I Have Questions For You...

Did y'all see what happened here the other day? You prob'aly din't. (I have NO IDEA why I just typed that sentence that way, I just felt like it.) Anyway, BOSSY left a comment. You know...BOSSY. I almost spit out my iced tea when I saw her name pop up. I haven't been able to delete the email that says "Bossy has left a comment..." because it's just. too. awesome. If you're not sure who Bossy is, you don't know what you're missing. My sister, though, apparently knows who Bossy is.

As her comment on my recent post points out, and I quote: "That was pretty funny, but I still think I enjoyed Bossy's reenactment of the Oprah/Cruise interview more . . . http://www.iambossy.com/i_am_bossy/2008/05/for-those-of-yo.html"

WHAT.EV, Biatch. In her defense she asked me yesterday if that was "In poor form" or something like that. As in "Should I NOT have linked to a blog that I think is funnier than yours on a day when you were attempting to post something funny?" Ya think? But, it IS a funny post and it IS Bossy, so I let it slide. Just this once.

In other commenting news, my idea for AllMediocre seems to be receiving a lot of support. And by a lot, I mean that half of you (the ones not already listed on Alltop) thought it was a GREAT idea. And one of you even offered to defect. I think you were just being nice, but I'll take it anyway. I'll have to put some thought into this whole crazy idea. You all thought I was being all tongue-in-cheek and self-deprecating...just you wait, my friends, just you wait. I've got plans...big plans.

AND, in other, "I've Got Plans, BIG Plans" news, did I mention that I'm not going to BlogHer and that it makes me shed a tear or two every time I think of it? Especially since it's a hop, skip & a jump away for me? Gah! I have an idea for that as well. But it's just an idea so far and if it ends up being just as expensive as actually going to BlogHer it won't end up happening. And I want to go to the People's Party, damn it. There're going to be awesome people there. Damn. I hate missing out on a good party. Plans, people, I've got plans. Oh, and if any of you are driving up the 101 to get to San Francisco, you're welcome to come over and hang out. Or use my bathroom, or whatever. I'll even clean it for you.

Now for my questions:

1) Are you going to BlogHer?
2) If so, would you be willing to participate in a drinking game dedicated to me?
3) Do you read Dooce?
4) If so, you read this. If not, go read it. (I realize that's not a question)
5) Did you see her on the Today Show today? Did you want to slap Kathy Lee too?
6) Do you ALWAYS want to slap Kathy Lee & today was no different?
7) I'm in need of song suggestions to add to my IPod. So...what 4 songs, in your opinion, can my IPod NOT live without? It's heavy with Colbie Caillet and Leona Lewis. I need some music from peeps who's first & last name start with different letters. You know, just to change it up a bit.

And I leave you with this video of Zach. He's a mover and a shaker now and is quite determined to get at what ever toy (or TV remote) catches his eye. He also makes this really funny face when he's excited and breathes really fast out of his nose, which makes a funny noise. It's adorable and makes me want to nibble on his cheeks every time.

A Long Time Coming

All righty, people. I'm weighing in on the whole Alltop, Sony, Johnson's Baby Camp Hullabaloo. If you have no idea what I'm talking about, you can probably skip down a few paragraph's where I'll fill you in on some other fascinating things going on in my life. Like how I'm TOTALLY famous thanks to The Bloggess. For real. But you'll have to wait for that.

First: Alltop: I TOTALLY do NOT belong on that site. That's not what Alltop is all about, it's not for my blog, not for my 8, 10, 12 or 16 on a really good day, comment level. I get that. I totally do. It's about the TOP blogs, the awesomest, most traffic'd, most visited, most commented, most loved blogs. I am not on that list. Fine. But, having said that, OF COURSE I'd love to be included. Listed with the likes of Playgroups Are No Place For Children, The Bloggess, Her Bad Mother, Plain Jane Mom, Girls Gone Child, Pioneer Woman, and other awesome ladies. Hello?! Who wouldn't want to be included. Of course I feel a little left out. I'm sure a lot of you do. But, whatev. The people included have worked their asses off to get there. They network, comment, email, re-comment, re-email, re-network and do it all over and over again day after day. That's not something I can commit myself to do, even if I wanted to. And I don't. I open up my Reader every morning with much anticipation and as soon as I see the "78 Unread" I get a knot in my stomach and I start to feel the guilt. Holy shit! How am I going to thoughtfully read and comment on all of these posts. All of which I WANT to read, not skim, and come up with something intelligent and meaningful to say. How can I possibly do all that AND write something for my own blog. It. Just. Can't. Happen. I've come to terms with that. I'm never going to be a "Big Blogger" because I just don't write anything interesting enough have the time to dedicate to making it happen. Maybe I'll start a website called "AllMediocre" and I can list to those of you who are like me. Anyone interested? Would I be infringing on some copyright thing? Is that offensive? Maybe I could convince The Bloggess to come up with a badge that reads something like "All Mediocre, Confirmation That I'm Just Okay" or "AllMediocre, All The Stuff That Does Suck" I'm just brainstorming here. Feel free to offer suggestions.

Second: Replying to comments. Another thing that fills me with dread and a sense of extreme Blog failure. Remember above when I told you that I can barely bring myself to look at the number of unread posts in my reader without suffering a severe case of hives? Responding to comments is something that causes severe ANGINA. I love you for reading, I love you for commenting. I REALLY REALLY REALLY DO. But the thought of having 30, 40, 50, 100 comments on ONE post gives me heartburn. How can anyone possibly respond to those comments? How do you keep a loyal readership without responding to comments? I feel like a bad mother if I don't respond every single time a new person leaves me a comment. And I only get 12 (maybe) comments a post. I don't think I could handle the stress of having a larger reader base.

Third: YES, I'm jealous I don't get invited to Johnson's Camp Baby and the Sony thing-y in LA. There, I said it. I'd LOVE to be included in shit like that. Who doesn't like free trips, hanging out with awesome lady bloggers, free drinks, and TONS of coll free stuff? Duh. But, at the risk of sounding like a broken record, I'm pretty sure I'm not the sort of influential blogger they're looking for. And that's fine. It's FINE, I said. God. Stop effing bugging me about it. I said I was FINE!

****
Now on to other things going on in my life:

1) There is a caterpillar living on my basil plant in my kitchen. My basil plant is dying a slow, painful death. Dylan is attached to the caterpillar, so for the time being, that little fucker will NOT be dying a slow painful death. The Caterpiller, that is, not Dylan.

2) My kitchen cabinets now look like this:

Well, two of them anyway. For those of you not familiar with my kitchen, and/or organizational skills, trust me when I tell you that this is a VAST improvement.

4) Is anyone still with me?

5) Dylan just ate his first bowl of cereal "All by himself" If I hear the words "I can do it. All. by. my. self." one more time I'm going to start ripping my hair out. For reals.

6) Do you want to know why I'm totally famous now? The Bloggess featured one of my posts on her Good Mom/Bad Mom Blog. Do you see it there? Go down...down....down...almost to the bottom? Good. Keep Going...down...down. There! Right there! "I Wasn't This Crazy Before I Became A Mother"

7) Totally justified.

Cow Alert!

That's my most famous quote ever. I uttered it when we were looking for houses in the beautiful town of Warwick, NY when I was a kid. Maybe 5 or 6. Warwick is described most often as "quaint" and "picturesque" or "boring" and "lame" if you're in high school. But I'm no longer in high school, so I choose to go with "quaint" and "picturesque." See for yourself:

They're all a little tiny, but hopefully you get the point. It's cute. And quaint. And..picturesque. These were borrowed from the website of Nick Zungoli, Warwickian and awesome photographer. Go see for yourself. At the very least you'll get to look at some purdy pictures.

But I digress...what was I talking about again? Oh yes, my famous quote. As we were driving through Warwick I spotted one of the MANY dairy farms with a landscape studded with cows and yelled, to the amusement of my family and our Realtor, "Cow Alert!" It's stuck with me ever since.

My sister's most famous quote ever just HAPPENED to be uttered on National Television. In her early teen years (OH! How I wish I had a picture!) she and a family friend were contestants on the uber-famous game show, Fun House. You KNOW you remember it. JD Roth hosted and the blond twins flashed their pearly whites for all the teenage boys at home to lust after. Ahh...the memories. Anyhoo, it was quite possibly one of the funniest things I can remember about my childhood. Oh, the fun we made of her. She actually wandered off stage at one point. In her defense she was blindfolded (I think she was smashing pies onto her partner's head?), but it was still freakin' hilarious.

Her funniest/most famous quote came during the question and answer session of the game. I can't remember what the question was, but her answer was "Is it...fudge?" The ... is the dramatic pause she took before guessing at fudge. I realize the re-telling of this story is not quite as funny as the memory of the event is in my head. Oh, how we laughed and laughed and LAUGHED at her expense. To this day it still makes me giggle. I think there's a videotape of it somewhere. I'll have to track it down, copy the VHS to DVD and then transfer the DVD to the computer, upload it to Vimeo and share it with all of you. THEN you could laugh along with me. Not with Quart, though. She's still bitter. They didn't win. When I just called her to "fact check", cause you KNOW I'm all about the accuracy, she said, when asked about what they had won, and I quote(ish) "Oh. I was so pissed. We were told we won a $100.00 Toys R'Us Gift Certificate and I was going to buy us a Nintendo, but when the show aired they said we won a $50.00 Gitano Gift Certificate. But all it really was was Gitano clothes worth $50.00. And I got to keep my British Knight shoes. Or BK's as they came to be known." There was much bitterness in her voice as she recalled that. I kind of felt bad for bringing it up. Kind of. But not really because I'm smiling right now just thinking of it.

But, I digress ONCE AGAIN. Where are we so far? Cow Alert! and Is it...fudge? You're probably all starting to wonder why in the hell I'm sharing with you these frivolous and not so funny if you weren't there kind of stories, aren't you? WELL...don't get your panties in a bunch. I'm going to share with you the amusing things Dylan has uttered recently. I know you're excited. Just try to contain yourself. There's a point to all of this at the end. I promise.

• It's Cookie Time!
• Can I have candy pleasepleasepleasepleasepleasepleaseplease? -NO- Oh...can I look at it?
• (While in the living room with me) I need to poop. Get out of hea. You need to go take a shower. So I can poop in hea. (He still poops in a diaper. Not on the floor.)
• Mmmm...I LOVE cookies! -Do you love Mommy?- Mmmm...yea (shrugs shoulders)
• Good night! No bugs! (his version of "don't let the bed bugs bite")
• (At the Car Wash, on our 2nd go round due to some Car Wash technical difficulties) We're going through AGAIN? Oh, Goodness Sakes!

So, that leaves me with two questions for you.

1. What's YOUR most famous quote ever?
2. If your baby refused to nap, so you fed him (or her) and he (or she) finally fell asleep and THEN you realized they had soiled their diaper, would you wake them up to change it or let them sleep in a poop filled diaper for a few hours?

I shared my answer to #1, you'll have to guess at #2. Although you know me pretty well by now and probably already know the answer. Coming tomorrow...I recount last night's dinner concoction for you. It's kind of a recipe, although there's really very little cooking involved. Just browning and seasoning some meat. Yes! HRH and Madge, this is for you! And, Z, there's even a vegetarian version! Gear up, ladies. Be prepared to wow your family. Or totally gross them out. It's kind of a weird concoction.

And, since I hear it coming from the other room, and because I'd hate to leave him out, Zach says "DA Ma! DaAAMAaa! Squee! MamamamamDaamamamdadadama! Squee!" which translates, loosely, to something really funny about his mobile. Or his toes. Or both. I'm not quite sure.

Limp Hump Day

It's Wednesday! You know what that means? NOTHING! It's just Wednesday!

Here are a few things that are sure to make you happy it's Wednesday...

1) This is what my ankle looks like today. It hurts. Actually, it HURT until I took some DRUGS. Now it's just swollen and ugly but not too painful. I think I might be able to manage Target. Just maybe. DJ says it's not really swollen, that I just need to come to terms with the fact that I have Cankles. To which I replied something that's not even fit for THIS blog. You may use your imagination.



2) I mentioned yesterday that I have recently been the lucky recipient of a few Blog Awards. To which I say THANK YOU and your standards must not be very HIGH.

Tootsie gave me the "E" Award. I'm flattered. Although it reminds me of a certain no-longer-in-existance company's emblem. I'm hopeful she's not trying to tell me something. I can tell you that this blog has NOT made a Gabillion Dollars and will NOT be screwing hundreds of people out of their hard earned retirement money. Although I do have my fingers crossed.

Anyway, I pass this award along to Eat Play Love. She recently wrote a post that I could have written myself, and have thought about writing many times and will hopefully get together sometime soon. It's my biggest pet peeve about other people's parenting. It drives me nuts. It makes me want to SCREAM. She's also very concerned about the current Banana shortage. You see, she is very well rounded. Go check her out if you haven't already.

The ever lovely Holly at June Cleaver Nirvana passed along this gem. So sweet.

I'm going to have to give this to by IBFF Z, who you all know from Autobiography of My Feet. Not only is she a great email buddy, but she single handedly takes care of my need/desire to see the lovely New York City. I anxiously await the end of September when I a) get to go back to NYC for the first time in 3 years and b) get to meet her in person. Can't wait.

Speaking of Z, she passed this award along to me a few weeks ago.

Ain't it purdy? Don't you want to print it out and frame it? Well, I can tell you I did just that and it looks nice. Real nice.

I'm passing this along to four great ladies because any day they post something is a good day in my book.

Holly, Tootsie, JCK & Angie - you ladies are awesome.

3) Deadliest Catch was on last night...and it was AWESOME. Seriously. AWESOME. And the best part?! It was TWO hours long and I haven't even seen the second hour yet! I have ANOTHER episode to watch tonight! Is anybody with me in thinking that Andy Hillstrand is dreamy? Anyone? Anyone?

4) Mrs. Flinger wrote this post the other day and hit on a topic I've been thinking about recently. What's up with the whole pseudonym thing? If you have one, what motivated you to use it instead of your real name?

5) I'm off to clean up now. I went to Tarjay and purchased some new cleaners, on the advice of Lotus. She had me at "our house smells like a fruity, adult beverage." Nothing motivates me to clean like buying new cleaning supplies. Except if company's coming over.

Evolving, With A Little Help From The Learning Channel

I just realized what an evolution my life has seen in the past few years, completely based on what programs I watch on TLC. I turned to that station and, much to my disgust (apparently, because I rolled my eyes and made a little "geack" sound before changing the channel) "A Wedding Story" was on. I have no interest in watching that schmaltzy, ooglie-googlie, gag me with a spoon crap* anymore.

In college it was "Trading Spaces"
Then, it became "A Wedding Story"
Then, I got married and it became "A Baby Story"
After that, it became "Bringing Home Baby"
Now? Now it's a little of "Bringing Home Baby" and a lot of "Take Home Chef" and "What Not To Wear"

I wonder what it will be next?

I'll probably have to start watching "The Secret Life of a Soccer Mom"

And, in other Discovery Networks news, me favoritest show evah**, Deadliest Catch, returns with new episodes on the 15th! Of April! In 12 Days! 2 Days after Quart's Birthday! How awesome of a birthday present is that?!

And, this is just an awesome story. I like the fact that the Discovery Channel & The Associated Press are calling it "poop."

*Have any of you watched any of the new gameshow "Moment of Truth"? It's stupid. Anyway, we were watching it last night and the host was all "This next questions could potentially ruin your marriage. Are you sure you want to go ahead and continue to $100,000, with the possibility of ruining your marriage, or do you want to walk away now with $25,000?" And she was all "I'm going for it" and her husband was all nervous looking. Well, the question was "Have you ever regretted marrying your husband?" and she got all nervous looking and her husband was all nervous looking and swallowing and blinking his eyes all crazy and she's all "Yes. Yes I have" and DJ and I are all "DUH. Hasn't EVERYONE? How would confessing THAT ruin your marriage?" So, is that good that we were on the same page and in agreement (which doesn't normally happen) or bad that we both admitted to having, at one time or another, regretted marrying the each other? We're SO past the Honeymoon phase. Hmmmm....**

**Does using incorrect grammar and spelling make it, as I seem to think, seem more exciting and important? Kind of like ALL CAPS, italics or bold-ing something? If I'd said "MY FAVORITE SHOW EVER" instead of "Me favoritest show evah" would it have been more obvious that I LOVE ME SOME DEADLIEST CATCH?

OH! And no, I was not on drugs while typing yesterday's post. I'd only had 1.5 cups of coffee, some Honeynut Cheerios with skim milk and some Trader Joe's Greek Style Honey Yogurt. Got a problem with that? And since I'm pretty sure you're going to ask after reading this, NO, I am not on drugs or hopped up on caffeine right now. I AM going to go pour myself a glass of wine. Right. Now.

Contests, Contests, Contests & Why I Hate My Feet

My dear, lovely friend Z at Autobiography of my Feet challenged me. Well, not me specifically. She created a contest for her readers about their feet. Why they love them, or in my case, why they hate them. She's having (or, at this point, has had) surgery on her foot today. It's happened before. This is nothing new to her, yet she still likes her feet. Even after all the trouble they've caused her.

Me? I hate feet. If you know me, you know this about me. I don't like my feet, I don't like other people's feet. The only feet I've ever LIKED are my children's. In fact, I LOVE their feet. Especially when they're baby feet. Tiny, sweet, never touched dirt, never been infected with some nasty fungus, baby feet. I can still tolerate Dylan's feet because they're still little. His toes are weird and his toenails grown down, into his toes, instead of out, but all in all, I still like his feet. Yet, I'm sure, a few years from now, the time will come when even his feet will gross me out.

Zach's feet, of course, are still tiny and adorable and perfect. He thinks it's funny when I pretend to bite them and they're very ticklish. He finds his own feet endlessly entertaining, which is another reason I like them because they give me the occasional opportunity to put him down without him even realizing I'm gone. Dylan's feet are useful to have around as well, since they're the tools he uses to entertain himself for HOURS in the backyard riding his bike. He's a stellar bike rider, and this would not be possible without his funny Fred Flintstone feet.

My feet you ask? They're funny shaped and I have arthritis in my left big toe. It hurts and has seriously inhibited my high heel wearing ability. It's stupid.

So, that's my pathetic story about feet. I couldn't NOT join in on Z's contest as that would make me a sorry excuse for an internet friend, but if she'd asked for reasons we like or hate wine or President Bush, I could have written a MUCH more interesting post. Those are things I'm passionate in my loving/hating (in that order).

On another contest note, I WON something! The beautiful Lulu of Lulu's Laundry Blog had a contest about Outback for a $25.00 Outback gift card. And I WON! ME?! How awesome is that? Wallaby Darned's look out, I'm on my way!

Now I'm off to mother. Zach woke up with hives this morning, and although they've since cleared up, his crummy mood has not. It's pathetic. Oh look, he's playing with his feet.

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?

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!

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?

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.

No Poop to Report

Literally. Dylan clearly has to go, but refuses, so we're playing the "I have to go poop!" Cry, whine, jump, wiggle, run to the bathroom, get there, cry, whine "I don't want to poop" and leave the bathroom game. It's going to be a long day.

We did leave the house yesterday, eventually. He did great. We came home mid-outing so he could pee, but aside from that, there was no excitement.

I have a feeling I'm going to spend the ENTIRE day running back and forth to the potty. Wanna come over and entertain me Zach? The poor kid has spent a large amount of the past two days pissed off at being left behind when Dylan and I go running out of the living room like lunatics. A time or two, the forgotten one has even been ripped from my boob, mid slurp. Now THAT did NOT go over well, let me tell you.



Aside from that, I have nothing else interesting to say today. Sorry to disappoint. I did find something that, as soon as I'm done breastfeeding, I'm going to invest in because if milk is not pouring from my boobs, wine should be coming from my bra. I'm sure you'll want one too.

And Now Back To Our Regularly Scheduled Programming

Hi! Hi there! How are you today? Have you recovered from my diatribe excessively wordy, riveting, spell binding post from yesterday? Oh, good. I'm glad you're still with me. Did you vote? Did ya? Good. I don't care who you voted for (well, maybe a little) so long as you voted. Oh, and as long as, no matter what your political/candidatial (yes, I just made that word up) affililation you watched the "Yes We Can" video I linked to yesterday. If you somehow missed it, I've conveniently added it to my side bar. It's over there. ------>

Okay, now on to the things you REALLY come here to read about. My kids and their poop. It won't be ALL about that, but I'll throw some in for good measure. Don't worry, there won't be any photos of it. And, since yesterday's post was so long and paragraph-y I'm going to do you a favor and write today's post all list-y. Lucky you. You can thank me later.

1) Angie at KEEP BELIEVING gave me an award this week! Wow!

This is what she had to say about it:

I have so many blogs that I read just about daily, so I thought I would send this on to one I have more recently discovered. This one is for A Mom Two Boys. I read her daily for several reasons, not the least of which is obvious - she also has two boys. In addition, she writes EVERY DAY and sometimes LOTS of times a day about whatever amuses or bugs her. Even though we differ greatly on our political and social views, she cracks me up with mer daily musings.

Were you all aware that not EVERYONE agrees with my political & social views? I know! I'm as shocked as you are. I like to think of myself as her Daily Dose of Liberalism. I take my duties very seriously.

2) I'm going to pass it along to someone I have also recently discovered and have shared with you before, Autobiography of My Feet. The colossal amounts of drugstore merchandise that she and her husband have stockpiled is (or is it are?) awe inspring, as are her mad photography skilz. Be sure to check them out here.

3) Dylan pooped on the potty yesterday. Mainly because I refused to put him in a diaper and he simply COULD NOT HOLD IT IN ANY LONGER. It took approximately 827 trips and MUCH screaming and crying before it happened, but IT HAPPENED!

4) Luckily, no one showed up for Baby Playgroup. I was not at all prepared, being as I'd spent the entire morning going back and forth to the bathroom with Dylan. It went something like this: "Mommy, I have to poop" while crying, jumping up and down, walking bow-legged, and holding onto his tushy. Me: "Okay, let's go!" Him: Sits on potty, cries and says "I don't want to go poop. I want to go pee." Me: "You can't substitute one for the other. Just poop." Him "NO, I don't want to go poop." Seriously. We did this no less than 15 times before he finally, miraculously let one drop. Nice mental picture, right? So, I made a BIG deal out of it and we flushed it and said "Bye Poop" and all that jazz. It was awesome. And then it happened again a few hours later. Today? He's said he had to go once, but refused to sit down on the potty. So, we're hanging out at home until he goes. I'm not giving in and putting a diaper on him to go to Target.

5) Because no one showed up for Playgroup, I have a bunch of cakemix doughnuts left over. I think I'll save them and contribute them to June Cleaver Nirvana's next Monday Morning Potluck.

6) Since so many of you asked, after reading this post, I do not know what ended up happening. The dispatcher took the information, asked me LOTS of questions I could not answer, and told me that the police in the area would be "on the lookout" for the douchebag. She did not use the term douchebag, although that would have been awesome.

7) If I am ever witness to a crime, I will be of absolutely NO assistance. I didn't see what kind of truck it was (Whate, Crew Cab is apparently not good enough. They want Make & Model, DUH), what the license plate was (I tried to see it, but my eye sight is so bad, even with my glasses on, that I couldn't read it).

8) I just heard this story on the national news. Dude. What the hell is wrong with people? AND, to make matters worse, it's NOT EVEN GOOD BEER! What the Hell?

9) Dylan is still referring to his p*nis as his "peanut." It's funny for now, but I imagine in the near futue we'll have to start correcting him or this could lead to MUCH embarassment in his teen years.

10) Zach is still cute and adorable and cuddly. But, he's starting to really piss me off. Ever since he's graduated to eating "people" food he thinks he's allowed to have whatever he wants. He does not understand that just because he can eat rice cereal, oatmeal, squash, sweet potato and peaches that that does not mean he can eat an everything bagel with cream cheese, red wine, coffee or the occassional cakemix doughnut. We've had many a near tragedy with bagels, wine glasses and cups of coffee almost hitting the floor. I used to be able to snack while he was breastfeeding. I can't any more. He will not eat. He tries to get at whatever I'm eating and gets frustrated. So do I.

11) It's not that common, it doesn't happen to every guy and IT IS A BIG DEAL. I just HAD to get that in here. That Friends episode was on the other day and we decided that it may very well be the funnies 2 minutes of television ever.


That or when Ryan Stiles was a foal being born on Whose Line Is It Anyway.

12) Okay, the phone JUST rang with the news that Baby Girl #3 has JUST ARRIVED! Like 24 minutes ago! So, welcome into the world little Eva.

And Then It All Fell Apart

We'd made great strides here, people. In this house. Sleeping through the night, using the potty. It was great. For about five days.

Then, late yesterday, the shit hit the fan. Literally.

Dylan has been using the potty for "pee pee" on a regular basis. Even without my constant nagging. He would actually come to me and say "I need to go pee pee Mommy." Granted, after he'd gone, he'd stand up, give me a big ole smile and say "I want candy." So, I went to W*lGreens, bought a shitload of sugarfree candy and gave in. Whatever works. I am SO not above bribing. Remember that. I take & give bribes on a fairly regular basis. It might come in handy for you some day. I'm just saying.

So, last night Dylan was stylin' in his tiny, little boy boxer briefs and sweatpants. He'd gone all day without an accident. He'd actually gone the past three days without an accident. Then, after his nap, he seemed like he was a little wet. As if he'd had a tiny accident. Let's just say it was't so tiny and it wasn't pee. Bleh. BLEH. Let's also just say that those adorable little boy boxer briefs are no longer in his adorable little boy underwear repertoire. They currently reside in a plastic bag in the garbage can awaiting pick up on Tuesday by the ever faithful and beloved Gobbage Tuck. May they rest in peace at the most beloved of all places by little boys named Dylan, the dump. Amen.

Now we'll move on to little baby Zach. Who, for the past week or so has slept through the night, save for an occassional call for pacifier re-insertion. And, may I also give a Hoo-Yah I Love You to Fisher Price & the Soothing Seas Aquarium. If you have a baby, are going to have a baby or act like a baby yourself, get one of these IMMEDIATELY. I'm not kidding. I've even conveniently linked to Amazon to make it easy for you. Go. Now. We'll wait for you.

Are you back? Okay, good. I'm glad you listen to me. You're one smart cookie. Now, get thee's ass off the couch and get me a bottle of wine. No? Whatever.

So, back to Zach. Following Dylan's downward spiral last night, I think Zach decided he needed to wrangle himself up some attention. And not the good kind. Not the flirty, giggly, tickle-tickle kind of attention. The damn kid woke up, I kid you not, FIVE times last night. And it was Freakin COLD in my house. Which, come to think of it, may be to blame for his Night o'No Sleep. But whatever. Him waking up five times means I had to wake up five times, get out of my nice cozy bed, walk across the cold floor, go into his room, re-insert pacifier, turn on the Miracle of Modern Science Soothing Seas Aquarium and then head back to bed, across the cold, hard floor. Finally, at 5:45 I brought him into our room, fed him and forced him back to sleep until 7:00.

Oh, and the DOG. I forgot to tell you about Tahoe's frightening downward spiral last night. It wasn't pretty. I was in the kitchen making dinner while all the boys were in the living room. DJ starts calling for me by saying "Meghan. Come here. What's wrong with the dog?"
Me: "I don't know what's wrong with him. What's wrong with him?"
DJ: "Come here. What's wrong with him?"
Me, trying not to burn dinner: "Just a minute. I don't want to burn dinner."
I make my way to the living room and see Tahoe, on the other side of the room, standing up, but all wobbly like. It was like his legs didn't work and he seemed disoriented, which could have been related to the fact that his legs didn't work. I'd be disoriented too. I called him to see if he could walk across the room to me, but he couldn't. It was really weird and a little scary. We got him to lay down for a few minutes, at which point he seemed a little bit better. So, we got him up and got him to come out of the living room. He was still pretty wobbly, and thought he was in trouble because we were paying so much frenzied attention to him. Poor thing. He laid down and drank some water and then, as if nothing had happened, got up and ran outside to poop. And that was it. He was fine. He spent the rest of the evening with his head buried in my lap, which was either due to the fact that he thought he'd been in trouble and was trying to make up for it, or was scared shitless about what had just happened to him. I can't say I blame him.

So, the moral of the story? My Boy-child, Baby-child and Dog-child conspired against me last night to make my life miserable. I think they're out to get me. And that's not really a moral. But whatever. I need to start preparing for my Super Bowl get together. If the boys in my life will allow.

If A House Is Clean and There's No One Around To See It...

Is it really clean?

I cleaned. I freaking cleaned. Actually, in the end I just ended up putting piles of sh*t into my bedroom and shutting the door. But, the REST of my house looks awesome. A.W.E.S.O.M.E.

At least it did, before 6 pre-schoolers and their mothers descended upon my happy home for playgroup. It still looks good, don't get me wrong. Much better than it did, oh, a week ago, three days ago, even yesterday. It will just take a little more dedication to get it back to what it looked like at 9:59 this morning. Which is the moment I was done cleaning and, conveniently, one minute before the group started.

Now, my bedroom? That's another story, and always has been. It's my graveyard, so to speak. It's where I put stuff when I have no other place to put it. It's full of old maternity clothes, Dylan's books, Zach's Co-Sleeper (which he doesn't use, but I refuse to put away because I know as soon as I do, he'll get sick and I'll spend 45 minutes trying to figure out how to put the damn thing back together all the while he'll be sick and crying and DJ will be gagging and crying and I'll be cursing and frustrated and Dylan will wake up and the dog will come in and bug me...and do you see why I'm afraid to put it away?), my clothes, DJ's clothes, etc. It's my nemesis. It mocks me. It hates me. Especially right now. Especially since Dylan went in there after everyone left and dumped his Lincoln Logs out all over the only available floor space. It's my next big project, but I can't bring myself to even THINK about tackling that right now. So, I'm going to continue catching up on the most addictive show ever (save Lost, which, after tonight, will probably take the top spot again), October Road (did you just groan?) and tell you all about the exciting things going on in my life.

1) I made a yummy dinner last night. AND, it was from Cooking Light. There you go. Two of my new "things." Cooking every most nights and TRYING to make it healthy. Have no fear, it will be a Friday Recipe in the near future.
2) Dylan is doing really well with the whole potty thing. He protests having to use it - "No, I don't WANT to use the potty" all whiny and annoying- and then he pees, and he's all proud of himself. It's cute. No accidents for the past two days and we've even made trips out of the house. Poop? That's another story.
3) Is it weird that Armand Assante is on October Road? Isn't that a little, I don't know, beneath him? Strange.
4) I thought of the BEST blog post title EVER, but I can't remember it. Do any of you know what it was? It was clever, witty, funny, just generally awesome, much like me. Gah! It's driving me crazy, much like me.
5) When I cleaned off the kitchen table last night, Dylan was all "Why's it clean, Mommy? Why's it so clean & shiny?" How sad is that? He doesn't even know what having a cleaned off dining room table is all about. On the off nights that we do eat at it, I generally just shove aside all the crap to make enough room for us to sit at it. That's depressing to admit, but I'm going to leave it here as a way of forcing myself to keep it clean. You people will hold me to it, right? Just like "Shine your sink" it will be "Clean & shine your table." I might be on to something.
6) Because apparently some of you (Cha? Gasp! Huh? HOW is this possible?!) don't know who John Krasinski is. I can't understand it, but, in my ongoing effort to make the world a better place, I will introduce you to him. Adorable, funny, awesome him. Although, admittedly, I really like him because of his character on The Office, but I've seen him on Ellen and he's adorable in real life as well.
7) Hawaiian Bubble Bread does not, unfortunately, taste as awesome as it sounds. Actually, now that I say it, it doesn't sound all that good, does it? That should have been my first clue.
8) AMomTwoBoys BEST EVER LASAGNA does, fortunately, taste as good as it sounds. Just wait until tomorrow when I will grace you with the recipe. You're going to want to run right out to the store for the ingredients. It'll be worth it. It's. That. Good. You're welcome. In advance.
9) I'm trying to figure out what else to type here because I want to rival this post on being the longest most non-sensical post ever. But, Dylan's insisting on watching Dora and there's only so much Dora a girl can take. I think I'll try to go tackle my room. Wish me luck. If you don't hear from me tomorrow, send in search teams.

My List(s) & A Few Recaps

A few weeks ago, Y, she of Joy Unexpected, wrote a post where she put certain people/things On Notice. I liked it, and I'm going to copy it. So, without further ado, here is a rundown of people on...

My List:

Dr. Phil
George W. Bush
Britney Spears (if you don't get your shit together and SHOW UP for a custody hearing, so help me god, I will track you down and DRAG your ass there. I'm pretty sure I can take down that pansy ass you call a friend Sam Lufti. Oh, and while I'm on you, I think you look really pretty with dark brown hair.)
Fred Phelps (I know, I just can't let it go)
Zach, for acting like he watned to cuddle and then spitting up DOWN MY SHIRT
John Gibson (In fact, the entire Fox News Team)
Whoever invented Cheese
Whoever invented Dora the Explorer
Whoever invented Caillou
Dylan, for peeing TWO DROPS on the potty, throwing his hands up in the air, proclaiming "I DID IT!" and then getting up and peeing all over the carpet not two minutes later, in effect saying "F-You, Mom."
The Gopher who ate one of my plants last week
*I'm sure there are MANY more, but in an effort to get something productive done today, I'm going to stop there.

The List #2. You know, "The List" that I referred to here. The one from Friends, where you get to pick 5 celebrities that you are allowed to, um, do the deed with, without consequence, if you ever have the opportunity. Ross took Isabella Rosselini off his list because she was too "international" and then she showed up at Central Perk. Remember? That one?

Since I know you've been DYING to find out who my 4 & 5 picks are, here you go:

1) George Clooney
2) Jake Gyllenhaal
3) Clive Owen
4) Johnny Depp
5) John Krasinski

I'm going to have to print it out and get it laminated.

Okay, so that abruptly ends our story. I'm going to go show, get gussied up, drop the kids off somewhere and head to LA.

Just kidding. Kind of.

Now on to the Recaps...

JCK over at Motherscribe took it upon herself to get us caught up on Lost. It's on tomorrow, and it's NEW! That means, for those of you who have forgotten what NEW TV is, it's one that we've NEVER SEEN BEFORE. I know! It's amazing. It's awesome. It's...It's SO EXCITING!

And, since I never link to her and her readership is SO pathetic, I thought I'd let you all know that Pioneer Woman has posted a little, itty bitty re-cap of "Black Heels to Tractor Wheels." She promises to post another thrilling chapter soon.

***

So, there's all that. There's MORE? You ask, eyes wide with anticipation. Yes! There is! I have a bunch of toddlers coming over tomorrow, friends coming over for the Super Bowl on Sunday and a bunch of babies coming over on Tuesday, but I'm going to widdle away my morning here. Sounds like a great plan, right? FlyLady would not be proud.

This was a conversation I had with Dylan at 6:30 yesterday morning.
Not Right Now, I'm Busy from AMomTwoBoys on Vimeo.

And Yes, I know. I nag. Sue me.

I have another video I'd love to share with you, but it contains gratuitous nekkid little b*y scenes (can you imagine if google sent someone here who was searching for THAT? Ew). Okay, so not so much gratuitous, but I'm trying to figure out how to fix it so that you don't have to look at his "peanut" for the 30 seconds it took me to remember he was naked. We're potty training people, and sometimes naked is just easier. Am I right?

I learned something about myself this week. My effort to organize and de-clutter has temporarily caused me to be MORE disorganized. And, I apparently think that baskets are the key to my success. TJ Maxx can thank me later when they do their monthly basket selling assessment. I will have single handedly put them over the top on basket sales. Oh, and socks. There is apparently something that precludes me from throwing out mateless socks. Especially cute little baby sized ones. I had my living room floor COVERED with the damn things this week. It was a disaster. I finally just threw my hands up in the air, said a hail mary (my house was struck by lightning shortly thereafter) and threw them away. In the outside garbage. It was a big step.

And now that I think I've successfully written the longest, most non-sensical post ever, I will be done. I must go shower, clean and grocery shop, which will allow me to successfully host two playgroups and a friendly little get together in the next 5 days. Wish me luck.

In Case You Didn't Love Him Enough Already...

George Clooney.

Because this made me love him even more. And I didn't think that was possible.

Stonehenge? Still laughing. He's totally moved up to the top of "My List." Jake Gyllenhaal will move to #2, Clive Owen will move to #3. You'll have to wait to find out who 4 & 5 are.

Oh, and did you SEE Brad & Angelina at the SAG awards? OMG, if it's not J-Lo all over again...I'm just saying.

The Week In Review & A MeMe or Two...Oh Yeah and A LOT of photos

Okay, really just one MeMe, tagged by two people, June Cleaver Nirvana and Motherscribe. Thanks ladies. No really, thanks.

Here are the rules of the meme: Go back through your archives and post the links to your five favorite blog posts that you’ve written.

But there is a catch:
Link 1 must be about family.
Link 2 must be about friends.
Link 3 must be about yourself, who you are… what you’re all about.
Link 4 must be about something you love.
Link 5 can be anything you choose.

So, here we go.
Link 1, Family- Here's this one. And this goes along with it. Oh, yeah, and this one too.
Link 2, Friends- Here you go. A post about "Friends". Oh, you meant friends, as in people you hang out with, go out to lunch with and invite to parties? I thought you meant the TV show. And this post isnt' really ABOUT "Friends", but it does contain a few well placed quotes/references to/from the show.
Link 3, Me, Me, Me- Things About Me You Didn't Know You Wanted To Know, or something like that.
Link 4, Something I LOVE- I COULD link to something about my children, my husband, or my pets, but I choose this. I love it. I really do. REALLY. You will too, I promise.
Link 5, My Choice- So now I'll talk about my kids. Well one in particular. This is just funny to me. I hope you think so too.

Now, moving on to my week in review, mostly with pictures, because I've been working on this damn post for, like, 5 hours and I've gotten nowhere. Gak!

Because this sums up my feelings perfectly, and saves me the time of typing it all out. Please replace any reference to Texas with California or TX with CA or Texans with Californians. Got it? Good.

My new favorite words:
Spazzazoid
Horridity

Because I had a "FREAK OUT" earlier this week and because I'd like to close the book on the subject with a positive note. JCK of Motherscribe wrote this post about Heath Ledger. It's how he should be remembered.

Now to the pictures:

Do you like See Food?

He east squash now!

Cooking Lasagna, Baking Cake & Drinking Wine

Lasagna simmering...

The finished product...

Proof that Tahoe thinks he's a human baby.

Pioneer Woman's Chocolate Cake.

It really is the best ever.

What my sink looked like after all my cooking...

What it looked like later that same night...

Dylan's akward nap position...

Zach's Beer Belly...

Oh, and the lasagna? It was good, for plain ole' lasagna. BUT, and don't tell Pioneer Woman, it wasn't as good as my favorite lasagna ever. But for that, you'll just have to wait until Friday when it will be the featured recipe. And yes, it does involve cooking skills, to a degree. There's chopping, browning, slicing, shredding, a whole lot of special ingredients, a whole lot of prep time, but, oh, is it worth it in the long run. Trust me. It's special. And, my sister can cook it, which means you can too. I mean you. And you.

Peeps are Kuh-Razee

Or, maybe it's just me for watching it on TV.

I turned to TLC at 12:17pm today expecting to see another riveting, informative episode of What Not to Wear. Sadly, it was a riveting, not really informative episode of Bringing Home Baby. Of course, I sat here and watched it (Zach was eating, so I wasn't being completely lazy). Then, at 12:30 yet another episode of Bringing Home Baby came on. Uh oh, it's MLK day, which means TLC random show marathon. I sat here and watched that one too. I was trying to dis-entangle something that had been horribly disfigured in the dryer, which, with Dylan's "help" took me almost the full half hour and included a few slips of curse words, one swat at his diapered ass, followed by a few tears and some hugs.

Then 1 o'crazy came. A new series of TLC shows called, wait for it...Kids by the DOZEN. Yes, you heard correctly, DOZEN. Each episode, and there are four airing in a row, profile different families with 12 or MORE kids. And NONE of the episodes focus on that crazy nice family with, like 32 children. Who are they? Oh yes, Jim Bob & Michelle Duggar. Nope, not about them. There are, apparently, more people out there who reproduce without stopping. The first family was, shall we say, a little strange. They seemed nice enough, they drive a re-conditioned school bus around Colorado and their oldest daughter, GASP!, doesn't speak to them. Huh. Oh, and the best part was that they were throwing one HUGE birthday party for all the kids. They spent $130.00 on food for the 150 people coming to their party. I kid you not. That's just the ALCOHOL bill for my parties. (Remember, mark your calendars for March 15th.)

The second family, currently being profiled, seem like nice, normal people. Apparently mom & dad like to, you know, Boom Chika Bow Wow and don't, apparently, believe much in birth control. Anyhoo, the basis of their story is that their oldest, at 18, is presently getting ready to leave for college. Mom's bummed, cause, how, HOW will she keep herself busy with only 11 children at home? Oddly enough, the oldest kid seems like the nicest, most thoughtful 18 year old kid I've ever seen. A BOY. EIGHTEEN. With 11 younger siblings, thoughtful and nice. Wow. I might have to track down his parents and ask them how they did it. Not the 12 kids part, cause NO THANK YOU, but the whole raising thoughtful, nice boys part.

Especially today. Cause mine? Not so thoughtful or nice. I've been yelled at, grunted at, cried at, pointed at, frowned at and pretty much boo-hoo'd at. It's been a real treat. In an effort to, I think, keep me from giving them up for adoption, Zach decided that today would be the day that he'd get all cuddly. You know, not "I'm a baby and I'm cuddly by nature" cuddly, but, "I'm 5 months old now, aware of my surroundings, I LURVE my mommy and I'm tired, so I'm going to cuddle my head into her shoulder" cuddly. Oh Good God, I totally melted. It was so sweet. That made me decide to keep Dylan around. Cause, you know, he was like that once too. And Zach enjoys his company. So do I, sometimes, I guess.

***
Dylan just came out from his "nap" which consisted of playing with his trains and the dog. Hmmm...what's that smell? Oh. Nap time consisted of pooping WHILE playing with his trains.

Me: Dylan, did you poop?
Dylan: No, don't touch me. Don't touch that, it's mine.
Me: Don't touch what? What's yours?
Dylan: My poop. It's mine. Don't touch my diaper. (Yelling Now) DON'T TOUCH MY DIAPER. I'm going to dump this out. Proceeds to dump out entire basket of Mega Bloks.

***
Lesson: People who live in glass houses shouldn't throw stones. I'm just as Kuh-razee as the rest of em, I just don't have 12 kids to prove it.

A New Week, A New Reason to Run, Screaming, To the Hills

**Updated at 10:57am to have pictures of vicious killing machines, not links that don't work, oh, and to correct how I spell vicious. I spell good uzualy.**

Hi! I'm back. I know you missed me terribly. TERRIBLY. It was hard for you, I'm sure, and I apologize. I actually LEFT my computer at HOME (on purpose!) when we went to Palm Springs. I know! Crazy. It was probably a good thing because, given my new found kid freedom, I made the poor decision to drink EXCESSIVE amounts of alcohol on Thursday night. Who KNOWS what I would have blogged about had I had the opportunity. Drunk Dialing would have had nothing on me! You all would have been in for a real treat, I'm sure. Unfortunately for you, I was without internet access, and more importantly, a computer, so there was no drunk blogging. Maybe I can convince GP to take the kids again one of these nights and I can stay home and get sloppy and blog. Keep your fingers crossed!

I've actually been back since Friday night, but yesterday was such a busy day that I decided I'd extend my "Blog Vacation" a few extra hours. For recluse home bodies, we've had a busy few weeks. Two baby showers and a birthday party. I had to pry Dylan, practically kicking and totally screaming, away from a party yesterday. There was a HUGE bounce house and all sorts of cool boy toys that he doesn't have, so he was in heaven. It totally inspired me for his upcoming Birthday party. I have big plans. BIG. PLANS. And, you're all invited. So, start planning your trip now. It's March 15th (it's written on my PW Calendar, in ink), and direct flights into Santa Barbara airport are even available from SOME cities. Not many, but you can always connect. We know how easy that is to do with children.

Oh, and when we got back we got GREAT news! GREAT news. Our neighbors were ROBBED! ROBBED! Our NEIGHBORS! The people TWO DOORS DOWN. OMG. I need ADT, okay, maybe not ADT, but some sort of other home security company. As if I didn't have enough to be nervous about already. My quiet, peaceful, SAFE neighborhood is no more. What is this world coming to? If I would allow DJ to have a gun in the house I'd be sleeping with the damn thing under MY pillow. You know, so that when Dylan crawls into bed with me he can accidentally discharge it and shoot me. That's always fun. So, I'll be signing up shortly for a $199.00 installation, $30.00 a month alarm system. Plus we're getting a guard dog. Don't you have a dog? you might ask. Yes, yes I do. And he's huge. He weighs 112 pants and is sure to scare the living day lights out of any MoFo who tries to break into my house. Except for one tiny problem. He's a pansy ass. He'd be more likely to lick the damn burglar to death upon entry than to, oh, I don't know, bark or growl. I'm getting me a trained killing machine. Like a chihuahua or a MinPin. Now those are dogs that will bark and maybe, just maybe, put off a burglar.

Like this one...

Or this one...

Oh, wait. That second one is one I actually want. Crap. Now how can I convince DJ to let me go to Santa Barbara and adopt an adorable 3 month old puppy. Any suggestions? It's for the protection of my family. She looks vicious, right?

Now I must go and scheme my way into getting that puppy. Oh lord, I want that sweet, adorable little girl vicious killing machine. So, start planning your trip here for my Dylan's kick ass party. Plus, you'll be able to meet my new guard dog, Willow. The name just invokes a sense of fear, doesn't it?

Oh, and in case you're totally out of the loop, Pioneer Woman posted another thrilling edition of "Black Heels to Tractor Wheels" on Friday. And, in case you care, I think I'm going to get ambitious and make something for dinner from Pioneer Woman Cooks. Like the lasagna. Is it dinner time yet?