughter.) I can’t do a blog just about Erin, although she IS hilarious. My son is also the epitome of humor, but he’s more reluctant to let me “share” online. Since so much encouragement has come from the stories of the Honey Badger, it is only fitting that I share with all of you a story about her that is very near and dear to our hearts. Sean and I have only told this story to a few very close people to us. So far, that’s been family. I usually tell funny stories about her, but I would like to open this blog with a very staid story about her. Perhaps what I am about to say will let my readers know just how much of a treasure she is, and why she is here.

My pregnancies for both my children were painful, problematic, and utterly agonizing. As a result of going into preterm labor with Dylan at 5 months, and prohibiting his early exit up until he was 5 weeks premature, I enjoyed a weekly shot of progesterone in the hip to ensure Erin didn’t try to do the same. We also opted to have all the prenatal testing done, not to entertain any thoughts of abortion should the markers indicate a problem, but to ensure we went into any situation with our eyes wide open. Having said that, approximately 3 months into my pregnancy a huge flag alerted us to the fact that our baby was likely to have Downs Syndrome. This could have been a false positive, so we opted for an amniocentesis to know what we were up against. It took 4 scheduled visits, 3 of those utter disappointments, to get the perfect window where the placenta could “safely” (although there is no guarantee of safety) be plunged with a giant needle, shipped off to the lab, and results back to us. Those results would tell us if we needed to arm ourselves with every weapon at our disposal to make the best life possible for our Downs baby, or breathe a sigh of relief that the test was false. It made no difference to us if he/she was or wasn’t Downs, except for how we would prepare mentally and financially. Speaking of mental, by the 4th visit to have the test done, we were wound pretty tightly and pretty emotionally. So, when the tech asked us if we would like to know the sex of the baby, which up until then we had opted not to find out, we busted out a “YES, PLEASE!”.  It was a girl.  My son begged for a little sister. This was swell, except I only knew I could raise a boy. A tomboy myself when I was little, this was quite a shock to me. My husband was THRILLED.

Now, before I go any further, I want to expand on the wonderful facility that was taking such good care of us during this process: Maternal Fetal Medicine in Indy. Being huge Indianapolis Colts‘ fans, we were pleased to find out that my M.D. there was Lauren Dungy-Poythress. She is (ex) Coach Dungy’s sister. If you ever had respect for that man, wow, you should meet his sister. She is an amazing doctor. I have never met a doctor like her, and my husband feels the same way. To say she is a warm person is an understatement. I can’t even describe the calmness and serenity she brought into every room she walked into. She would put her healing hands on my belly, talking very softly, slowly, intelligently, and made my husband and I feel as though we just left church after we spent time in her presence. I have been in countless numbers of Dr.’s offices in my 37 years. I have never had a near-religious experience with a Dr. like that EVER.

So, when the amnio was done, and we were walking out of the room and wiping tears of joy that it’s a GIRL!, we headed to the check-out to schedule our follow-up meeting for the results. We were stopped right at the back desk by one of the other doctors. This was an older woman, African-American, with a very similar demeanor to Dr. Dungy-Poythress. She was very inquisitive, asking if we knew what the sex of our baby was. We hadn’t even told our family, but we felt comfortable sharing with her. We said, “Yes, we just found out she’s a girl!”. More tears. She very calmly asked me if she could place her hands on my belly. Of course, she was a very calming presence. I invited it. I felt her warm, healing hands upon me, only this was different. She was reflecting on something that meant a great deal to her.  She paused for a moment and looked up at us. She was very intent on what she had to say and looked us straight in the eyes, this old, wise woman. After a pause she said, “She is going to be a very, very strong woman. She will ease the suffering of many.”

This story of Erin’s beginnings still gives us chills.