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Wednesday, August 20, 2008

Why Booger-Eating is Fun, and Other Life Truths

Zachary, Sweetheart! Listen up - it's Mom's turn to talk.

As you know, you turned a wise old ONE year old yesterday - hurray for you! I get the sense that celestial baby years go by as fast as dog years, and that you're really like eight or nine compared to earthling baby. At any rate, yesterday was your birth/death day, your dirthday. And to celebrate, I get to feel like a Mom again for a couple of days, which - although I'll usually deny it - is one of the coolest sensations ever.

You're now at that age where you might start wondering about the birds and the bees, asking awkward questions that would make many parents squirm, like "why are boogers so fun to eat?" and, of course, the classic: "why did the American people reelect a fucking barf-bag for president?"

Part of feeling like a Mom again means I get to enlighten you with answers to those tough questions and then some. Most important, as a mature one-year-old, you are now old enough to know where you came from. So let me start with that one, a quick life history lesson, because it might be another year before I can muster up the courage and mental stamina to really focus on such questions. Yes, you have to catch me in a Mommyish mood like this in order to get any real dirt. Sorry, kiddo.

Here's what happened a year and a bunch of months ago. Dad and I got drunk at the tavern and did the wild thang, and boom - you happened (ask Dad what the "wild thang" is). You got big inside my belly and the world was a brilliant, rainbow place. Everybody just loved you.

Five weeks before you were supposed to emerge into the world, you got sick, I mean like really, really sick, and the doctors said you were on your way out. By "out," I mean, you were on your way up to where you are now - Baby Heaven, so it really wasn't that bad (for you, anyway). For Dad and me, though, it was the hardest, scariest thing in the world. The doctors told us if we delivered you like normal, you probably wouldn't survive delivery. And even if you did, you would only live for a few miserable days. Or, they told us, we could do this thing called Termination, which meant putting an end to your pain the fastest way possible. And that's what we decided to do.

So, they stuck needle full of Love Nectar right through my belly and into your teensy weensy heart (okay, it did have some other unpronounceable chemicals mixed in), and poof - you felt instantly better and light as a feather. You shot up into the sky, up and up to Baby Heaven, where you were greeted by hoards of other kids who got the short end of the stick and who are now all living the high life in a penthouse with a fridge full of baby formula, like characters on MTV's Real World. And that little six-pound body and the hurricane of sadness you left behind, well, Dad and I handled that, so don't worry your handsome little brown-haired head about it.

Anyway, there's your story in a nutshell, Zach. Now go off and celebrate your Dirthday with your little friends up there.

Oh, and regarding those first two questions: 1) boogers are fun to eat because they require so much work to obtain, making their consumption oddly satisfying. Kind of like pistachios. 2) as for why the American people reelected a barf-bag for president, I just Googled "why Bush was reelected" and no clear answers came up, so it's best if you ask Dad about it.


sharonvw said...

Mon, I don't know how you do it! How you can make me cry my eyes out while laughing out loud all at the same time. Big up's to you girlie, I bet the last year has been hell, but you made it through the first year and somehow you kept your amazing sense of humour in tact!
Zach, happy dirthday for yesterday baby boy!

Monica LeMoine said...

Shaz, thanks for keeping me going!

eggorchicken said...

Wow Monica, I'm in total agreement with Sharon on this eyes are leaking yet I'm giggling at the same time. Big, big hugs for what must've been a really cruddy day after an awfully difficult year. You're just amazing.
Gorgeous boy - happy, happy dirthday for yesterday little man!

c-monster said...

i miss you sweetish. c'mon home!

Anabelle said...

In response to the comment you left me:

i'm not sure what the protocol is for responding to commments as i'm fairly new to this whole thing haha

anyhow, thank you! He does have an amazing personality too.. he wears his heart on his sleeve and wouldn't think twice about crying if he felt the need too. Yet on the flip side of that, he's a rugged electrician, ex race car drive covered with tattoos. So not only is he sensitive but he's a bad boy too.

a perfect little package if I might say so myself :)

All my girlfriends circle around like vultures, waiting for my untimely demise, so that they may swoop up and steal him. HA!

Good to hear from you too! I've read your entire blog.. you are a far stronger person than I.. although sometimes it takes an experience like yours to show a person how truly strong they can be.

Monica LeMoine said...

Anabelle - that last line of your comment is absolutely right! I think we're all way stronger than we know inside.

janis said...

I love this conversation! Your son must be out there all smitten that he has a cool mum who talks birds and bees (well, sorta) with him *this* early! ;-)
Hugs to you.

Cassie Daughtrey said...

I'm reading this really late. But like everyone else, I laughed and cried. Thank you for sharing, Monica. You're a great sharer and amazing writer. Your blog reeled me in and I'm hooked. And I read no other blogs.