Today is Clay's fourth birthday. In two weeks, it'll be the 4th anniversery of the first time I saw/met/held him. I'm not quite sure what to make of this. ::lol::

I am in no way a kid person, not by any streach of the imagination. I wanted a baby for probably about a week when I was around four...then I grew out of it. Never wanted kids since, not even for a moment. I'm still planning to have a tuboligation as soon as I can get a doctor to do it and have Medicare pay for it.

But Clay...Clay was the first baby in my life I considered mine. And Brain a year after that, of course, but Clay was the first.

I still hate kids, and I reach my limit very, very quickly, even with Clay and Brain and Susan, but that limit of "okay, enough, get them away from me" is higher with these two then any other kid I've ever spent time with in my life.

It was Clay who gave me the name Buddy. I was one of his Favorate People Ever as a baby, could get him to sleep when no one else could, and like with Brain, I could get him to eat more then anyone else, even more then Anne or SueMary could (because of their birth mother's Meth use, it was imparitive that we keep both babies eatting as much as possible, as offten as possible). Clay always wanted to spend time with me. But then one day, he stopped. I went from being a FPE, to being someone he looked at as if confused as to why I was talking to him. No one could figure out why. As soon as he started learning more then just the basic words, he stopped talking to me.

Then one day, outta the blue, we were all playing the "What is/Who is that?" game where you point at something, and he has to say the word for it. And he's brillent, got every name right with people, and right very quickly on objects (expeicaly for his age, wow, both of them are so smart when it comes to words!!). And when mom pointed at me, and asked, "Who's that?" He tilted his head, and looked very confused for a moment. Then after mom said, "Who's that?" again, he nodded once and said, "Buddy."

We were all taken a back, left blinking, so mom said, "Who's that?" and he smiled hugly and said, "BUDDY!" And just like that, in an instant, I was back to being a FPE.

Turns out? Clay couldn't say my name! He just struggled with it for some reason. So rather then stumble saying my name and be left upest with himself, he just stopped talking to me all together. If he didn't spend time with me, no one would ask him to play "who's that" with him. So eventuly he decided to just give me a new name. One he could say.

I've been Buddy ever since.

A name I wear with great pride, too.

I'll never be a kid person, not even if I were the last woman alive and had to contenue the human race. If I'm the last woman able to bare offspring? Sorry, put us on the ex-list, 'coz we're toast. I'm not a kid person...but for Clay, and for Brian and Susan, I'm as close as I'll ever get.

I can't believe it's been four years.

OMG, Brian turns two years old today.

That's just...mind boggling. I was the first person to hold him when Anne brought him over, he was just bearly a week 'n a half, maybe two weeks old. Even smaller then Clay was in those first months.

( Brian's Birthday Party And My Fail, And Clay's First Visit To The ER Yesterday )


::streches:: Feels good to be home, and feels wonderful that the DS_Match SNAFU is all cleared up now and everyone is sharing in the love together again. Thanks to everyone who filled me in last night, I was pretty damned confused signing in to that, and with so many posts spread out all over, I was having troubble finding the cause of stuff. The love fest going on over at the Match home are just wonderful.

And I can't say how touched I am at how many people responded to someone entering my name to the annonomus love thread. I am really, incredibly touched by all the people who've posted nice things about me. {{{HUGS TO EVERYONE}}} I'm trying to go though and do the same to all the wonderful, incredible people who are up there, too, but it's so hard to brake that lurker instict. Even if it's annonomus, it's hard to join in. But there are soooo many people who deserve their awsomeness to be reconised in that list.

If I don't post (not that anyone would know, it is annonomus), know that I really do thing that this is one of the most wonderful, awsome, loving fandoms I've ever run in, and I am incredibly honored to call so many of you my friends. {{{HUGGLES}}}

I'm really not feeling well, and this'll probably be just riddled with typos considering the curent levels of medications in me, so I appologise, I know it's gunna be even worse then normal. But today is Clay's third birthday, and I just felt that this event should be marked, since I won't actualy see him. So I just thought I'd throw up some quick Pic Spam.

These are just a few images that I love and that stand out in my mind when I think of pics of Clay. Even if you're not into baby pics (because god knows that I'm normaly not), I do hope that these'll at least make you smile for a moment today.


( A Few Snapshots Over The Last Three Years )

Okay, that's it, my Auntie duties are done and I'm going to crash. Happy Birthday, Clay. Your Aunt Buddy loves you.

Okay, it's offical, we never should have tought Brian ( The Word 'Ow' )


Okay, and that was all kinda depressing, so to end on a slightly higher note, how about a little "Conversation With Clay" from last Saturday?

(Papa, Clay, and Brian are sitting in/climbing on the red chair and footstool we keep by the window. Clay is in Papa's lap, and Brian want's up too, so he tries to climb up, but starts to fall, so Papa catches him):

Papa: "Brian wants to join us, huh?"
Clay: "Yah."
Papa: "Think we should help him?" (holding Brian's legs now)
Clay: "No."
Papa: (picks Brian up and holds him upside down, which Brian LOVES byond all reason) "Think we should drop him on his head?" (teasing)
Clay: (sits up) "Yah!"
Papa: (laughs) (sets Brian down in his lap) "Nooo. Silly. We don't want to drop Brian on his head."
Clay: (pouts) "Why not?"

(Buddy proptly looses it laughing across the room)

Okay, I'm making this a seprate post, because it really has nothing to do with podfic_tips (::poke poke::), but I didn't wanna put stuff under cuts, because I want people to actualy see the podfic_tips annoucment. ::poke poke:: So seprate posts it is...

Clay has officaly taught Brian to say "why". ::headesk:: This has been Clay's favorate word ever for about six months or more, now, and he uses it over, and over, and over, and... Every other breath it's "why?" And it just dosent end. Weeeelll, now Brian is doing it. Only Brian can't quite pronouce it, and he (thankfuly) dosen't quite understand what it meens. So it's more "Uh-ieeee?" Which he says to anything we say to him that's not a question.

Brian: ::points to soda cans on window sill::
Buddy (ME): "No, those are Papa's."
Brian: "Uh-ieee?" ::keeps pointing::

::sighs:: Right now, we are only postive he is trying to say "Why", because his useing the exact tone and inflection that Clay uses for the word (the same ever time). Anything Clay does, Brian has to do, every toy Clay has, Brian wants, too. It works both ways, but Brian is a little more clingy about it. With Clay, the wanting the same things is more a jeliousy issue, with Brian it's more...I don't know if Hero Worship is quite accureate, here, Jeliousy is part of it, but I think it's more that Brian's never known a time in his life without Clay, where Clay was quite happy as an only child for that first year. So Brian is used to doing everything in pairs, so if one of them does soemthing by themselves, it dosen't look/feel right to Brain.

At least that's my guess.

So, for Clay to say a word over and over and over (God, that word with that inflection has hunted my dreams, I'm not kidding), Brian must therefor learn and use it, too, even if he dosen't quite get what it meens yet...but GOD, we know it's just a matter of time. He's useing it correctly, he just dosen't understand our responce to it, yet. ::sighs:: ::Shakes head::

It is, however, also the most preshus thing you've ever heard. ::proud auntie face::

Oh, and they're both also compleatly addicted to Tattoos. I'm so proud! I got the first set on a whim, my LORE Group meets at Dirty Dave's (Dirty Dave's Gay 90's Pizza Parlor & Subs, here in Oly) every month, and in the entryway, they have the usual candy and sticker misheens you find in any family restraunt. But they also have one of the tattoo masheens for between 25-50¢s each, and they recently filled one of the slots with Seahawks tattoos. Well, since Mom and Dad have tought Clay that the Seahawks Rule, and Football Good (despite the fact that they're not suposed to watch TV), I thought it'd be cute to get some Seahawks tattoo's for Clay.

Well, I got a few others as well and...well, it took awhile for Clay to get the consept of a "sticker that dosen't come off" until a week later when it does. But once he got it, he LOVED them. Dad even got him some Harly Davidson tattoos (Clay loves Mortercycles, or, well Moto-cyciles, as he pronouces them), and he was so proud! He loves having something he can bond over with Papa.

So he liked them so much, I kept getting them. A few each month everytime I had a LORE meetup. Now, you don't ever see Clay without at least one or more tattoos on him! He can't stand the idea of not being inked! He loves them. He's really into "scarry" tattoo's right now. Since you don't really get to choose which tattoo comes out of those macheens (you just see the series, and the actual tattoo you get is random), I got a Skull with a Snake and a Rose or something early on, and we didn't think he'd go for it, and didn't really want him to because we knew Anne would hate it (well, Mom didn't want him to... ::G::). But he saw it (Oh, gee, sorry, it must have slipped from the bottom of the pile where I hid it...) and loved it imideatly, and put it on his belly, so he could flip up his shirt and scare every body.

So now he loves all scarry tattoos. Skulls, snakes, dragons...the macheen I use has a "Japanese" sereis, that's mostly dragons and tigers with flaimes around them, and he loves those. Scarry tattoo's always go on his belly, unless his belly already has something, in which case it goes onto his forarm. Only...he's gotten so used to there being a scarry tattoo on his belly, that now any tattoo on his belly must be, in his mind, scarry, right? Well, I ran out of scarry tattoos last month, so instead he had a rainbow with white fluffy clouds on his belly...but it was on his belly so it had to have been terrifying! ::LOL:: He got so confused when he lifed up his shirt, and people didn't gasp and run away (he has us so well trained ::LOL::). So we had to spend that whole week explaining to people we met to act scarred of the rainbow, otherwise he got really upset and confused. ::LOL::

Well, of curse, with those two, if one does something, the other has to as well. Brian wanted something too, but didn't get the consept at all, but he knew that when Clay got one, it was a group event. We all sit there with him and as a group we all count to thirty (it's incredible to watch how fast he's learning his nubers now, because he hears 1-30 so offten! ::LOL::) and we're all cheering and laughing, and it's a lot of fun, and Brian wanted to be a part of that. But...then we stuck this washcloth on him, which he hates, and then the thing wouldn't come off, which he really hated...

We put the first one on his foot, and oh LORD he spet hours trying to rub it off. We were really affraid he'd panic or hurt himself, so we kept trying to re-inforce that it was this really cool thing.

Well, we kinda thought, okay, we tried, he hated it, so this'll be Clay's thing. ...Only the next week, Brian wanted one again. ...Right up until the count of 20, which is when he desideds the washcloth is evil and starts crying again. Putting Tattoos onto Brian is always a two person job, one to hold him still, one to hold the washcloth and tattoo on. God, you'd think we were torturing him. But the more we did it, the more he loved the tattoo once it was actualy on. And now he's actualy picking them out himself (sorta).

Well, yesterday, for the very first time, we got all the way to 30 and Brian didn't cry or try to get away once! He was actualy happy the whole time. The first thing he does each and every time is still to try to eat it, but then he's happy and runs around the house showing everyone his new fish, or flower, or bird, or whatever. He even leared to really say "fish" because we kept putting Fish on his right foot for about three solid weeks.

So now they're both coverd pretty much head to toe with tattoos, 24/7. I'm so proud! I gotta get some pics of that for ya. It really is just halarous. They know Buddy always has tattoos for them, and they love it. ::LOL:: I'm so proud of them.

Well, Clay has officaly started potty training...god help us all. I am officaly having nothing to do with this. I only changed Clay's dipers once, I think, and I only change Brian when he's wet. If he's messy, he's Mom or Dad's problem. I love those kids, but I don't do dipers.

Neither do I do potty training, Toilet Paper 101, "This Is How You Flush", or...accidents. At best, I'll read him "Everybody Poops"...though it's not really nessicary, he'll go out of sight if he's messing his diper, but if you ask him if that's what he's doing, he'll say yes. So he's not really ashamed of it or anything. And he'll almost always say he dosn't need to be changed, no matter what, not just with messy dipers, because he dosn't like to be changed. So I don't think that's gunna be a big issue with him. He's being raised in a pretty open enviroment, and he always asks if he wants to know something. Even words I'm not suposed to be teaching him. ::snickers::

Today, I was teasing Mom about her being gone so much durring these two months for work, and when Clay asked "Why Grama go away?" I replied, "Because she dosen't love us anymore."

::big ass grin:: The look Mom gave me...my GOD it was perfect. So now I've got him trained already. I ask "Clay, why is Granma leaving again?" he replies "Granma dosn't love us an'mo'r." ::snicker::

Oh, he'll have forgotten it by next week, but for now it's fucking halarious. Not really nice, but nothing worse then she's done to me. ::LOL::

Anyhow, what made me sit down to write this: I went in to use the bathroom in Mom and Dad's room while the main one was busy, and I see the new Kid Potty, plastic and in friendly 80's colors of purple, green, and yellow. The orignal box is next to it I see it's labled as "Kids Training Potty And Step Stool."

Okay, first off, poop/stool puns aside, am I the only one who think this is a bad idea? Am I the only person who thinks it's a bad idea to have kids crawling all over a bucket of crap? Climbing on a bucket of crap? To reach other stuff, thereby transfuring the new potty germs all over the house...

Yeeeeaaaaah. Can I repeat once again: I Have Nothing To Do With This Stage. I'll be there to help him with his ABCs, his fractions, his first date (girl or boy), and so on. Potty training? Yah, I'll check in with him again in, what, a year? That about how long it genoraly takes to get the basics down, right? ::sigh::

First off, this is my first offical post on My Brand New Laptop! Woot!!

The design on the cover (a sworled lines pattern, very Japanese) is makeing me lean towords Uzu for a name (if you missed the comments conversation with tinheart, it meens "sworling watter"), however I'm not sure it really fits. In fact, I haven't yet figured out if this laptop is positavly male or female! With Vysaka I knew instantly, and Daemon was kinda ambiguius (not androginous, just not always definatly one or the other). I'll keep ya guys updated on the name thing.

That being said, I lead us into the next installment of:

Conversations With Clay

*setting: Dad, Clay, and I in a car driving to the store. Clay keeps takeing off his shoes, and I'm getting very furstrated putting them back on. He takes it off one more time and he wants to put it on himself, so I turn back around to face front*

Dad: *amused by this and driving* "Aren't you glad you want kids?"
Me: ::glairing:: "I do not want kids and you damn well know it. I love these two but NO."
Dad: "Oh yes you do. At least six or seven."
Me: "No."
Dad: "Maybe a dozen, right Clay?"
Clay: ::still fiddling with his shoe:: "Yah."
Me: "I know where you sleep."
Dad: "And all of them all at once."
Me: "I can make you no longer a man in yer sleep, too, remember."
Dad: ::laughing:: "Bobbit-ize."
Clay: "Yah."
Dad: "Do you want PaPa to be be demasculated, Clay?"
Clay: ::bursts out chearing and makeing happy noises::

At this point, Dad had to slam on the brakes (thankfuly we were in the parkinglot by now) and Clay is giving us both the weirdest "WTF?" looks as we're both doubbled up laughing. He honestly dosn't undersand why we think it's so funny that he managed to get his shoe back on his foot all by himself.

::Clay spills something on the floor yesterday::
Mom: Clay, you gotta clean that up. You spilled it, you gotta clean it.
Clay: Gam'ma did it.
Mom: No, Grandma didn't do it. You did it.
Clay: Papa did it!
Mom: No, Papa didn't do it.
Clay: Buddy home?
Mom: ::confused:: No, Buddy's not here. Buddy gone.
Clay: Buddy did it!


::snickering:: Sometimes I'm so proud of that boy! ...When he's not blameing me for his messes, at least...well...sometimes even then. Proud he figured out to blame the one person who's not there and so couldn't deny it! ::snickers::