Cooo….what is that? It’s followed by an awe with low voice excitement…Baby’s first sounds; he’s already starting to ask politely – well, sort of. Interpreting his sounds is easier than writing the expression options, of which it could be, might be, sounds like and is combined with – although very possible. Punishment of an infant or a three-month-old baby for not completing his sentences or phrases, or words would be fair. That would be to mimick baby and flood him with smiles until he decides to explain himself. Being the leader that I am, I naturally intuitively discuss what is expected of him, using old books, other babies, and what I hope for, knowing and understanding his surprises for me are on his own personal timeline. Early smiles are typically expected within a few weeks. I realized I never showed him or explained to him how to smile, I just did it often and let him know it was a life requirement and so were tears. We discussed his sleeping routine and dining schedule – two ounces every two hours for a growth rate of what seemed suitable. My main concern was losing the baby weight, which only took about three or four days, and he lost about two pounds in three days – so we were already on the same track with an internalized motherly freakout. It’s a fragile time, very specific measurements, observations, especially being born prematurely, which technically two weeks early is not considered premature – it’s called arriving early. Premature babies are usually born a month or earlier and considered more fragile – at least that’s what we thought or understood, but I think things have changed. If nothing more, we know that diapers are standard sized and must be changed, as are onesies, nightgowns, and bedsheets and this seems to be timed closely after the formula has been completely consumed and partially spit up or burped to make sure the esophagus and mother’s sense of smell still works. Stinky things happen for the first year and a half and this design requires additional products and timely workmanship with caring responsiveness, sometimes rapid, quick change and other times, slow and combined with story telling or explanation. This is how the baby learns the difference between doing things quickly and taking our time handling matters. If it was always a fast change completely focused on getting the job done and back into dry clothes, then they both might miss out on careful selection of clothing options. If I could go back, I’d certainly explain myself to him better. Would you prefer the baby blue plain onesie with the snaps on the left or the forty-niners onesie because it is Sunday and the game starts at 10am? We don’t have a matching bib, but if we’re careful, I’m certain we’ll make it to ten o’clock without another potential stain or wardrobe change. The outfit doesn’t match the bouncy seat, or Mr. Man’s chair, but we can improvise or just allow a minor fashion excusable incident without the police, but Mommy is still subject to life in prison or jail, according to the person who would like to be your legal Father. We’ve discussed the differences and if you need a refresher, it’s biological, legal custodian, guardian all subject to DNA testing – or further explanation of sexual relations, which includes criminal acts where a young man can learn very much how to protect himself from the same kind of situation years down the road or at his next visit at the daycare. Having children or a child or a baby, infant, toddler, or mini-me no longer requires sex, according to experts who think people magically appear on earth, like his first daycare classmate. She looked like she could be his sister; blond haired blue eyed cutie. He needs to wait until he learned to walk first, which again, was not my decision, but his under my leadership and idea of ‘the sooner, the better.’ He began walking at three months, so I guess this means he’s ready to have a wife and children on the way himself, and that would be fine, as long as he’s ready to pay the bills, which we did not discuss. Another Mommy-freakout; oh my God, a child father who begins having children in his earliest years without paying the bills – line up the Financial Advisors and Bankruptcy Lawyers. He was explained this, in fact, he observed the bill payment process and understands the Utility Bill, Cable Bill, Rent, Mortgage, Grocery Bill, temporary costs, investments, purchases, and even Wages and Taxes, including the 1040A vs. the 1040EZ Form; his existence being critical to the annual return, which is not at the start of the year, unless we are ones who wait to file near the deadline in April. He knows we’re early risers and financially independent, single family of two with many hopefuls who would love to be Mommy’s sugar baby. That might require explanation. Perhaps annual doctor visits are no longer necessary, and we can take care of the hopeful Father with a long permanent stay at a very special one for 12 years of education about fragility and the necessity for body parts, donations, blood, schedules, and quiet time. Perhaps the baby might enjoy learning about the silencer, with options – a pillow over his tiny head or a screw on silencer accessory to a brand new glock 45 or 19 and teach that man to never try to silence Mommy again or force her to look at his face while experiencing severe sleep deprivation while in recovery.
It’s a good day to learn about life and death, as well as love and protection. Mommy’s professional interests are vast and of great value; perhaps another reason the criminal sought to keep her out of the office and enjoy continuous frequent visits to hospitals. His own Mother, supposedly a teacher, couldn’t even buy the baby learning materials. How sad that I can’t just blow dry her head off to the soap scum filled bathtub of her filthy adult child. My own baby at twelve months could scrub and clean more responsibly than him. The baby needs to learn what a dirtbag is and how we can look nice in a suit for a day and have a few months of healthy performances, but his love will last about as long as a tealight candle. I should’ve explained teething over a cup of tea; along with candles and incents, but some things are just blatantly obvious and others very private practices for privileged adults who appreciate and not rapidly depreciate. Annual asset inventory was not necessary for us, yet offered as renter’s insurance, in event all was lost and the nasty hopeful Father got his wish and demand for everything. He can have everything, in fact, if he is responsible for taking care of my adorable baby, then he should have everything and he should be forced to complete forms to assess the value of every possession, its use, history, importance, sentiments, and comfort levels of a clean home of a well-established professional woman, of whom I am most certain, he’s never had the pleasure of knowing or experiencing. His sex organs should be permanently cut off and so should his fat mother and roommate. Seriously, they border on sloth in my eyes. Perhaps my monthly investment and his allowance can be budgeted and spent on a regular housekeeper for only the areas the baby uses, or better spent on a contract killer, paid for baby removal and replacement services to a more loving and sincere family – legally known as adoption and not to that Fat Bitch who thinks she can throw her weight around making demands and publishing his photographs online. You’ve never heard of this kind of a Mommy. Perhaps her fat ass would enjoy double barrel racing with a shot-gun-shot straight to the forehead? Sounds great honey, when do we start? I love the sound of gunshots and the smell of powder. Some idiots actually think these are temporary feelings associated with labor. They can take their fat asses straight to the local barber shop for permanent or frequent and continuing slashed prices of new and used tires, tubes, and breaks. We should learn how to turn those off or send them on a nice trip to the mountains with a few surprises with adrenaline rushes, teenage news and crime reports, with likeminded ill-fated drivers of new special victims. A new educational module on endangerment and recklessness or neckless turkey gravy with a side of shiny silver cufflinks. A large helping is required – not another obesity epidemic or teaching moment for adult idiots living life as closet fat faggots modeling swim trunks for Men’s Health.
Perhaps they all need a visit to the childhood friend’s house with a history report of bad girls capitalizing on injuries; their own friends, only to enter a sick beauty contest of who’s breast are larger and looks better in a bikini. Fuck you and go sterilize baby binkies bitch. We’ll discuss your tile flooring and fresh new kitchen after the bitchen stops and the butchering begins. Profanity is another subject called cussing, which Mommy authorizes one day per week called Fucking Friday on the Fourth Friday from Four to Five, celebrated annually in May, after Mother May I. I hate fucking Friday’s because the weekend is fun-filled and jam packed with sun-tans, blow up toys, and beverages. Gosh, this sounds like the worst life in the universe. Yeah, those stay at home, constantly bitchy Mothers who can’t keep their houses clean, their children’s dicks straight, and their glasses decorated, and pants pressed and private parts groomed for regular engagements. I guess they are still trying to learn how to be a walking, talking, model of virtuosity, or on secret chases for ashes and lash curlers. Honestly, I think they were looking for a way to destroy Mommy’s beauty, and baby’s as well. A hostess cupcake with a candle would’ve been nice, at the least, but not without the demands of a fat ass Burger King former employee hoping for bikini watching schedules and baby girl sitting duty. Clean your nasty selves and stay more than 1000 feet away from all forms of human life, even those who are like you or ‘like’ you. Pimple faces need not apply or show themselves and that includes former ones who think they might have the keys to the magic kingdom to the Ice Ages. Rot in the desert and take that short haired animal judge with you.
By the way, those Blue-Eyed Beautiful Lashes are mine, but you can keep them forever, knowing I admire them and all of your other perfection in a reprinted black and white photograph. I might just be your best stalker in the Universe, of a special kind that lives over 3000 miles away wondering if you grew up to be a handsome man. There is still time left. It’s tragic what happened. I don’t cry every day, only every other or every few days. Writing helps, but my creativity seems to be non-existent; stuck on hateful and vengeful emotions and wishful thinking of retribution and justice.
Did I tell you about one of the men that I admire the most? He’s so handsome – and I mean we are talking about stop everything, even breathing for a few seconds, and think about love at first sight. Is he the silent view of zero charm? Handsome in a suit with a deep sexy voice, perfect career, and finely cleaned and pressed suit only? What do his boxers contain? Immovable body parts laying on lace lined coffins, ready for shipment home to his lovely wife for burial? I don’t usually find corpses that attractive, but he is a vision from heaven. I just hope I have not been assigned to raise him too. How can a man who only speaks in a professional capacity be the love of all mankind? The imagination is an amazing place to dwell with him, if he could find a way to perform as a sexy husband instead of a pseudo-boss with special reappearing performances in high places, like a desk above my bed in my bedroom. What a sight. He must not know about my true office romance; it’s not that he should be permitted to know, but that he should already know and be gifted with both knowing and doing. Unfortunately, the past gets in the way and the ungifted, untalented, low quality, cheating executives, and husbands of others appear in his place; again, another regurgitated reminder of bad decision making and lying down for the sake of consistency and protection from diseases lurking in the single sector.
I prefer life in black and white, but not in racial body composition and lovers’ knots. A life of single victimization? It appears to be so. The emotions are good, but reality is better when there is a reason or formerly referred to as a light at the end of the tunnel. Making love to the dearly departed? Is this a one-time event or lifelong relationship that surpasses life and death itself, into the great beyond of timelessness and lawless perfection? She and He exist somewhere in deep passion jam packed with knowledge, secrets, and powers they never knew they had together performing as one.
From a distance, there is harmony and in another place, there is holy matrimony.