Lately Mother Nature and I have had somewhat of a falling out. I mistakenly thought we were homegirlz now that I've created, carried, and birthed another human life into this world, but alas, we are not. I guess all good friends tend to differ on certain subjects, and old Mama Nature and I differ on this: IT'S TOO F-ING COLD AND RAINY FOR MID-APRIL. Now, I'm not sure what she wants from me, perhaps I should have shot 2 babies and 2 placentas forth from my uterus to warrant a weightier opinion on the matter. And all I have to say to that is "Mother Nature, eat shit". You have forever caused my boobs and my ankles to be next door neighbors, and I can't sacrifice much more than that.
So in light of our recent crappy weather, I took the bambino to the Children's Museum of Manhattan yesterday and I think my feelings about it can be summed up in the song: The Wind Beneath My Wings. This place makes McDonald's Playspace look like the Humane Society. And at this point in the winter (Because yes, fun fact: it's still winter in New York!) I'm not above taking him to the Humane Society and dropping him off for a little tummy time. He'd probably like it better than our matchbox apartment right now anyway. But thankfully, the CMOM saved us from flea bites and Children's services investigations, always a good thing.
The entire 3rd floor is a magical land of playthings for babies and crawlers especially. He spent 3 hours there and would have kept it up had not either of the following 2 things happened, which they did. 1. We'll just call her "hyperactive", hyperactive 6 year old Chuck Norris's him to the face with her shoes on. (Let me interpret that for any childless readers of this site: A GROWN woman tried to KILL my baby). And #2. I go completely apeshit on the grown woman's Manny and almost get arrested before deciding to quietly take my leave of CMOM.
In retrospect, no I do not expect that Grif will never get rough-housed or kicked, slapped, pushed around by other children. I guarantee he will. However, my issue is with the Manny and his utter inability to have a motherloving clue what he should be doing with the hyperactive 6 year old. Hey Manny, possibly taking a hopped up second grader to the baby room is not such a good idea, else you appreciate your ass being kicked by wackjob mom's on a regular basis.
You're Welcome,
The Management
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