Tag Archives: 16 and Pregnant

Chuck E Cheese…A Place Where You Can Beat Your Kid!

24 Feb
My mind is forever ruined

My mind is forever ruined

I brought my daughter to Chuck E. Cheese; once a childhood favorite past time, now a memory I wish to forget. I spent 45 minutes in Chuck E. Cheese and to be completely honest, I haven’t felt that many emotions all at once since the first time I tried Hard Liquor.

Casting Call!!!

Casting Call!!!

At first glance, I couldn’t tell if I was in a Chuck E Cheese or in a casting call for MTV’s show 16 and pregnant. There were so many pregger teens, that I began to think perhaps these girls had so much fun here as a child, they couldn’t wait to come back. Almost like a Chuck E. Cheese pregnancy pack. Maybe they came here to get used to all the annoying children screaming and crying. Or maybe they came to learn how to properly discipline their children. I have never seen so many instances of child abuse in one area. Parents were beating their kids left and right. A Smack here, a spank there. It was so bad I started to wonder if Chuck E. Cheese should consider a different tag line;

Chuck E. Cheese, A place where a kid can be a kid you can beat your kid

Moving through the crowds of people I noticed that Addison stuck out like a sore thumb. Here we have this little white girl with bright blue eyes, blonde hair and a matching outfit from the Gap (she also had a bright bow in her hair to top it off). I felt like I stuck a sign on her that read, “Your right, I’m not on welfare” and of course Addison had the attitude to go along with that invisible sign. If all these kids were older, Addison would have been asking for a beat down.

We made our way over to the games and I quickly realized I had entered the front lines of a war. Being the civil person that I am, I waited my turn for every game, however, rules do not apply in Chuck E. Cheese. Every single line rule was thrown out the window; it was a straight free-for all.

Now, there is only so much line cutting a person can take before they snap and I believe Boy Ryan was at that point when I spotted an open game…I decided to move quickly on it.

This Meant War

This Meant War

Mama Bird to Papa Bird, I’m seeing a vacancy at the “Fishing Boat” Game. Look at your 3 o clock… Over”

“Papa Bird copies that, let’s make our move… Over”

We scooped up Addison and B-lined, and  ran over to the game before anyone else saw the opportunity.  We put in the coin to start the game and this little boy- we will call him Little Jose -walked up and helped himself to the game. He just started hitting buttons and completely took over. Addison was immediately turned off by the intruder and I shrugged my shoulders in defeat. But, Boy Ryan hit his breaking point. He bent down to get on the level of Little Jose, who by the way couldn’t have been more than 5 years of age:

“Hey, its not your turn. Its her turn so you need to wait in line”

“Como se?”

“Como se, it’s NOT YOUR TURN”

“Te Llama?”

Boy Ryan rolls his eyes and scoots the boy to the side of the game so Addison can play.

“Look, Kid, Not your turn. Her Turn. Comprehende? Adios” He turns back to Addison and I.

Can you believe that? The nerve, I almost lost my shit”

After about ten minutes we realized that playing any game was a total suicide mission,  so we moved our way over to the tunnels and slides.

This used to be my favorite part of Chuck E. Cheese. I have never been a big game-er so I spent most of my time crawling in and out of those tunnels. I wanted more than anything for her to try them out. But you must know, my daughter lives in a bubble. Not because I am an overprotective parent, but because she is the most cautious child I have ever met. She thinks the fire alarm in our house is a danger to her.

“Addison, look how fun those tunnels look! You should try it!”

“Mom, I am too little for those tunnels, maybe next year. I really just want a balloon.”

I was so disappointed to hear that… I may or may not had promised a balloon in return for a trip through the tunnels. At the time I did not see this as bribing my kid, I saw it as parenting. They are more or less the same exact thing.

Addison looked at the tunnels above her, then at the balloons, then at me, “Ok, ill go”.

As she reached the last platform, a large child pushed past her almost knocking her down the stairs. My instinct kicked in and I walked over to exchange words with this little fatty.

How dare he push her, does he not understand that one tumble down those steps will make Addison’s bubble a cement case? She will never want to leave the house again.

Would you want to mess with Aunt Jemima?

Would you want to mess with Aunt Jemima?

But then I caught a glimpse of his mother. This lady looked like Aunt Jemima’s evil twin sister. Taking one look at this woman, I decided it was best to let Addison fend for herself, it was about time that kid held her own.

Addison finally made it to the last platform and entered into the tunnels. Boy Ryan and I tried to follow her shadow above us as she crawled through the tubes, but soon lost sight of her. I panicked and realized this was a very bad idea, worst than my idea of wearing penguin underwear to a back massage session.

It had been years since I went into those tunnels but I remembered the dangers, shit can hit the fan real fast. When you come to a fork in the tunnel and spot an older, much larger child barreling down in your direction, you better turn and crawl your little ass as fast as possible or you will be road kill.  All I could imagine was Addison learning that lesson the hard way. Great, I just sent my kid into hand-to-hand combat all because I promised a fucking Chuck E. Cheese Balloon…

Boy Ryan interrupted my thoughts, “Do you see her?”

“No, do you?!”

“No, Jesus Ryan why did you let her go in there? I would have never let her go. Do you not remember how crazy, shit can get in those things?”

“What, she wanted to go in there, she is growing up you know she can do stuff like this. She isn’t a baby”

Yes, the look of anxiety

Yes, the look of anxiety

As Boy Ryan and I frantically raced back and forth trying to find Addison, I overheard another mother say to her husband, “Aw look, they must be newbies.  Remember how frantic we were the first time Johnny went into those tunnels? Thank gosh he only came out with a black eye!”

I should have bribed her into watching that dancing rat on stage, Chuck E. Cheese himself. At least it was a safe place where I could explain that the big rat is the last person to worry about in this cluster fuck.

The only thing Addison had going for her was her vast experience with Dora The Explorer. She definitely knows enough conversational Spanish to make a friend in those tunnels.

Finally we spotted Addison being led by a little girl, not too much older than herself. I assumed Addison trusted the little girl because she resembled a chubby version of Dora the Explorer.  Addison popped up in one of the glass cubes and waved to us, pointing to her Dora friend. I breathed a sigh of relief… ok, she is still alive….

mail.google.com1 mail.google.com

As the little girl walked Addison back to us, we quickly put on her shoes and decided it was time to move on to our last resort, the rides.

So , once again we waited in our invisible line and watched as people cut us over and over. I finally started to lower my behavior to a barbaric level and push my way onto a horse ride, but these two children beat me to it and Addison missed her chance again. Frustrated, I sighed and was just about to yell when I see the two kids Baby Mama walk over with her additional 4 kids in tow.

So I say (in the nicest voice possible), “Um, Hi, excuse me we were waiting in line…”

“You what? You was waiting in line? I didn’t see nobody in line, they ain’t no lines in Chuckee-Cheese.”

Yes apparently there aren’t any lines, but we have been patiently waiting here for about 15 minutes now. My daughter really wants to ride the horse, don’t you sweetie?” I turned to Addison.

Of course Addison completely throws me under the bus. “No, I want to ride the butterfly, I don’t want the horse”. I quickly shift my eyes to Boy Ryan who is pretending to be on his phone.

Thanks Guys, just sacrifice me to the angry Baby Mama. I will remember this moment when I’m doing your laundry tomorrow.

Baby Mama yells louder, “I’m sorry, there something you want to say to me? Cuz im listening.”

220px-CarterIIII searched my brain for something quick to say and my eyes landed on the little baby, Baby Mama was holding. Like every small infant in Chuck E. Cheese, this baby had the sharpest Timberland Boots with a collared shirt and fuzzy black hair. How cute!

This place must be where Lil’ Wayne found the baby on the front of his Tha Carter III CD album. There are tons of them here.

“ Hey, lady, Im listening…”

Call it fear or call it being the bigger person, but I was not about to throw down with this lady over a fucking pony ride. I’m usually not above a lot, but I am above brawling in a Chuck E. Cheese.

“That’s Ok, we were just about to leave”

“Damn Right you was”

So we left, rather quickly.

With my ego in one hand and a balloon in the other, I am not too proud to say that Chuck E. Cheese kicked my ass.

Chuck E. Cheese- 1      That Girl Ryan-0

Leaving the building, I don’t know who was more scarred; Boy Ryan, Me or Addison. Chuck E. Cheese, you have completely let yourself go, Zero Fun.

O, and on a side note…I have made an executive decision that Chuck E. Cheese and Walmart are now on the same status level. There are now officially TWO places where the creatures from the depths of the earth gather and hang out. That place is a total hot bed of society mis-fits.

With that, I will not be returning to Chuck E. Cheese anytime soon.

Adios,  you dancing rat.

Shear Disappointment Chuck E. Cheese

Shear Disappointment Chuck E. Cheese

Knocked Up…Ryan Style

20 Dec

My co-worker/Publicist has brought to my attention that my readers don’t know the story behind That Girl Ryan. So I thought I would take the time and dive a little into my story…with a humorous touch of course because you just can’t take all this shit too seriously. Perhaps this will give you a better idea of why I write the nonsense that I write.

It also occurred to me that I haven’t really gone, in-depth about my husband, Boy Ryan (don’t worry, he’s well aware that his blog debut is drawing near). So I decided to make this a two-part blog, the first being a little background about me and part two about, That Boy Ryan.

We can go into an in-depth analysis on boy Ryan later…moving on…. Boy Ryan and I started hanging out-at first- on the weekends; mainly partaking in one of our favorite activities- college binge drinking (which, I’m not so sure we really gave up). Now, not to spoil too much about part two, one thing you have to understand about Boy Ryan is that he is a man of little, outward emotion. He does not openly express himself like normal human beings. This is probably why I was attracted to him the first place. He was like a pet project; it’s always a mystery to find out what the man is thinking. As you can imagine this relationship did not begin in a normal fashion.

I know, we look so normal.

I know, we look so normal.

Now as us gals know, we over-analyze everything with men. So working with little hints here and there, I started to notice that Boy Ryan was into me for more than just my impressive keg-stand record.

Like this one time we were at a party (we had no idea whose party, we just saw a party and walked in) and I of course, cut the line in beer pong. I strategically scratched out the next contender’s name on the list and inserted my own. The next contender was not enthused when she saw this. She asked her boyfriend to explain to me how a beer pong line list works. Well, the boyfriend decided to use the word SLUT to refer to me, more than a few times. I just starred blankly at him thinking quickly for a come back. But Boy Ryan stepped in before I had the chance to embarrass myself. Being the southern gentleman that he is, asked me to kindly go downstairs for a moment. I walked out of the room and went downstairs to wait for him. The next thing I know, Boy Ryan comes barreling down the stairs, his shirt ripped in half and behind him, a mob of Perry, boat shoe-frat boys. As we ran out of the house, Ryan grabbed my hand and it dawned on me that whatever happened up in that room was done to defend my honor. Even though I DID indeed cut the line, he still defended me. This little gesture continued throughout our relationship and I still, to this day think it’s adorable even if it is a tad violent.

OR another example…

One time I went to his house for a party and regrettably drank 2 cups of lethal “JMU Jungle Juice”. If you attended JMU and know about the jungle juice its probably because you encountered it at a baseball party. But like any good drinker, we always blame it on the juice. Well it was a long night, or short night, whichever perspective you choose to take, but basically it was all a blur to me. I woke up in Boy Ryan’s bed and realized I had peed his bed. No, I’m not kidding I peed the kid’s bed. I was more than mortified and quickly left his house not expecting any kind of communication to continue between us from that point on. But, can you believe that crazy idiot called me the next day? Now if someone peed my bed after only 4-5 weeks of hanging out, I would have never called them again, maybe only to ask for money to buy a new mattress. To this day I can’t comprehend why he called, maybe he just really liked the fact that my name was Ryan, or maybe he thought I was marking my territory and was flattered by that gesture.

We have had romantic moments (the kind that Hollywood defines as romantic), but for some reason, out of all the dates, flowers and jewelry, these moments are the ones that I always remember and love the best.

Fast forward about 11 months later and WAM, we found out I was pregnant. Now this is always the part that people ask me that stupid question, O-M-G, how did that happen? And I always answer…“Well I think it happened with little Birds and Bees and a wild Cinco-De-Mayo that year”.

We created a monster.

We created a monster.

A gorgeous one at that!

A gorgeous one at that!

When we found this out, I was miserable, embarrassed and just down right disappointed. Not only did this little Oopsy not fit into my five year plan, but I was still in college and I had to quit track. There is nothing more awkward than telling your track coach that you got knocked up and can’t compete anymore. “Coach, I wont be coming back to track this year. I sort of have this-let’s call it a disease, that requires me to get fat, crave ridiculous things like pickles and mayo and eventually push out a live human being out of small hole. SO…The whole track thing-yea I just don’t think its going to work out this year. Go Dukes!!”

I'm making a come back when I turn 40.

I’m making a come back when I turn 40.

The only thing that got me through this tough time was the award winning show, 16 and pregnant. Watching that train wreck made me feel better about myself. As I watched faithfully every week, I found that things could be a lot worse. My personal favorite life lesson came from Amber. Amber taught me that beating up your baby-daddy is NOT a good idea. Thank you MTV for that televised inspiration.

During this time I also reflected on why I was so embarrassed to be in this situation. I always wanted to be popular and liked by everyone. I wanted my story to be a successful one, the golden, all American girl themed story, similar to Carrie from Sex in the City. I wanted to be that girl at the party that was just enough fun but never over the top (however, coming from a family with a long history of alcoholism, just enough is really never enough, so that plan went to shit.)

My life took an unconventional path and going through this event, I soon realized that I’m more comfortable with being a tad different than I am with being normal. Like for instance, I had always imagined when it was time for my marriage proposal, it would be this magical thing. Fireworks would sparkle and these guys with guitars would sing and I would look so beautiful because I would have a killer outfit on that night. But remember, I married Boy Ryan and my proposal was anything BUT.

Boy Ryan is the worst at planning things out-Like throws a party and doesn’t remember to pick up the beer-worst. For my proposal, he took me out to go geo-caching. Geo-caching is like a scavenger hunts for adults but way, way nerdy-er. I was about 5 months pregnant at the time and he thought it would be such a great idea to hike up a hilly trail to get to the right spot. Well, after 45 minutes of hiking and a nasty case of swamp ass, we were at the “perfect” spot. He pulled out his GPS Geo-caching app on his phone and told me to follow him down a rocky ledge. This ledge was covered in rocks, steep and slippery. It lead right to the edge of a waterfall-Again, not a good idea to make the woman carrying your child to climb down a ledge.

Actually, thinking about it now, he may have been trying to kill me and thought “if this pregnant girl makes it down this ledge, I’ll propose to her” Well, lucky man that he is, I made it down the hill with my fat self and there he was kneeling, face red and grinning from ear to ear. At that moment, all my fantasies of being proposed to with fireworks and guys with guitars seemed so…blah. This proposal was not the picture I had created in my mind. But you know what, it was so Boy Ryan to do something like that. He wouldn’t think ahead of time that pregnant women couldn’t hike up hills or climb down steep ledges. He wouldn’t think to make sure I wore proper shoes or dressed in pants that wouldn’t show my sweaty ass marks. The whole thing was so funny and backwards that it will always be memorable.

This whole backwards thing has been a hell of a fun ride and I have no idea where it will take us. From this epiphany, I’ve unlocked a great secret that perfection is boring. Because nobody is perfect. If you watch enough 20/20 episodes, you’ll see relationships are not always what they seem.

Such an awkward photo, I had to share it.

Such an awkward photo, I had to share it. Of course Boy Ryan looks out of his ring like it’s a telescope.

So with that being said, I write what others are too afraid to admit. I also write because my therapist thinks it’s the best thing for my Adult ADD. But now that you know a little about me, you might understand the perspective I choose to take.

I strongly suggest you stay tuned for part 2 because I am going to have a blast telling you about my husband.

 

WHO IS THAT BOY RYAN…coming soon.

Insidethelifeofmoi

An eccentric blogger with a pen and a thousand ideas

Comics Grinder

comics, pop culture and related topics

Barb Taub

Writing & Coffee. Especially coffee.

The Nomidian Texts

Everything that Is, Was, and Will be Again.

jesus was a primate

a small insight into my life: wife-mom-football-fitness-politics-religion~upcycle

Bucket List Publications

Indulge- Travel, Adventure, & New Experiences

20somethings Blog

Stories of men and women in their twenties

don of all trades

Master of none...

A Goode One

Sometimes life defies description. But I'll try anyway.

Ben's Bitter Blog

"We make bitter better."

Sick and Sick of It

But Still Living The Life

Playing Your Hand Right

Showing America how to Live

King of States!

I'm Michelle. This is my blog. I write about women and fatness, expound upon semi-coherent thoughts I have in the middle of the night, and offer tough love to those in whom I am disappointed; they are legion.

The Goldwoman

Buffet-eater, bodysuit-enthusiast, bad-bitch.

A Buick in the Land of Lexus

fresh hell trumps stale heaven

The Bromance Diaries

The riveting inner-workings of two souls riddled with bromance.

Hacker.Ninja.Hooker.Spy.

Some mistakes are too good not to share

Really a Waitress

let's not pretend