Yeehaw, it’s spring.
So, I’m done being a whiny little bitch–thank god, I was starting to annoy the frig out of myself. Back to drawing. This was an experiment in pastels and charcoal, two mediums I’ve always been a little scared of, because they’re pretty messy and unforgiving and I’ve got youngish person’s palsy. But I think Mr. Szymtko turned out pretty okay… I’d marry him. If I wasn’t already in a lifelong union. And if he couldn’t do better than me. ::sigh:: Universe, why you put all these obstacles in the way of my love?!
In other mews: It’s The Worst Idea Ever, but I did it anyway, checked out one of those stupid parenting websites on what my kid should be doing now that he’s passed twelve months. And here it is!
Starting to walk: Nope.
Starting to talk: Haha. Nope.
Starting to feed himself with a spoon: 0_0 Are these people nuts?? Why don’t I just put a friggin’ chainsaw in his hand and be done with it?
Getting really freaked out when we leave him, because he loves us and knows by now that he’s dependent on us: Ahaha, I have yet to witness (–) care that we leave–I think when he sees us leaving, he secretly hopes that these clowns are not his parents and that once we go, the king and queen will finally step out of the shadows and restore him to his rightful place as Crown Prince…
So what, he’s not doing a lot of things on that list, does that mean my beautiful little (–) is …slow, or something? Mais non, mon ami! Behold the skillz they seemed to have overlooked for their little compilation…
Gourmet: I think my kid might be the world’s youngest foodie. He just turned one year, but he eats Korean, Japanese, Chinese, Indian, Italian… I believe he senses that if he doesn’t love these foods, I will throw him in the river and start over. Ha. Ha. If anyone from Child Services is reading this, that’s a JOKE. Please don’t come knock on my door and try to take my kid away from me.
Parkour (for the uninitiated, it’s the French martial art of running away and (–) has a brown belt in it).
Sleeper: One year old and he’s sleeping through the night. Praise the Lord!
Flirter: Equal opportunity flirter. Man, woman, young, old. Does not matter to (–). I think if you can make a crusty German cop smile and get all goofy, that shows some serious skill. He does this thing where he looks at the person from the side, then drops his head and smiles up at them with just the right mixture of coy and shy… Makes them melt and I roll my eyes thinking, oh please. He’s NEVER smiled at me like that–probably because he knows I’m up to his bag of tricks. ‘Mark my words’ a good friend of ours exclaimed, while at our favorite Mexican watering hole (Joe Penis). ‘When he’s older, that kid’s going to get so much @#(%@#, you’re going to weep.’
(–) waved his quesadilla and nenned his ascent.