Friday Recipe & Friday Morning Potluck

You're all in for a treat today. I've got SO much on my mind that I'm going to forego my usual Recipe posting only and steal copy June Cleaver Nirvana's Monday Morning Potluck. We're hosting a Friday edition.

To start, and because I KNOW you guys rely on my Friday recipe's, I'll direct your attention to this:

Looks down right YUMM-O-LICIOUS, doesn't it?

That, my friends, is Santa Maria Tri-Tip. You can find a recipe and tips on how to find it in your area (it's not known as tri-tip throughout the country, just in our little corner of the world) here. And btw, I don't smoke mine. Don't tell anyone around here, because that's TOTALLY ILLEGAL (kinda) but we just BBQ it on our good ole Gas Grill. Santa Maria is GASPING! Shhh...it'll be okay. So there's your recipe.

Now onto a fashion question, which may or may not ignite STRONG debate. And, if I had the time to wait for next week, I'd totally ask Tootsie Farklepants for her advice, but I don't have that kind of time. I need to know NOW. What are your feelings on Crocs?

A certain family member (who reads this blog, comments, and shall remain nameless) who is currently visiting, was SHOCKED yesterday when my stepmom their spouse and I informed him them that Crocs, while comfortable, are not, necessarily, uh, fashionable. At all. But, that's just our opinion. What are your feelings? Please leave a comment, or, at the very least, vote in the poll to your right. Your individual poll choice will remain secret, much to my chagrin, as I have NO WAY of figuring out who voted what. Damn. Gracias, amigos/amigas.

Next...please leave the above fashion question at the door. Or, as they would say in Court, strike that from the record, when you begin this next section. Cleared your mind? Okay good...continue on.

Dylan recieved his first Birthday present yesterday from my Dad and Stepmon who are currently visiting. It's this:

And it's AWESOME. He's been busy taking all kinds of pictures, which, after we finally got him to point the camera in the right direction (see self portrait below) he's starting to master. See for yourself.

DJ did not take this photo, but it was declared his "favorite." I think it's my favorite, too. The girls look pretty good. Even considering the use of a massive white nursing bra.

Plus, this means he'll keep his grubby little paws off my camera. Which may even be used to convince DJ to agree to the purchase of a new camera. Specifically this one:

I'm going to need a lot of luck with that. A LOT.

And finally, Sweetney had this video posted on her site. Cracks me up. I thought about saving it for Make Me Laugh Monday next week, but couldn't keep it to myself that long. It's funny. And sad. Scary, really. Kinda brings me back to this post that I wrote a few weeks ago.

Oh, and in case you're wondering, that tiny little frivolous number? The number of US Troops killed in Iraq? It's 3,973 now. And also, in case you're wondering, and I know I'm going to hear from "Anonymous" or someone else about it. I DO NOT support the immediate withdrawal of US Troops, although it does sound mighty wonderful. We went in there and got them into this mess, we need to clean it up. I just hope we can figure out a way, rather quickly, to get most of our people out of there and still be able to get things settled down. Saddam Hussein was an asshole who did very bad things to people living in his country. And because I don't want to discount the loss of innocent Iraqi life, since January 2006 approximately 38,817 Iraqi civilians & Iraqi Security Forces have been killed.

Moving on to something that really is FUNNY and highly inappropriate....one last YouTube Video. This was a submission for Make Me Laugh Monday a few weeks ago and it cracked me up. It was submitted by AFRo.

Happy Leap Day!

The Richest 1% Are Really F*cking Smart

Wow...I just had my first major WTF INTERNET? moment. Lulu saw it...did anyone else see it? "Anonymous" has some very choice comments for the Richest 1%. Apparently they're bringing down the world. Or the US economy at the very least. Oh, and apparently those comments belong on my post about my children and my love for TBGFM. Again, WTF?

Anyway, I've taken the liberty of un-allowing anonymous comments. Not really sure what kind of difference that will make, but we'll see.

Anyway, if you're interested in what "Anonymous" has to say, they also left the comment on my crazy Barack email post, and you can find it here. I sadly felt the need to delete it from the TBGFM post. Doesn't belong there. It ruins the flavor of all those yummy foods.

As far as I can tell from his/her comment, the Richest 1% are really fucking smart. They've figured out how to get us schmo's to pay for shit and that's allowed them to monopolize all the money. Go them! Can you really fault them?

Oh, and "Anonymous"? If you're going to call Oprah, or anyone for that matter, a filthy pig and/or disgusting hypocrite slob on my site, at least have the BALLS to sign your name to it. At least then you'll have an ounce of my respect.

Life As I Know It = Over

Warning: This post may be detrimental to your effort to lose weight. Or to your Cholesterol. Or to your Vampirism. Or to your Low-Carb diet. Or to your efforts to abstain from Trader Joe's (although why anyone would EVER do that, I can't understand).

First, to the title of this post. This happened this morning:

And has continued this afternoon.

I keep forgetting and am apparently trying to kill him. Moments before the above picture was taken, I was getting up to get myself lunch. I plopped him down on the couch, as I do FREQUENTLY (I know, I know) and grabbed some toys to keep him entertained. As I walked out of the room, I turned back and noticed he was starting to roll over to reach for a toy. Problem was, I'd placed him 90 degrees to how you see him in the above picture, so he was precariously close to toppling off the side of the couch. I corrected his placement and went to grab my lunch. Hopefully I can remember this new milestone has occurred from now on and will not allow him to throw himself onto the ground (which luckily, as of late, is covered in pillows anyway due to Dylan's new found obsession with "forts" and "cuddling with his puppy" which, although it closely resembles Tahoe, is a stuffed version of The Beast.).

Now to my above referenced lunch. You know that one of the following two things are true when I start to eat this particular combination of foods EVERY DAY.

1) I'm pregnant
2) It's Summer, or at the very least, "summery" outside.

I AM NOT PREGNANT. It was 78 here yesterday and it's 72 here today. Damn, it's awesome.

During Summer, or Spring, or Really Freaking Warm Winter Days on The Central Coast of California, I am obsessed with any combination of Tomatoes, Basil, Garlic and Fresh Mozzarella. And when I say obsessed, I mean I can't stop thinking about it. It's all I want to eat, it's all I want to smell. I want to put it in a little pouch and take it to bed with me. I want to take it into the shower and rub it all over myself in the hopes that it will seep into my pores. I love it that much. It's a sickness. I should join TBGFM Eaters Anonymous. I should be the Spokesperson and President. I would probably also be the founding member.

Anyway, Trader Joe's carries my most favoritest of all fresh Mozzarella products. Perlini's. They're teeny tiny little balls of fresh Mozzarella heaven. My favorite thing to do with them is to mix them with some Bruschetta Mix, also from TJ's and eat them with a bunch of Sea Salt Pita Chips. This, my friends, was my lunch today.

I didn't intend on taking this picture, or even sharing my lunch with you, when I started eating it. But by the time I dug into it, I knew I had to at least share the combination with you. And then warn you that the garlic smell might seep out of your computer. THEN, I found a chunk of garlic. CHUNK. See it up there? On the littlest of Pita chips? Yea. That's garlic. OMG, mother-effing delicious garlic. And see the sickening amount of precious, life giving olive oil that's collected at the bottom of the bowl? As "good" as they say olive oil is for you, I'm pretty sure you're not supposed to drink it. Even if it's TBGFM flavored. OMG. Just breathe it in, people.

Bro's Before Ho's

*Edited from the former title of "Bro's Over Ho's" which is what I THOUGHT the saying was. Apparently I was wrong. But it's funny, because I suppose Bro's OVER Ho's has a totally different connotation. Get it?*

Dylan, August 2005
Not so sure about Peas

Zach, February 2008

More Peas, Please!

Dylan, August 2005

Zach, February 2008

Yes, that's the same blanket (thanks Aunt Patty!). And Yes, my toes look surprisingly similar. The carpet, however, looks much, much worse. And no, I didn't plan this little study in brotherly comparison. It just kinda happened. The universe is funny that way, sometimes.

How Stupid Do You Think I Am?

Or, more importantly, how effing stupid are people who actually buy into this bullshit?

An email I've received* recently, which you may have too, in some form or another.

Regarding Barack Hussein Obama (I've inserted numbers where I will be making remarks at the end of the email)

"Very interesting and something that should be considered in your choice.

If you do not ever forward anything else, please forward this to all your contacts...this is very scary to think of what lies ahead of us here in our own United States...better heed this and pray about it and share it.

We checked this out on " snopes.com". It is factual. Check for yourself. (1)

Who is Barack Obama?

Probable U. S. presidential candidate, Barack Hussein Obama was born in Honolulu, Hawaii , to Barack Hussein Obama, Sr., a black MUSLIM from Nyangoma-Kogel , Kenya and Ann Dunham, a white ATHIEST from Wichita, Kansas . Obama's parents met at the University of Hawaii. (2)When Obama was two years old, his parents divorced. (3) His father returned to Kenya . His mother then married Lolo Soetoro, a RADICAL Muslim from Indonesia . When Obama was 6 years old, the family relocated to Indonesia . Obama attended a MUSLIM school in Jakarta . He also spent two years in a Catholic school. (4) Obama takes great care to conceal the fact that he is a Muslim. He is quick to point out that, "He was once a Muslim, but that he also attended Catholic school." Obama's political handlers are attempting to make it appear that that he is not a radical. Obama's introduction to Islam came via his father, and that this influence was temporary at best. In reality, the senior Obama returned to Kenya soon after the divorce, and never again had any direct influence over his son's education. Lolo Soetoro, the second husband of Obama's mother, Ann Dunham, introduced his stepson to Islam. Obama was enrolled in a Wahabi school in Jakarta . Wahabism is the RADICAL teaching that is followed by the Muslim terrorists who are now waging Jihad against the western world. Since it is politically expedient to be a CHRISTIAN when seeking major public office in the United States , Barack Hussein Obama has joined the United Church of Christ in an attempt! to downplay his Muslim background. ALSO, keep in mind that when he was sworn into office he DID NOT use the Holy Bible, but instead the Koran. (5) Barack Hussein Obama will NOT recite the Pledge of Allegience nor will he show any reverence for our flag. (6) While others place their hands over their hearts, Obama turns his back to the flag and slouches. (7) Let us all remain alert concerning Obama's expected presidential candidacy. The Muslims (8) have said they plan on destroying the US from the inside out, what better way to start than at the highest level - through thePresident of the United States , one of their own!!!! Please forward to everyone you know. Would you want this man leading our country?...... NOT ME!!!"

Holy Shit, people. I don't even know where to start. Oh, yes I do because I've conveniently numbered it for my reading pleasure.

1) Snopes.com (is AWESOME if you don't know that already) refutes this entire email. See for yourself. Really, they do. But whoever masterminded this email banked on the fact that you'd be too stupid to check for yourself.
2) Oh crap, his parents were college educated. This CAN NOT be good.
3) Divorced parents? Where is this world headed?
4) No shit, he's Catholic? I really MAY have to re-think my voting choice now.
5) That was another black Senator. But that's an easy mistake because I know it's hard to tell the difference when all African American men look alike. Right?
6)


Oh yeah, and this too

7) Maybe he just needs a good Chiropractor? (That's just too ridiculous to even comment on)
8) "The Muslims". Really, ALL of them? Wow.

*It was sent to me by someone who was like "What the F*CK? This is ridiculous!" That someone will remained nameless, unless they'd like to claim their identity.

Also, this:

The audacity of the radical Muslim/Islamic Militant Presidential hopeful to be respectful of the culture of the country in which he is a visitor. Mind you, this is most likely being circulated (because I don't buy into the whole Hilary Clinton "anonymous" staffer thing), as a BAD thing, by the very same people who strongly believe that if you come to America you should speak English. Period. Hypocritical much?

And let's end with this.

Stealing Someone Else's Creativity

Because it's Make Me Laugh Monday and I don't have an original thought in my head. And because when I read this last week I thought it was hilarious and I'm pretty sure that if I did this with my comments it wouldn't be nearly as funny. Not because you guys aren't funny, but because...oh, hell. Whatever. Maybe I'll try it someday and see what I come up with.

So, go read this from The Bloggess.

Have a G-R-E-A-T Make Me Laugh Monday!

And for more Make Me Laugh Monday go visit Absolutely Bananas!

A Running Commentary On The Oscars

As I drink Corona with lime because, YES, I AM that classy and GASP! I RAN OUT OF WINE. It's never happened before and, as I swear on the very breath in my body, It. Will. NEVER. Happen. Again.

And now to the Oscars...

Funny Category-
1) Jon Stewart: Something to the effect of: "The only time we ever see a black or a woman President is if an asteroid is about to hit the Empire State Building"
2) Jon Stewart: Something to the effect of: "Oscar is 80 this year, which makes him the automatic front runner for the GOP nomination"
3) Um, okay, so, yeah. This isn't nearly as good as I'd hoped.

WTF? Category-
1) Katherine Heigl- Really? You're THAT nervous? Come on.
2) A Happy Little Working Song...seriously? Oscar nominated?
3) Keri Russell's husband's hair? She lets him out of the house like that?
4) Where the hell is Ben Affleck? Is he there and I just haven't seen him? Jen's there. His brother, who is nominated for HIS movie is there, but I haven't seen him. What's up with that? Can you explain it, internets? Can you?

Ahhhh... Category-
1) George Clooney...enough said
2) The Rock. Can YOU smell what The Rock is cooking? Because I can and I'd like some.
3) Javier Bardem kissing Josh Brolin. That's not REALLY my cup of tea, but if it were...HELLO! Am I right or am I right?

Meghan's Picks For Best Dressed-
1) Sarah Larson, simply because George Clooney was on her arm. He'd make anybody look good.
2) Keri Russell. I wasn't a fan of her dress, but thought she looked really pretty above the chest. I'm sure the men would argue that her chest looked good too. Whatev.


Holy Shit Category-
1) Who is that little girl singing? Wow.
2) OMG, it's Owen Wilson. Yay!

Best Speeches Category-
1) Marion Cotillard- I'm just going to leave it at that and say no one else wins for this category. Voting is closed. She is freaking adorable.

And is it just me, or is anybody else SO happy that Nicole Kidman got away from that whack job Tom Cruise? Keith Urban is SO MUCH HOTTER and less insane. Even given his struggles with drug & alcohol abuse. I'd totally pick him over Tom Scientology. In a heartbeat.

Oh, and have any of you ever tried to watch the Oscars while listening to this? I'll bet the answer is no. Again, the most annoying sound ever. Or, at least to ever come out of an adorable little baby.

And this wasn't even as bad as it was for most of the night. It drove me crazy. I finally just put him in his swing and ignored him. I didn't know what else to do with him. Poor kid. He's SO a second child.

P.S. I got bored and stopped paying attention. So, my list did not have anything added to it after about 7:15pm. I'm the worst Oscar commentator ever. Really. Ever.

Okay, just kidding. 'Cause Diablo Cody just won for best screenplay. Awesome, even though I've not seen the movie. Now that's stepping out of the box.

I'm All Tatt'd Up

Surprise! I did it! I finally got a tattoo. Isn't it purdy? I still need to go back to have it "filled in" with some color. It represents the four most important things in my life: DJ, Dylan, Zach and blogging. One circle for each. I might have a stem & some leaves added later to make it look like a flower. I'm not sure. I still haven't really decided how to finalize it.

You didn't believe me, did you? That's actually a burn I received a faw days ago from my damned hair dryer when I developed Butter-Finger Syndrome and dropped it. It hurt like a bitch, but it is kinda pretty, right? Thats what I'm telling myself in the event that it creates a scar.

On another note, I was about ready to call in professional nanny/wet nurse assistance last night when Zach suddenly developed Mother-Effing Insomina. Of course this occurred when I felt like ass and was lying in bed as still as could be taking deep breaths and thinking "HolymotherofgodI'mgoingtothrowupanymomentanditsgoingtobehorriblepleasemakeitstop."

For some reason he decided to pick last night to use me as a pacifier because his ACTUAL pacifier just Would. Not. Do. All night. ALL freakin' NIGHT. Plus, he started making that godawful noise again yesterday and he also thought that he'd use last night as an opportunity to perfect it. So I couldn't even ignore him and hope he'd go back to sleep. That noise reverberated throughout the house and was SURE to wake Dylan up. He never even cried. And every time I went in there he'd get all excited and smile and kick his crib and pound his little arms on the mattress as he does every time I go into his room to get him. He's a little shit. He was just wide awake and wanted to spend time with someone. He did not understand my explanation that mommy was tired and felt like crap, or if he did understand he didn't even care.

He's lucky he's so damn cute.

Just Set It and Forget It!!!

Have you ever bought anything from an infomercial? Like a juicer or a meat roasting contraption or soap? Or have you ever bought anything BECAUSE of an infomercial? Like, you were too embarassed to actually order it form the 800 number, so you logged on to the website or Amazon or EBay to purchase it, or snatched it up when you saw it at Target or the As Seen On TV Store? Or, have you ever jumped in your car and driven directly to the As Seen On TV Store for a specific item immediately after seeing it on TV?

I ask this because A) it's Saturday morning and my TV is littered with "Paid Programming" and B) because I'm actually considering ordering something I've Seen On TV. Two things, actually.

First, I totally want to jump onto the "Bare Minerals" bandwagon. Really. I do. I've even figured out what shade I need to order (light to medium). My hope, as is the hope of any dope who's ever fallen for the claims of an infomercial, is that it actually IS AS AWESOME AS THEY CLAIM. Will I end up with flawless looking skin? Will it make my skin glow and radiate and shine and reflect light and make me look downright awesome? Will it? Will it? Will it? Can you tell me? Will it?

Second, I want, no, I NEED, the Pancake Puffs pan. Hello?! Pepperoni Pizza Puffs? Meatball Sandwich Puffs? Pigs In A Blanket Puffs? Sign me up! Right. Now. I know, I know, I astound you with my gourmet sensibilities. But really, I want it. That shit is right up my alley. I wonder if you could stick mozzarella (or better yet, smoked mozzarella) tomato & basil in there? Are the possibilities really endless? Could I spend hours coming up with Puffs recipes and then come back to you to report on them? Then, you too could order a Pancake Puffs pan and join in on the fun! OMG! It could be a whole blog carnival thing. Like, every Tuesday (what day doesn't have a gimmick attached to it yet? I can't keep up) we could all come together and make some sort of puff recipe. Just kidding. That totally wouldn't work, but that's JUST HOW EXCITED I am about my impending perfectly palatable Pancake Puff pan purchase.

And, in the interest of full disclosure, the two things I've purchased from informercials are:
1) ProActiv as a zitty, oily skinned teen ager. It worked. I used it until about two years ago when I crossed my fingers and hoped that age and pregnancy had changed my skin enough that I would be able to survive without it. It had. Although I still keep some on hand Just. In. Case. Like, for when I develop a zit on my chin, which happend yesterday. Sweet. I'm 15 again.
2) Winsor Pilates. 20 minutes a day, three days a week?! Even I could do that. And, I'll look like Daily Fuentes. Awesome. Sadly, the VHS tapes are stacked with all my other VHS tapes in the cabinet in my bedroom.

So, have you ever ordered something from an infomercial? Have you ever WANTED to order something from an Infomercial but didn't? And, I didn't even upon up the can of worms that is QVC, HSN or the best one EVER, Celebrity Shopping Network. And I had NO idea that ProActiv & Winsor Pilates would be the top two products on the CSN homepage until I just went there. Awesome. See how awesome I am?

Most importantly, though...Will Bare Minerals work for me? Will it?

Friday Recipe - 2/22/08

Because it's supposed to rain here today and because it's snowing/icing elsewhere in the country. Or at the very least it may well be damn cold where you are.

Oh, and because anything by Paula Deen, especially with this much butter, must be good. And it's SUPAH easy. You, yes YOU can do this. Especially if you buy frozen, chopped onion. It'll save you a step, and as far as I'm concerned, not having to chop onion is a HUGE advantage. Oh, and if you're a vegetarian, you can just use Vegetable Broth instead of Chicken Broth. But you probably already knew that.

Chef Jack's Corn Chowder

Recipe Courtesy of Paula Deen

1 cup (2 sticks) butter
1 small onion, diced
1 small carrot, finely diced
1 small celery stalk, diced
1 clove garlic, minced
1/2 cup all-purpose flour
3 cups white corn kernels, fresh or frozen
3 cups chicken stock
2 cups half-and-half
Pinch freshly grated nutmeg
Kosher salt and freshly ground black pepper

Melt 1 stick of butter in a large saucepan over medium heat. Add the onion, carrot, celery, and garlic, and saute for 2 minutes. Add the flour and stir to make a roux. (Stir constantly, don't let the rue darken too much or you'll have to start over 'cause it'll taste icky) Cook until the roux is lightly browned; set aside to cool to room temperature.

Meanwhile, combine the corn and chicken stock in another saucepan, and bring to a boil. Simmer for 10 minutes. Pour the boiling stock with the corn (a little at a time) into the saucepan with the roux, whisking briskly so it doesn't lump. Return the skillet to the heat and bring to a boil. The mixture should become very thick.

In a small saucepan, gently heat the half-and-half; stir it into the thick corn mixture. Add the nutmeg and salt and pepper, to taste. Just before serving, cut the remaining stick of butter into large chunks. Add it to enrich the soup, stirring until the butter melts.

*Now come on, that's easy, right? And don't let the term "Rue" scare you. It's simply equal parts of butter (or other fat like olive oil) and flour that you mix together and use to thicken soups and stews, or sauces. That's not scary, is it? Nope...it's yummy.

Linky Love Thursday, Is it?

Apparently, the waning (or is it waxing) moon has brought with it some luck and linky love.

Right after I hit publish on my last post, I went over to Autobiography of My Feet, who also has a link to me on her site! And, she's also just posted some beautiful pictures of the lovely New York City.

Go see them! Now! Go! And then come back because I was tagged for a Meme by Vintage Thirty about 6 years ago and I'm finally doing it.

The Rules:

1. Link to the person who tagged you
2. Post the rules on your blog.
3. Share seven random and/or weird facts about yourself on your blog.
4. Tag seven random people at the end of your post, and include links to their blogs.
5. Leave a comment on their blogs so that they know they have been tagged

So, here we go.

1) I played softball, and I was pretty good, when I was younger. I might have played in high school & college if my ass-hat of a coach hadn't threatened to hit his daughter in front of me. I got up in his face and pretty much told him off. I was 15 or 16. He was the coach for the Varsity Softball team. That effectively ended my softball playing career. But it was worth it.

2) I had very few friends my senior year of High School. We moved from New York to Sacramento the summer between junior & senior year. I knew no one and did not really fit in. It was pathetic, especially considering the fact that

3) I was a home coming princess and Junior Prom princess at my high school in New York. I had friends. People liked me. I liked people. It was nothing like my senior year.

4) I used to throw up for no reason. At least not any reason any Doctor could come up with. It started in college and continued for a while after I graduated. I'd wake up in the middle of the night and spend the next 8 hours on the bathroom floor. No rhyme or reason to it. It sucked.

5) I have a minor heart thingy (condition sounds much too serious). Premature Ventricular Contractions. It doesn't happen all the time, but when it does, it feels like my heart skips a beat. And I can FEEL it. It's really strange. And has caused much anxiety when applying for new Health Insurance. It has not, at this point, precluded me from getting new health insurance.

6) I have never received a speeding ticket. I've never even been pulled over. And I've certainly deserved it a time or two. In fact, the other day, I was in the lead of 3 cars and we passed a motorcycle cop. He came out, lights on, so we all pulled over. He waved me and the car behind me on and kept the third car in line. It was a minivan.

7) I MUST have a cup of coffee the moment I get out of bed in the morning. It's the first thing I do every day. Even if there is a child who needs to be fetched from his crib. He must wait until I make my cup of coffee and take a sip. There's no getting around it.

*Instead of tagging 7 more people, I'm just going to encourage you to look to the right (at my blogroll) and visit some of those sites. Enjoy!

I Need To Impress, So I'll Tell You What a Poor Mother I Am

People! Holy Shite! The pressure is on! I've been linked to and my most recent post sucked donkey arse.

And linked to by Jennifer at Playgroups Are No Place For Children, no less. Holy Shite! What do I do? What do I DOOOOOOO????? I can't disappoint.

Hey, wait a minute...at first I thought she was trying to make it up to me for stealing my pretend boyfriend, but I'm beginning to think she's just trying to stick it to me even harder. Seriously? What could I have possibly done to tick her off enough to steal my pretend boyfriend AND stress me out unnecessarily? Is it because I sided with Tate that one time? That just took me FOREVER to find. Is she still mad about that and trying to get back at me?

Or, does she just appreciate my wry, self-depricating sense of humor. It's probably that. Right?

Either way, here's what I was going to share with you today. I'm trying to dazzle you with my amazingly shitty parenting skills.
~~~
I was planning on telling you all, as I shared with Jennifer H over at Thursday Drive, that I am NOT going to win any Mommy of the Year Awards any time soon.

For the past few months (MONTHS people, months!) Dylan has been driving us CRAZY with this new found terror of power tools and any other device that makes any sort of noise. He screams, he cries, he runs away in terror. Most importantly, he covers his ears. We didn't think much of it, since covering his ears is his way of "hiding." When strangers talk to him, or he thinks he's in trouble, he covers his ears. We have no idea where this came from. But, we figured his newly developed imagination had led him to believe that noisy things were somehow dangerous and it would be in his best interest to stay away from them.

Jump to last week, when we found out he has a DOUBLE ear infection. Ouch, right? Probably painful. Shove some antibiotics down his throat and guess what? He's not terrified of noises anymore. He covers his ears when he's anticipating them, but then he takes his hands away. No more terror. No more tears and running away.

OMG, people. It was his EARS! He wasn't just being a pain in the ass, he HAD a pain in the ass, or ear drum, as the case may be. How long could this have been going on? It's been MONTHS that he's been super sensitive to noises, but it NEVER occurred to me it was because his ears HURT him.

If you feel the need to call Child Protective Services on me, please just give me a heads up so I can get the matches away from Zach before they show up. I'd appreciate it.

And now, a cute baby picture to show you that at least ONE of my children is happy and content and well cared for.

A Photo Retrospective Of The Past Two Years Of My Life

The Kitchen Re-Model*

(That should say trip to Memphis. I'm a dufus)

These were all taken in the past week...

My purdy new tile

*If you're like WTF? The water leaking out of my house was a burst hot water pipe in my slab foundation. The best way to fix it was to re-run the water to the house via the attic. Therefore, we had to rip out the cabinets to get the pipes down the wall. Therefore, we decided to take the bull by the horns and replace the entire kitchen. Therefore, we had our heads up our ass and it's taken us TWO years and we're still not done. Therefore, it's driving me crazy. Therefore, I called a tile guy to FINALLY lay my floor. Oh, and we still don't have hot water to the boys bathroom or to the washing machine. So, if you come to stay with us, you're forced to use our shower and I've been using Tide Cold Water forEVER.

If you're still like What the F*ck is she talking about, just read this.

The Full Moon Can Kiss My Ass

I don't really buy into all that lunar bullsh*t, birth signs, tarot cards, palm readers, etc., but today? Today I think there might be something to it. Tonight is a full moon (and a full lunar eclipse no less) and I've had 20 hours of nothing but friggin' headaches. Not actual headaches, but figurative, this situation is a pain in the ass, headaches.

We've having tile laid in our dining room/kitchen area. The floor has been 1/2 linoleum and half concrete for the past year and a half. (The story behind that is coming, trust me. With lots of pictures, with captions!) We bought this beautiful porcelain tile in June of 2006 and made sure to order plenty so that we would have enough when we finally got around to laying it. So what happened? Yep. We're short. WAY freakin' short. Somehow we either mis-measured (DJ) or mis-ordered (Me). So, there's this bare part in front of the sink/dishwasher/door to garage area. I called to order more tile. Yep. No longer available. Lots of scratching of heads, chins and frowning later, we gave up and called it a night.

I spent this morning on the phone with the manufacturer/importer in SPAIN with them giving me the numbers of different tile stores throughout the U.S. who had ordered the tile within the last year, and MIGHT still have some in stock. Fingers crossed. But alas, no.

OH! And before I got on the phone with Spain this morning? Zach threw up ALL OVER himself. And me! And the couch! And the floor!*

And now back to my tile saga. So, with my tail between my legs, the boys and I headed over to the tile store to talk to my tile lady (is it bad that she remembers me from 1 1/5 years ago?) and get some ideas for WHAT THE HELL TO DO WITH MY BARE SPOT. After much discussion and picture drawing by me, and a trip to the bathroom for Dylan (!), we finally decided on laying down tile that looks like wood. My hope is that, when we go to sell the house, the people who buy it will just think we made a bad design choice instead of thinking we're complete assholes who spent a shitload of money on tile and couldn't freaking order the right amount.

OH! And while we were at the tile store? Dylan decided to be a pain in the ass. They have this cool castle built with manufactured stone product with toys in it to keep the little guys occupied while their parents make shitty design choices pick out their tile. He decides that he doesn't want to play with the blocks IN the castle, he wants to play with them by me. So he starts to pull the little wagon-y block holder over to me. I tell him "No, you need to leave those in the castle and play with them there." To which he replies "NO. I don't want to" and do you know what he does? The little bastard DUMPS the wagon-y thing out on the floor in the middle of the tile showroom. I almost killed him. I dragged him and the wagon-y thing back to the castle and bent down to give him a piece of my mind when, WHAP! OW!, I smack my forehead into the book shelf.

So, now my figurative headache has become a full blown REAL headache and my beautiful tile floor is costing me an extra $250.00. Right on.

Like I said, the full moon can kiss my ass.

*Don't worry Grandmaother, I think Zach threw up because he coughed really hard, not because he's coming down with some stomach bug. Although the stomach bug would not surprise me one bit. Just add it to my list of headaches.

Put Me In A Straight-Jacket and Institutionalize Me

Okay, so I realize, much to DJ's chagrin, that I've outed myself to you people as being completely insane. On more than one occassion. But I really, seriously, truly need to be tossed into the Looney Bin. That's probably not politically correct. The Crazy House? No, that doesn't work either. The Insane Asylum? Do those even still exist? Okay, whatever. You get the point.

But after last night, it's been reconfirmed. Sign it, Stamp it, Certify it and stick it in the mail. I'm Certifiable.

It all started out innocently enough.

Put Zach to bed. Check. Sleeping soundly, no wheezing, hacking or visible discomfort.

Put Dylan to bed. Check. "I don't need a book" means I just want to go to sleep. Fine. "Good night. No Bugs. See you in the Mornin!"

Cut to 3:00am. I'm awakened by something. I'm not sure what, just something. I listen. It's hard to hear over DJ's snoring breathing (he's still stuffy). Then I hear it. Dylan coughing. No, HACKING. Bad. Like, really bad. I jump out of bed and race to his room. Um, no. He's sound asleep. Doesn't even wake up when I go bounding in there.

Okay, back to bed. I must have been dreaming and it woke me up and I was uneasy from the dream and was still half (or 3/4) asleep and thought I heard something, but I really didn't and I need to just forget about it and go back to sleep. Nothing to see here, folks. Head on pillow, eyes closed. Almost asleep.

Again, there's something. I roll over, sit up and listen. Definitely, something. Coming from outside, maybe? It sounds like someone screaming, crying. A toddler? Outside at 3:00am in the 40 degree weather? No. Maybe? I open my window and listen. Muffled freeway noises. Night noises. "You're hearing things" I tell myself. There are no abandoned children wailing outside your house in the middle of the night. "But" I think, "remember that urban legend about the murderer who plays a recording of a baby crying to get people to open their doors and then he attacks and kills them. What if it's that? What if it's NOT that and someone has ACTUALLY left a baby outside my door. Clearly, they've seen my awesome parenting skills and have chosen ME as the best person to raise their child." CLEARLY, the don't read this blog. There is no noise, there is no abandoned child, there is no serial killer playing tapes of crying babies. Just my imagination, once again running wild. So, back to bed. Again.

Again, something. My attention is drawn to the baby monitor. ZACH! OMG, It's Zach! I, literally, FLY out of bed and into his room. He's lying there, asleep, making these creepy little moaney-type noises upon every exhale. HOLY SHIT. There must be something wrong with him. Some terrible case of RSV, newly developed from his little innocent cough. His lungs don't work and he can't get enough air. (Mind you, I JUST commented to Mrs. Flinger that RSV is not nearly as dangerous in older babies as it is in little newborns, but that realistic outlook doesn't cross my mind at 3:15 in the morning. Or when it's my child. DUH, I'm prone to freaking out.) So I turn on the hallway light, pick my baby up and inspect him. Blue lips? No. Bluish fingernails? No. He starts to fuss. Oh, shit. I'm waking him up. Insert pacifier. He fidgets, opens his eyes. Looks at me like "Where the hell did you come from?" and gives me a little smile. I sit down with him in the rocking chair and get him back to sleep, all the while I monitor his breathing for any irregularities. There are none, save for the occassional moaney-type noise upon exhale and occassional little cough. Put him back to bed. Watch him for a few minutes to make sure he's fine. Go back to bed myself. Lie there, thinking about the HUGE probability that he's going to stop breathing at ANY MOMENT and return to his room to bring him to bed with me. At least I can keep my eye on him, and in the event of his imminent death, I can be there for CPR until the paramedics arrive.

So what happens? I bring him to bed with me, he sleeps. And BREATHES . I lie there, wide awake. Still freaked out about the serial killer and the abandoned child. Once I forget about those things, I start to think about, what else? BLOGGING. Holy shit, people. I laid there, in bed, with my breathing child, at 3:30 AM, and thought about how I would relay this whole incident to you, the internets. Really, I did. For, like, an hour maybe. I kid you not.

Now, if thinking there was a serial killer playing the sound of a crying baby, or that someone would actually PICK me to raise their abandoned child, OR that I was convinced my baby was about to die because he was making a kinda funny noise WHILE BREATHING, if all that wasn't enough evidence to prove that I need to be committed, surely the fact that I laid in bed and wrote my blog post IN MY HEAD about the whole situation is proof enough. Yes?

All I can say is that I hope they have wireless interent in the psychiatric hospital.

Oh, and this post was much more amusing in my head in the middle of the night than it is right now. Why is that?

I Heart Matt Damon

Have you all seen this? It's EVERYWHERE, so unless you live under a rock you've probably already seen it. Oh, you haven't seen it? Sorry. Um, living under a rock really isn't all that bad. I mean, bugs do it. And Patrick from Spongebob, so you've got some good company.

If you're offended by the bleeped out word "F*ck" then you might not like the video. But it's really funny, so take a leap and watch it. Especially if you like Matt Damon cause he's freakin' hilarious. And, in case you're not aware, Sarah Silverman (the girl) is dating Jimmy Kimmel in real life and Jimmy & Matt have an ongoing "feud" on their show. Matt keeps getting bumped. But you can see a few background videos after this one. Oh, and be sure to turn your volume up. Okay, now, enjoy.



And for some background, there's an ongoing dispute between Jimmy & Matt:






*You can find more Make Me Laugh Monday entries at Absolutely( Bon Bon) Bananas, the site of our gracious (and funny) host.

6 Months Come & Gone

My baby turned 6 months old today, and I totally didn't even remember until 8:00pm. Luckily, I remembered before he went to bed and we did some celebratory "tossing" in the air. He's quite the daredevil. I can't wait to find out what the next 6 months have in store!

Happy Half Birthday, Little Boy! Momma loves you!

Some Randumb Stuff

And yes, I know random is spelled incorrectly.

1. Quart, this is for you. It's too late to call you and I'm afraid I'll forget (again) but it totally makes me think of your guest post. Swistle has created a new blog, dedicated completely to baby naming quandries. Maybe, sorta, kinda helpful?
2. I have taken the leap and decided to commit myself to participating in Make Me Laugh Monday. See? I even added the button to my sidebar. It's actually perfect timing, as I'm changing my schedule and will be going to Santa Barbara on Mondays now (instead of the usual Tuesday) so this will give me an opportunity to prepare my post ahead of time. Kinda like I do on Friday. I will most certainly be using other people's material as putting the pressure on myself to come up with something funny may just be too much.
3. Dylan is back to pooping in a diaper. I can't handle the stress of FIGHTING with him about going on the potty, so I've given in and am letting him use the diaper for that ONLY. Even through his little illness he did a SUPA FAB job of peeing on the potty, even out in public. Now, I'm back to dealing with Zach's shpoop. He's got whatever little bug Dylan had and, although he's (at this point) not nearly as sick as Dylan was, he's got somethin' nasty happening in his diaper. Poor kid. It looks something like it did in the picture from this post, although the most recent diaper was green and EVERYWHERE. See, aren't you glad I share these things with you? How would you survive if I didn't? Really.

So, yeah. I guess that's about it. Let's recap, shall we?

• Swistle created a new blog dedicated to baby naming quandries
• Check back tomorrow for something to make you laugh. Every time I see it again I think it's funnier than the last time.
• I continue to share entirely too much about my children's poop. Yet, you keep coming back. I'm not sure what to think about that.

Write Me A Love Letter, Pre-School Style

Reasons Why I Can't Wait for Dylan to Be A LITTLE* Bit Older:


1) From Plain Jane Mom

2) From June Cleaver Nirvana

3) From KEEP BELIEVING

4) From Greeblemonkey (for some reason, I can't link directly to the post, but you can find her here.)

*This, in no way, implies that I want him to grow up quickly. I. DO. NOT. I'm just looking forward to the time when he can make me laugh with funny stuff he writes, or with funny stuff other kids write to him.

Not To Be Depressing

The end of the story. So sad. But, hopefully not the end. Hopefully the asshole who did this will be caught and appropriately punished, although I'm not sure what would be appropriate. Death by painful, awful, excruciatingly horrible means seems too good. Maybe fully awake, pain med free castration (S.L.O.W.L.Y.) would help, but still not be enough.

On another note, and another local story, this is a bit more uplifting (I know, I know, three people died, but Frankie is amazing, as are her rescuers. Let's try to concentrate on that and we'll have a silent moment for the three people killed in the crash, including her best friend Talia). I'm desperately trying to find the video, but am having no such luck. The written word just doesn't do the story justice. Anyway, Frankie is awesome and the Panamanian men who rescued her are also awesome. I heart them. If I find the video I'll let you know.

I have not a creative, original thought in my head. I think dealing with sickie Dylan for the past few days has finally caught up with me. He's 1000% better, just as Zach starts to cough. GREAT. Really freakin' great. Hopefully tomorrow I can come to you with something to say, but for now, no such luck.

Oh, I am toying with the idea of participating in Absolutely Banana's Make Me Laugh Monday campaign. I'm just hopeful I can do it justice. We'll see.

A Dylan Update

So, Zach's appointment turned into Dylan's appointment today. Of course, the Doctor is going out of town for TWO weeks after today, so he was booked solid and had no time to fit Dylan in. I probably could have seen another Doc, but I'm a pain in the ass like that. So Zach got the boot and Dylan got to go see the Doctor. The entire time he said "I don't want to see the Doctor." "I don't want to be sick." "I want to go HOOOOMMMMMEEEEE." It was all very sad and pathetic.

Turns out he has TWO NASTY ear infections. Who knew? Ear infections were honestly something that had NEVER even crossed my mind. I'm shocked. SHOCKED. But it makes sense. And, following a HEAVY dose of antibiotic (for the ears), Claritin (for the congestion) and Tylenol (for the pain), he's starting to act like an ALMOST normal Dylan. So, I'm going to keep him heavily drugged for the next few days and heavily anti-biotic'd for the next 10 days, and then we'll be in the clear. This just makes me wonder how many times before he's had an ear infection that we never knew about. He still won't tell us that his ears hurt.

Oh, and DJ's sick now, too. What IS it with men?

And, a little quiz:

Q. What is the one thing you DO NOT want to hear when your child is sick?
A. We're out of wine. Uh-Oh, Mommy. Look (at what I just threw up).
I heard that at least four times in the past two days. F.U.N.

Friday Non-Recipe, 2/15/08

Sorry, my peeps. No recipe today. Dylan's sick with a cough/cold/fever (averaging about 102) combo and has severely inhibited my internet time. Damn kids. Oh, and my Zach time. Poor neglected child.

SO, I wasn't able to put together a recipe for today. I know you're disappointed.

I did make these the other day and they were yummy. All you have to do is add water and stir. So, unless you can't measure or stir, it's hard to mess up, unless you forget they're in your oven and burn them. So, don't do that, and you're good to go.

Oh, and apparently you can buy a 22 pack on Am*zon.com. I'm too tired from spending the night with a hacking, talking in his sleep (who knew?) (Almost!) Three Year Old to spend time finding a better picture or fixing this one. My apologies.

Hope y'all have a good day. Zach has his 6 month (OMG! SIX months! Gah!) well baby visit today, so wish him luck. Hopefully the fat in his chubby little thighs will take the brunt of the needle blows and he'll come out relatively unscathed. Wish me him luck.

Open Mouth, Insert Foot

Have you ever said something so mind-numbingly stupid that you wanted to melt away and disappear, right there on the spot? This WOULD have happened to me last night if I'd been with people other than my in-laws. What I said was still mind-numbingly stupid, but I didn't want to melt away. I just laughed and thanked my lucky stars I wasn't with people I felt the need to IMPRESS, because, let me tell you, what I said was FAR from impressive.

It all started because of this incident:
**Contains footage that will make you close your eyes, cover them with your hands and peek through your fingers, because you just HAVE to see what happens, even though it makes you feel physically ill. It's like a really bad car accident. You can't look away even though you REALLY don't want to see the horrors.**


So, anyway. We were at Ou*back having dinner (can I get a "Whoot Whoot" for the Queensland Salad?!) discussing current events. Like when our kids pooped last, how awful night shifts are for my sister-in-law, etc, when I have the genius idea to bring up the above referenced incident. I'd seen it on TV the night before and had JUST read the article in the local paper. Yes! We saw it! Oh My God, how awful was that? Did it sever a vein or an artery or something? WHAT EXACTLY HAPPENED? everyone says.

Oh, Oh! Pick me! Pick me! I KNOW THIS!!!! I JUST READ IT IN THE PAPER!!! I watch Discovery Health! I'm totally knowledgeable about human anatomy! TOTALLY.

"Well, what happened was, his teammate's skate came flying up at him and cut across his neck and severed his CARTOID artery. " Blank stares. "His WHAT?" sayd DJ. "His CARTOID (like CAR-TOYED) artery. Apparently it supplies blood to the brain. Unlike the jugular vein which takes blood away from the brain." Duh, I think. These losers are SO stupid.
DJ looks at me incredulously and starts to laugh. "I think you mean "Carotid" artery." "NO", I say, starting to feel foolish, because I KNOW what the CAR-O-TID artery is. Duh. "The newspaper said it was his 'CAR-TOID' artery. And anyway, isn't 'carotid' artery spelled "corotted"?

To make a long story short, people, I'm apparently dyslexic and read "carotid" at "cartoid" and thought there was some new, previoulsy unknown to me, artery in the neck. There is not. And it's spelled "CAROTID" not "COROTTED."

DJ said it was the "most un-educated thing" he's ever heard me say. I guess that's meant to be a compliment. Right?

And that concludes our anatomy lesson for the day. Unless you want to hear about my cervix, in which case you can just scroll down. Enjoy.

Labor: To Epidural or Not to Epidural

So, three posts have drawn my attention to this matter today, and being as it's not sunny & 75* degrees here today, I'm feeling like sitting on the couch and wasting my day away blogging. Before you go on, please refer here, here and here. If, however, you are PREGNANT and HORMONAL (Quart), Clinically depressed or prone to periodic depressive episodes when you read something sad, I BEG of you to NOT, I repeat DO NOT read any more than the post I've linked to on Mrs. Dub's Musings & Misadventures blog. Seriously...Quart, I'm talking to you. Don't, for the love of all that is good, read any further. Please.

Back to the topic at hand: Epidurals. I have VERY strong opinions about this, which I'm sure is a complete shock to you all. Or not, but whatever.

And when I say I have VERY STRONG OPINIONS about this, I mean for ME. Not necessarily for everyone else**, but, when it comes to MY getting an epidural the answer is HELL YES and HOW SOON? Really. It's true. Both times I went to the hospital to have my boys the very first one of the very first things I said was "I want an epidural. How soon can we make that happen?" Really. It's true. And when I finally got my epidural? Oh, Holey Pancakes, people, my cervix did a backflip and dilated INSTANTLY. It's like it was REWARDING me for putting it out of it's misery. Here's how it went down:

Me: Epidural! Epidural! I'm ready! I'm 5 centimeters. These contractions are starting to hurt like a MotherF*cker. Get me the epidural....PLEEEEEEAAAAAASE!!!!!!

My Cervix: Yes! Get us an epidural! Now, PLEEEEEAAAAASE! This stretching hurts like a bitch! I'm not SUPPOSED to get THIS HUGE. It wasn't my decision to get knocked up! WHY, OH WHY am I being punished this way?

Anesthesiologist: Will you both please stop yelling at me? I'm trying to get this needle stuck into your SPINE, so chill out. You're making my hands shake and you DON'T want my hands to shake. May I remind you I'm sticking a NEEDLE INTO YOUR SPINE.

Me & My Cervix, simultaneoulsy: of course. carry on.

Cut to 10 minutes later.

Me: Ahhh....that's SO much better. DJ, why are you holding your hand like that? What the hell happened to you?! You big ninny. I'm the one who's about to PUSH a living HUMAN out of my Ya-hoo.

DJ: You are freakishly strong. I always thought people were exaggerating when they were saying women in labor squeeze your hand really hard. Ouch. (Seriously, that's what he said...he really never BELIEVED that it hurt as much as they made you believe on TV. Gah!)

Me: Bite me.

My Cervix: LaLa Lalaaaaaaaaa. I feel GREAT. And PRETTY and oh, so USEFUL! Finally! I've waited my WHOLE life to feel useful! As a reward, I will dilate IMMEDIATELY! NOW! I MUST! This epidural makes me feel SO ALIVE!

Fast forward 50 more minutes:

Nurse: I'm going to check you to see how you're progressing. Oh, look at that! You're fully dilated and at +1! You're ready to push! Your cervix REALLY IS USEFUL. And, my, don't you look AMAZING for someone just about to have a baby. Really, just amazing. ***

~~~
That, my friends, is basically how my labor with Dylan went down. I pushed for 50 minutes and out he came. It was pretty much the same with Zach, except that I was induced and got my epidural, I kid you not, before they really even started me on the drugs. It was AWESOME. I felt nary a contraction, and within a few hours felt "pressure" "down there," got checked and, lo and behold, he was about to fall out. Really. He almost fell out. The Doc came in, gowned up, which shortly thereafter proved to be a REALLY GOOD CALL (which is a REALLY funny, if not totally disgusting story. Unfortunately for you, it's really only funny to HEAR DJ tell it, so I'll spare you. But take my word for it, it's really funny. And sickening at the same time), and told me to push. I pushed a few times and out he came.

So, there you go. I heart epidurals. I completely, absolutely, whole-heartedly, 100%, Hell, 10000000000% believe that it was my epidural that hastened my labor and made it, dare I say, pleasant. I was present, comfortable, rested and READY. The boys were both healthy specimens immediately, no ill effects suffered from their drug induced introduction to the world. And, Zach was even 3 full weeks early. Oh, and in case you care and because I've already shared SO much, so why not a little bit more, I didn't need an episiotomy. Which I suppose has nothing to do with my epidural, but I thought I'd throw it out there anyway. You're welcome.

*It's ONLY 63 degrees here today. And cloudy, which makes it feel SO MUCH COLDER. Like, 60 or something.
**I do, however, think you are certifiably insane if you choose a birth sans drugs. Really, I do. As I said in my comment to Mrs. Dub, my take on it is this: Yes, women thousands of years ago did not have epidurals and they successfully birthed children without them. But, they also didn't have microwaves to cook with, so should we not use those either? Uh, NO! I don't think so. Why, for the love of cheese, would you CHOOSE to bring a child into this world while in TOTAL & COMPLETE pain if you didn't have to. But, to each his own, I suppose.
***I've taken a few creative liberties here. The nurse didn't ACTUALLY say "your cervix really is useful." But, I like to continue to make it feel useful and productive in the event that I can strong arm trick convince DJ to have another baby. In, like 3 years. Or so.

A Photo Essay of My Life

I totally copied this from Vintage Thirty, who copied it from Lulu. The rules, to quote Tootsie Farklepants, who was quoting Lulu, "for this meme are (and to quote Lulu herself): "to answer the questions below using only pictures found online (only the first page of results)." Got it?

1) The age you will be at your next Birthday. As Dylan would say, It's a BIG one!

2) A place you'd like to visit. MMMMM....food & wine...mmmmmm

3) Your favorite place. Never get to go. sigh...weep4)Your favorite object. Without it, where would the G-Wine Posse be?

5) Your favorite food. All the food groups. Kinda.

6) Your favorite animal. Have I mentioned this before?

7) Your favorite color. Really. Just look at my carpet.

8) The city in which you were born. Or so I'm told.

9) The town in which you live. Excuse me while I go get a BIG glass of wine...

10) The name of your pet.

11) The first name of your love. He'll be so proud.

12) Your nickname/screen name. WTF?

13) Your middle name. Again, WTF?

14) Your last name. Holy Hell, it's DJ!

15) A bad habit of yours.

16) Your first job. AWESOMEness.

17) Your dream job. But not with him.

18) Your current job. I AM hot!


19) A picture you find hilarious. Poor dog.

20) Something that inspires you. Hell YES WE CAN!

Now, get busy to do this yourself. It's fun! And TIME CONSUMING. Excuse me while I go feed my child. I think he'd appreciate it.