A year ago today I wrote a nice birthday blog to my dad thanking him for being my Dad.
This year I will keep it short and sweet. Here are the pros & cons of being my dad
Pros:
1. Duh...I'm his daughter
Cons:
2. I'm his daughter
Happy birthday old man. You're still stubborn as shit after two bowls of white rice, but I love you anyway.
HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!!
Ps I'm so glad I didn't get your ears. That is all.
Enjoy this little video of me waking the Kracken on her birthday. Yes, I am cruel & enjoy this a little too much, but I love her so.
Yep...another year has gone by and my Ginger Kracken is 14. I lost a bet to her today because she knew Arthur was an aardvark. I thought he was a fancy mouse in sneakers. She said he was half human and half aardvark. The visual still disturbs me if you know what I mean.
Let's get back to the birthday girl...
From the moment of conception Sydney was trouble. She was the epitome of a pregnancy from HELL. Ever heard of P.U.P.P.S? No, right? Let me give you a little summary. I am allergic to the paternal cells the baby sheds while in utero. In other words. I am allergic to her father...
PUPPS is a rash you can get from your neck to your ankles. How lucky for me it doesn't affect your face, hands or feet because with Sydney that was the only place on my body I DIDN'T get this rash.
Now when I was pregnant with Madzilla, I did not get PUPPS until right when I was having her on ONE leg and if you notice Madzilla is more me than she is her father. Sydney is well...more him. Twins...
At just a few weeks into my pregancy the rash had started right by my crotch. Seriously?? Then it spread. EVERYWHERE. Every nook and cranny of my body. Anytime I even got the itching (pun intended) for another child after Sydney, all one had to say was...RASH and it snapped me right back into reality. It was bad. It was crying, freezing cold oatmeal baths, steroids, sarna cream, benedryl every single day. This kid was going to kill me from the inside out. Other than the normal pregnancy issues like peeing your pants, being as big as a whale and I was, heartburn that made me eat tums & prevacid like a crackhead, & rapid tachycardia just to name a few...OK RT is not normal but from my whale size, it could not be avoided. The Dr. even told me to drink wine because she was giving me contractions very early on. Imagine me huge at 7 months having dinner at the Carmins River Inn and ordering myself a big ass glass of wine. Just the look on the wait staff was fun for me. Between the constant Benedryl and glasses of wine I am surprised Sydney wasn't immediately put into a 12 step program at birth.
On June 30th...The Kracken was born...with a highlighted mohawk, a love for pop tarts, horses & naps.
So what was the first thing Madzilla did when she saw her new baby sister? Wacked her right on the head. From that day, I knew their relationship would be forged with immense love...yea right.
So here we are 14 years later and I am still itchy. I break out in hives at the thought of waking her for the next four years of High School. She just doesn't like waking up in the morning and doing so is a fate worse than waving a chocolate bar in my face then walking away with it.
As a mother you pray for good things to happen for your children. I pray she starts using an alarm clock come September. The Kracken Kronicles do not end here. This year was just the beginning of my morning madness with her. I hope you enjoy reading about it as much as I enjoy writing it. Happy Birthday Sydney. I love you more than food. I swear.
Enjoy these photos of the Kracken I have added...
As always thank you for stopping by! See you on the Flip Side with spotlights on some of my favorite comedians like Mike Keegan and Mel Englert coming soon.
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Thank you for all that you've taught me. Things like at the age of five that the street sign that reads "No Outlet" means no sidewalks. I believed you until I was 22 years old and made a fool. But really have you ever seen sidewalks where there are no outlet signs? I havent and I bet all of you will look now.
You also taught me that frozen eggrolls never expire. Even when the shanghai paper looks like it wrapped a mummy from 3000 BC. Those little lumpias still taste delicious. This goes for all frozen meat in the extra filipino freezer downstairs in the scary haunted basement.
Thank you for making spaghetti with red sauce on the day I got my first period and announcing it to everyone at the dinner table. Dad you freakin laughed. You're so lucky I didn't know what balls were yet. The expression on my little brothers face was amazing. I was hoping he would vomit but it didnt happen. One more thing about my period...you didnt teach me how to put the pad on and I was sticking them to my vag for a week before I realized I was doing it wrong. Also, I didnt think I was supposed to be giving myself a brazilian with my ginormous Kotex Maxi Pad was kind of a hint.
When it comes to food though Mom, you really know how to do it. I mean who can take a few things out of the fridge and make a ten course meal. You may get botulism so be careful. Also stay away from the mystery pot. Especially if you see eyeballs or even a tail. An ox tail that is.
Thank you for letting me suck the icing from the icing tube everytime you decorated a birthday cake. What great practice I was getting...I see what you did there mom...
Thank you for never warning me when you made the dreaded tripe soup. I have never smelled anything so disgusting in my life and I would rather eat the buffalo dung. Normal people do not boil tripe.
Thank you for always buying the frosted CHERRY Pop Tarts. They were Prince Ben's favorite, not mine. I am NOT bitter. NOT AT ALL.
Thank you for always threatening to eat my pets. Where did all the cats go?? Oh yea they were shot...You know who you are & I know you are reading this ;)
Thank you for not letting me look in the mirror when the dog mauled my face off on the way to the hospital. I probably would have died.
Thank you for teaching me tagalog at such a young age. Sorry nothing really stuck except "Ben ay may bantot puwit" Ben has a stinky ass. ehh close enough.
Thank you for always being a wonderful grandmother to my daughters even though Madeline swears she is your favorite...hmmm
Thank you for always wearing so much jewelry that Mr.T didnt have shit on you. I hate jewelry. You have saved Sean a lot of money.
Although I dont really look like you, thank you for the slant in my eyes and the height in my cheek bones and the smoothness in my skin. I hope I look as good as you at age 60 but since I am half white that will never happen. Lucky beotch.
Thank you for raising me Asian and making sure I didn't feel different. Even though everyone else saw us that way. You made sure I felt like me.
Thank you for making me walk everyday to the deli and post office with you. I would probably be a fat obese kid had I not. Maybe I should start that up again.
Sometimes, I can't understand a freakin word you are saying but thats Ok, the only words I want to hear are, "Honey I made you butterball cookies" & "I bought you clothes" & "I made you Grandmas muffins, don't tell Dad"
It couldn't have been easy raising a child like me. A smart ass, smart mouthed, stubborn, begrudged, spiteful, gorgeous girl hahaha, with a sick twisted mind thats always racing in circles like a freakin merry go round. You did good Ma...
Oh yea thank you for always making me tortas and corned beef & potatoes alpo style at my beckon call. Asian girl probs.
I can go on and on but I will save the best stories for future blogs. hehehe
You are an inspiration and set a great example of what a wonderful mother and wife should be. You have raised the bar to a level I could never achieve. I could never be as patient as you are. Thanks dad. I lub you so pucking much Mama...
Stop fuckin cryin.
Happy Birthday! Enjoy the pics...
When I decided to start a blog, my daughter Maddie gasped. Said that old people don't write blogs. I am NOT old. She said she would never read my blogs unless I wrote about how awesome she is.
So here we go...
My inquisitive child recently asked me what it was like find out I was pregnant with her. Do I lie and say it was the happiest day of my life? It was not, but it was a day that changed my life forever. I was completely shocked. I cried and cried and cried. I was young just two days shy of my 23rd birthday and not married. Bad girl. I was not ready. She asked me what I was thinking. My life was over. I told her I went over my choices in my head. She looked at me like, what do you mean you thought about your choices?? We all have choices. It is our right. It is my body. I told her that when I was asked what I wanted to do, I told her the only thing I could and said I was having you. She was shocked by the fact that we thought about it. She said, "Obviously you made the right choice to have an amazing child." This was true and amazing is an understatement.
I have never been one to sugar coat anything. You will never hear me say how wonderful pregnancy is or how much i enjoyed having a child growing inside of me. Being pregnant sucked but I will have a seperate blog about that.
Dear Madeline,
You came to us November 9th at 4:31 pm. I think. One of you was born at this time. Sucked out by a Dyson and you were blue, purple even with the cord wrapped around your neck not breathing. I yelled to make you scream. You were born a procrastinator. You still are...just like me.
Yep, You were beautiful. Just as I had predicted. Big violet-blue eyes that you got from your Daddy. A full head of light brown hair. Grandma thought you looked filipino. Delusional. You were long and not chubby as I had imagined. Then I saw them...Holy Mother of God. Your feet were HUGE and so were your hands. The nurses laughed at you. You held your own bottle at two days old. You were extraordinary, but you didn't like to sleep. What a pain in my ass.
You were easy to raise. I never spoke to you like you were a baby. I always told it like it was with you no matter what your age and I always will. I am not sure why I never babied you, but I hope it doesnt backfire on me. So you called me a bitch at age 3. You are so much like me. Your wit and sarcasm is spot on and I enjoy our daily banter even though sometimes I want to punch you in the uterus.
I love laughing with you and even more so, I love laughing at you. Can't help it, I am mean like that.
As my first born, I wanted to put you in every sport or activity I could. You didn't care for anything really until I put you on a horse for the first time and you were a natural. That's my little panker...
You were such a great little equestrian. A champion really. Our champion. Nobody could touch you in that ring when you brought your A game which was 99 percent of the time. The day we gave you and Sydney your pony Stella was one of the greatest moments of my life. You cried with excitement and happiness. Sydney of course screamed at the top of her lungs with jealousy wanting to know where her pony was. It was hilarious. I am sorry you lost her. She was your best friend and I know her death changed you.
I am so proud of your accomplishments. You had the ability to go into a ring and take it all. You're an artist and a good one. A gift from your father of course. You didn't get that shit from me.
I always had a camera in your face and you were always prepared with a smile. You were and still are very photogenic. I am not saying this because I am your mother and feel obligated to tell you how beautiful you are. You really are. You never look bad. Ok there was that one year when you were very sick. You could go to the barn with your hair up in a ratty bun and still look gorgeous. Lucky bitch. You have grown up to be a lovely young lady. Im so proud of who you have become. Except the lazy never cleaning your room, hate to do chores, huff and puffing part. You gotta work on that.
Lets talk about your feet. They are no joke. Gigantic. They are why we call you Madzilla. You would trample over everything with your giant pods. Your hands are alien like. Somebody will be shocked when they get a huge bitch slap from you.
In a little less than a year you will go off to college. School Sucks. I am so happy you are taking your core classes at home before you go off to become a large animal vet. I dont think I could ever handle you going away so soon even though I'll have had 18 years with you. You're my daughter and it will never be enough time.
Dont worry there will be more blogs about you and your awesomeness. I am holding out for the good stuff. This was just a special one. Happy Birthday to my spawn of satan. You are without a doubt Awesome, but even more so, you are the heart that beats outside of my body. I chose wisely...
Love,
Your old, immature & childish mother...
Enjoy some older pics of us. See you on the Flip Side ;)
