Weasel Of Doom

I try to speak Russian to DemonChild, in hopes that he will be bilingual. I think DemonChild just hopes I will shut up and stick to the language everybody else is speaking, but he is so totally SOL on that one.

Anyhow, while most of the time DemonChild refuses to say anything in my native language, every once in a while he forgets about faking incomprehension, and says something in Russian. Here’s what he let slip so far:

• лёд — ice (when begging for some ice, and English is producing no results)
• утка — duck (playing with a bouncy ball with a duck on it)
• мячик — ball (for all things round and possibly bouncy)
• глаз — eye (said it only one, when he found a lego with eyes on it, and it took me 5 minutes to figure out what he meant, due to cognitive dissonance)
• нос — nose (usually when stabbing his finger into various parts of my face)
• волосы — hair (ditto, accompanied by gentle and not-so-gentle pulling)
• конец — the end (when a song or a cartoon come to an end)
• всё — all done (when he is all done eating something)
• мультик — cartoon (when begging for the idiot box to be turned on)
• яблоко — apple (did only once, while pointing at a photo of an apple)
• кто там — who is there (the one Russian phrase DemonChild says often and with great enjoyment, while knocking on everything in sight, be it animate or inanimate, with great enthusiasm)
• папа — daddy (when BelovedSpouse comes into his room in the morning or gets home at night)
• раз, два, три — one, two, three (usually followed by jumping off something)
• he can also count to twelve fairly reliably, if the spirit moves him

List of things to remember when things are dark:

• DemonChild going “Mommy, mommy, mommy” in the mornings, and when I come in, saying “Diapertime” and laying down on the changing pad in the “change me” position

• Sequeeker smiling at us when we come into his field of vision

• DemonChild holding my hand to his cheek and snuggling to it during our walks

• Squeeker launching himself at the boob when he is hungry, and being so happy once he eats his fill

• DemonChild saying “Ice Ice Ice Ice Pweeze” when he wants to eat some ice. Then looking at me and saying “Lyod,” which is Russian for “ice.”

• Squeeker happily chewing everything within reach

• DemonChild and Squeeker snuggling, which to untutored eyes would appear more like smothering

Upon hearing,

“You want my hot meat, baby!”

Do you:

a) run to the bedroom to jump your spouse

b) run to the bathroom to throw up

bonus options:

c) get ideas

d) get a bottle of Lysol and spray your computer screen and your eyeballs in a desperate attempt to get the mental image this post conjured out of your head

e) wonder what the big deal about sharing meat at dinner is all about

This has not been a good week. Dear God, why is the vast majority of my posts a variation on this theme? If there ever was a sign that I should get reunited with anti-depressants, this is it.

So yeah, this week. DemonChild has embraced the terrible twos with a passion. Perfect angel one minute, screaming demon-spawn the next. “No” is the only answer to everything. Followed by more screaming. If there is trouble to get into, rest assured, he is on it.

Squeeker is taking “needy” to new heights (or should that be “new lows”?). Basically, if he is not asleep, he wants to be held, played with, or otherwise entertained. And since both he and DemonChild do not go down until 9 pm or later, this leaves almost no time for me to do anything around the house.

The house is drowning in crap. I have four diaper containers (big 160 count ones) of paperwork to go through and file. Medical bills to pay. Carpets to vacuum. The kitchen floor, which I finally got around to washing last Saturday because Mel was kind enough to come and help us watch the kids, looks like it hasn’t ever been clean. DemonChild’s red shirt bled color all over the cute overalls that are not even ours, and I am not sure I will be able to get the pink stains out. I have not had time or energy to clean the bathrooms for a few weeks now. When BelovedSpouse is watching the kids and I should be catching up on housework, all I do instead is read or waste time on the computer, because I don’t want to deal with real life.

And talking about BelovedSpouse, I have no idea why he won’t just get a divorce, because if the situation was reversed, I would have been out of here a long time ago.

I look around, and all I see are reminders of what a failure I am personally and professionally. To be given so much, and to waste it all. Monday morning, I am calling our doctor and asking for some anti-depressants, because I hate what I have become.

This morning, I noticed that Squeeker’s first tooth has peeked through. Bottom left (or possibly bottom right – depends on your perspective). Let the biting of the boob that feeds you commence!