Tag Archives: children

Our Bundle of Trouble

I haven’t mentioned anything until now because I wanted to know for certain what we were expecting. You’re probably wondering what the hell I’m talking about, huh?

Well, my baby brother and his wife are expecting their first child. I know. I’m going to be an aunt again! My mom is over the moon. My sister is ecstatic. I’m kind of wary. Why? Because baby brother’s baby might end up a total bad ass. Not because of my sister-in-law or my brother, but because he’s our first nephew/grandchild in 20 years. 20 years! I see nothing but spoiling in this child’s future.

When we found out they were expecting, the speculation ran rampant. My brother weighed in at 11 lbs, 15 oz when he was born. He had a full head of hair and the hospital had to raid their toddlers clothes to find him something to wear. My sister-in-law says she wasn’t a very big baby, so she’s hoping their first child won’t turn into babyzilla. Not that we would mind either way. My brother was a sturdy not-so-little thing.

I actually can’t wait for my brother’s reaction to holding the baby for the first time. He’s a big guy (as you can probably tell from his birth weight), so when a newborn’s in the vicinity, he’s almost running the other way. It started with our oldest nephew; he held him because he was made to hold him, but the look on his face was all “ZOMG, I’m going to break it!” Now he has no choice but to hold his child…I’m going to have a camera ready.

Then of course we all wondered what they would have. Would it be a little girl my mom could dress in bows and ruffles ? Or would it be a little boy who I’d have fun buying cool jeans and funny T-shirts for? Well, we found out yesterday they’re having a boy. Aunt Danica is very pleased with the news.

Not that I have anything against girls. The few we have in the family aren’t girly and delicate. No, Ma-Meg (cousin’s 9-year-old) is a horror movie loving, kickboxing Amazon who is nearly as tall as I am. But I worried that a little girl would end up being treated like a little princess. *shuffles her feet* Okay, so I would’ve spoiled her rotten and bought her pink dresses and hair bows and zombie movies, just like I did with Ma-Meg.

A boy though, I can teach about car appreciation. “You see that car? That’s a nice car. 400hp stock. You need to buy your Aunt Danica one of those when you’re rich, okay?” A little boy I can be rough and tumble with and maybe take him skating so he can go all kamikaze on me and try to take me out like a speed-skating demon.

So there you have it. We’re expecting a little boy, which is going to be so much fun since my nephews are too old to be cool anymore. *mumbles* They were okay until they graduated from high school. Now, I wouldn’t mind strangling them. Lucky for them my brother stepped up to the plate and is giving us another little boy to come up with cool nicknames for and make up songs about him.

Congrats to baby brother and sister-in-law. I can’t wait to see what kind of trouble this baby turns out to be!

 

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Kids Are Evil

I didn’t spend much time around the interwebz at all this weekend. From Friday morning until now, I was dealing with broken down cars, birthday parties, aimless roaming, and family. I’m back now though, so it’s all better.

Yes, the car broke down on Friday morning and had to be towed to the dealership. *sniff* I hate being dependent on other people for transportation, but my loving godson was nice enough to drive his nanny around town after his college finals. Yay. I got to spend time with him. He’s not evil. Most of the time.

No, the evil kids were 9-year-olds. My cousin’s daughter’s birthday was on Saturday at a putt-putt golf course. It started out well. The birthday girl actually hugged me in front of her friends and was chatting with me about everything. She even showed me her “devil horns” because she apparently likes Gene Simmons…and tie-dyed shirts…and peace signs. She’s 9.

After the singing (which was awful), the cake (which was too tempting for me to ignore), the entire clan headed to the course. Eight kids and twelve adults. I thought for sure I’d be heckled by my cousins and their husbands, even my mother. But no…I was brought low by a 9-year-old girl named Danica. Ironic, isn’t it?

We were walking to the course when she looked up at me with her cute little face and asked how old I was. It’s my fault that she told me the truth…or at least what a 9-year-old girl scout fascist believes is the truth: she said I looked 40 (I still have several years until that auspicious day). My sister, who is 42, thought that was hilarious which of course, encouraged the torment. Next thing I know, the other 9-year-old demons started throwing out ages. 60…70…120. Yeah, I was thinking about using my putter for something other than golfing.

We let the kids play ahead of us and things went well. Sure, there were moments when I expected someone to throw a relative in the water hazard. And yes, my cousins tormented each other by kicking each other’s balls into the water, but no one fell in. It was fun, no one went to the hospital, and no one snapped. Well, sort of.

The kids were two holes ahead of us and it just so happened that the hole we were on was right next to the demons. I was lining up for my awesome shot when one of the demons said, “You’re still on that hole?” I may have pointed my putter at her and declared, “No talking across the course!” Being scared to death as she was, she rolled her eyes and shrugged before heading back to the other demons.

The moral of this story? I’m glad my cats and dog can’t talk. Was I really angry? Nope, not at all. It was an experience and it just further proved my belief that not having children was best for my mental health.

How was your weekend?

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