Hybrid Mom Cupcakes: a Recipe for Disaster

It's late, or early - I'm not exactly sure. We've just finished the third feeding since first my little bulldozer (let's call him DOZER) first drifted off into dreamland six hours ago. I blame this on his newly acquired disdain for avocados, which were #2 on his list of most favoritest foodznstuffz behind Split Pea soup until I finally let him touch the avocado the other day. Ohhhhh yes, he just HAD to touch it, NEEDED to touch it; I felt like Mommy Dearest for keeping his tiny fists from exploring. So, I presented him the avocado in all its fatty, slimy glory. He hated it. The look of disgust upon his face was reminiscent of my own childhood disdain for anything sticky, soiling, icky, or yucky that dared touch my hands. I cleaned him up, put the avocado back on the spoon and presented it in its original "YAY for Avocado! form" but he wasn't buyin' it. And I couldn't sell it. And Congress wouldn't bail me out. And now he doesn't even like any of his green babyfood anymore... but this digresses into another blog...

So ANYWHO,
I'm on my 3rd modest glass of Red Zin this evening, these skull goblets are rather small. I space each glass of wine out carefully beginning with the first when DOZER first falls asleep and then, perhaps (who am I kidding? probably a 2nd after his 1st "midnight snack") and on some nights, like tonight, a 3rd glass... tangent alert! TANGENT ALERT!

HYBRID MOM, that was the post that woke me up from that delightful nursing baby cuddle puddle that makes you believe that all is right with the world (except for everyone except for you being complete and utter idiots). Yes, yes, Hybrid Mom. I even thought of a recipe.

HYBRID MOM CUPCAKES:

• Start with one heapin' helpin' of Lioness (this requires "looks that kill," "a condescending tone of voice," "evil hand gestures," and last but certainly not least, "a VBA or Very Bad Attitude!"

• Fold in gently with an equal measure of "Attachment Parenting" (NO, I DON'T think it's OK to just let your child "cry it out" [ALL THE TIME cryout is bad - sometimes, yes, it's necessary but cryouts should not be a way of life], I don't believe you can "Spoil a Baby" by loving him or playing with him too much or catering to his NEEDS (that's what you do to your 40 something son but again, a different blog), and no, I don't think it's OK to pawn off the most precious thing in my life to some random 13 year old ho-wannabe who is pimping herself out on myspace with half naked pictures of herself in the shitter [again, another blog]

• Add two rounded cups of BOOBIES! (Breastfed Babies are Best! But I also sympathize with all the mothers who genuinely try but cannot, for WHATEVER reason.)
  

• Add one cup of Acceptance (NO JUDGMENTS, WE'RE ALLERGIC!)
  

• Add a 1/2 cup of granola (peace out bitches!)

• Add a 1/4 cup of red wine (or whatever, hic!, add to taste >})
  

• Add a dash of old fashioned manners and standards.

• Bake it off in your favorite "dish" under constant heat and pressure.

• Be sure to open the door no less than 870 times, dooming the Hybrid Mom Cupcakes to certain fluctuations, bubbles and pits.

• Ice before fully cooling, making sure to tear off the tops of the cupcakes and smear them into the icing for a gooey mess.

• Sprinkle with no sleep, no autonomy, no appreciation.

• Leave out for days on end uncovered until stale and moldy.
  

aaaaaaaaand

VOILA!

you have your very own "Hybrid Mom Cupcakes"

/golfclap /throws a cupcake /pours more wine

(I'm sure I'll edit this, I always do.)

P.S.
Icing is good. Of course, now there is no more icing left for the Hybrid Mom Cupcakes. And I'm going to have a hella sugar buzz crash. But icing, I mean, c'mon, CREAM CHEESE ICING, seriously, c'mon. Why do I feel the need to post these feelings? I'm not sure, but I'm clicking "PUBLISH POST" as I finish off this pint of cream cheese icing...