Thursday, September 18, 2008


I'm a big believer in telling Little Man that I'm proud of him. I know that he knows that I love him and that I'm proud of him, but I'm a big believer that you can't hear it too much. And so even though there are things that I feel he should freaking be doing anyway, like sleeping in his own bed, when we go through two nights of him sleeping in our bed but willingly sleeps all night in his own bed on the third, I'm sure to tell him how proud I am of him on that third day. And then I let him have a cigarette for demonstrating that he's such a big boy.

I myself am a craver of compliments, and the fastest way to my heart is to give me genuine compliments on something I do. Fastest way for me to despise you and lose all respect for you is for me to work my ass off on something, despite being nauseous and 8 weeks pregnant, making a project so successful that the Wikipedia people are calling for my picture to put next to the word "successful" and you don't bother telling me "good job." But you do to the idiot who did absolutely nothing and who you complained to me about during the entire project.

That last example, of course, is completely hypothetical.

The other night, Little Man and I played base ball for almost an hour, alternating pitching and batting, although he was happy to do all of my base running for me, because at this point, the only thing I'm willing to run for is the ice cream truck. And Tom Brady naked.

Eventually, Little Man managed to tire himself out, which is a little like telling you that McCain and Obama were caught making out behind a dumpster, it just doesn't happen.

Little Man requested an episode of The Backyardigans, and since the Biggest Loser was on I agreed, since I am a big loser, but in a different way and love to sit on the couch and watch people sweat until they vomit. Because really? I so couldn't work out four hours straight normally, let alone 7.5 months pregnant.

I went to turn on the television in the bedroom for Little Man and he asked for a specific episode, but since I was distracted, I kept putting on the wrong one. After three tries, I finally got the right episode on and I let out a satisfied "There!"

Little Man nodded at me and said "Good job, Mama. I'm so proud of you."

So we can add to the list that I'm raising my son to be one hell of an appreciative VP some day. His minions better shower me with gifts, is all I'm saying.




Eternal Sunshine said...

Awww, you're setting a good example for him!

I love when my kids turn those good lessons back at me...

Wonderful World of Weiners said...

That kiddo's going places!!

Hallie :)

Nina Diane said...

awww...such a sweet boy! We do the same with our grandson, who has disabilities......he hears how proud we are of him a dozen times a day!! On the other hand, me.....I might hear it twice a year! ahhahahaha.....

Julie said...

I enjoyed your "purely hypothetical" example! : )

Why is it that we enjoy watching people sweat their butts off while eating snacks? We eating snacks not them. Or is that just me?

the planet of janet said...

good job, little man! i'm proud of YOU!

Burgh Baby said...

You are looking mighty fantastic these days. Just thought I would tell you.

Oh, and good job today.

Anglophile Football Fanatic said...

Good for Little Man. He's so good at brown nosing, eh? You're training him well, Momma. And, pride goeth before a fall, right?

Jamie said...

Sweet baby Jesus....your still pregnant!?!?!?

When will it ever end? Oh and I better end this with a "good job" so I don't feel your prego rath!!!
Thanks for letting me know I am not the only crazy women out there wandering the streets searching for cupcakes and icecream!

Bren said...

I love it when they say things like that. Lets you know you're saying and doing the right things. And that they're listening.

My little guy always tells me "Good job." :)

Texan Mama @ Who Put Me In Charge said...

I'm loving your blog. I have no idea how I found it. I accidentally hit a button somewhere in my reader and it just jumped to your blog. Seriously! You have a great sense of humor. And, I am also a Texan but not a native. So I can relate, well maybe sometimes. I've got ya in my reader!