Lemonhead

Tomorrow Zeke and I have to take all three of the dogs to the vet. Two people, three canines...going to the vet. Doesn't sound like a recipe for goodness. Otto may already have an idea based on the fact that he's half human and probably peeked at the calendar hanging on my fridge. Timmy is clueless and won't realize what's going on until Dr. Jane sticks a needle the size of his leg into his back. And Simon? Let's just say that Sy won't go down without a fight (and a tiny little muzzle - get out the hair scrunchie).

On a brighter note: this evening I was finally able to pick my first lemon off of my Mother's Day Lemon Tree. I've been waiting for about 150 days (literally) to pick this lemon and I've never tasted something so sour but so sweet. That tree was given to me out of love, I've nurtured it and babied it since I saw it, and to see it so happy and so healthy makes me smile. It's tiny little things like a homegrown lemon that count people...really, they do.

Thieves like us.

Today's weather put me in such a good mood. It was sunny and 70 - the perfect day to get outside and rake some leaves, plant some ornamental cabbages, and tidy up the front of the house. My puppies and my boys were out there with me and the sun was shining down on us as if there wasn't a problem in the world. Sounds idyllic, huh? Well, don't be fooled. My bubble was burst a few nights ago and since then, I've been walking around with a big chip on my shoulder. Here's the deal: 8 years ago, Pauly and I moved to this neighborhood because we loved the fact that it was quiet and peaceful and that we had a really pretty horse farm backing up to our property. We fell in love with the land and the house and the views and decided we'd take a chance and make it ours. Well, on Friday night both of our vehicles were robbed. You see, it's sooooo quiet and peaceful around here, that we tend to leave our cars out of the garage, unlocked and sometimes even with the windows rolled down! It was always just "that type of neighborhood". Not anymore. Now it's one of "those types of neighborhoods". Ya' know...the type that has thieves walking around in them. How pathetic. How disgusting. And really, how life-changing. Now, it's really no big deal when I think about what they took: my iPod, my GPS, some gift cards, Pauly's laptop, etc. All of the items stolen can and will be replaced. What can't be replaced is that feeling of "wow, what a great place this is to live in". I no longer feel that way. Now I'm nervous. Now I'm checking and double-checking the doors at night. Now I'm parking in the garage. Now I'm leaving bright lights on outside and disturbing the nocturnal wildlife that used to hang around our property in the faint light of the moon. It's sad. And it's unnatural. We should all be able to co-exist and live peacefully - with each other and with the animals around us. But somewhere along the way it has gotten all muddled up. And in that muddled mess, fear has been bred. I just don't know how to explain to the next generation why we need to acknowledge that fear and slap locks on everything. Because really, I don't believe we should have to.

*sigh*

I'm a little irritated today. Irritated because some things just don't work out exactly the way I want them to all of the time. Today is one of those days. A day that gets under my skin, gnaws at my gut, and reminds me that I can't and won't ever be fully in control of everything. That...that little fact...really seems to put a damper on things. Today the fact that I have Lupus is bringing me down. And I've refused for many years to allow the "L" word to sink it's teeth into my psyche or my soul. But today is different because today I find it hard to hold a pen or even type this post. Today the Lupus is attacking the bones in my hands and well, it just really sucks. I've dropped so many things in the past 24 hours that I've stopped counting. I've winced in pain as I tried to grab the bag of groceries from the guy at Giant. And I've gulped down a ton of Motrin trying to forget that my hands are fighting a battle that is ongoing and downright irritating. But more than anything, I feel a little bit defeated when I get like this. Is this really how it's going to be? Am I going to allow something like Lupus control my destiny and my life? And more importantly, do I have a choice? I'm saying YES. Yes I have a choice and yes I'm going to be fine. Because that's the path I choose. The hand thing? This will pass. Just like the knee sitch passed a few weeks ago. And the neck sitch, and the hip sitch, and the eye sitch, etc., etc., etc. They all came and went and I was still left here..."just plain Nancy". The Lupus won't be a part of who I am...it'll just be a gnat flying around my head as I trek through life. But some days...gosh, some days that gnat just keeps buzzing a little too close to my ear.

Weenie meanies.

Wow. It's been a while since I've posted. Life moves fast when you're in the left lane, I suppose. In my mind, I try to stay in neutral..ya' know..look around, smell the roses, that sort of thing..but in reality I think I'm always zipping about trying to accomplish this, that, and the other thing. If I'm not actually doing something, I'm THINKING about what I'm GOING to be doing in the near future. But that's a story for a later date.

So, what's new news here, you ask? Halloween '09 happened. I found the actual Halloween night to be a MAJOR, COMPLETE, TOTAL bomb. Lucky for Zeke, he had about 3 or 4 other events before the 31st to celebrate and wear his costume. I, on the other hand, just didn't get my fill of the 'Weenie. To start off, it rained. Ok, I've trick-or-treated in the rain before and still scored tons of loot. Rain can be dealt with. But here's what made the night really lame: Zeke and I were the only people out on our street knocking on doors. One guy didn't even know why we were at his doorstep!!!! It was a very awkward moment - my kid and me standing there, hands out, smiling big, and this guy in his lounge wear looking at us with a puzzled stare. WHAT DID HE THINK "TRICK OR TREAT" MEANT????? OH MY GOD. By the time we got home, we were wet, sweaty (because it was a humid, muggy, rainy night and God knows we have to walk like 26 miles to get to 7 houses around here....SO not worth it) and in horrible moods. The one thing I knew would cheer both Zeke and me up was the dumping of the candy onto the kitchen table and the celebration of the score. So, we took off our wet gear, put away the flashlights, and ran for the kitchen with the goodie bag. Zeke dumped the HUMONGOUS bag onto the table as we all held our breath and.................................6 candy bars dropped out. 6. SIX. Six. SIIIIIXXXXX. And about 4 of them were tiny little bite sized bars. OMG OMG OMG OMG OMG. What was the point of this 'Weenie Mission? Why did we even trek all around our neighborhood, knocking on doors, making small talk, showing off the costume, etc., etc.??? I mean, I had an entire bowl of enormous Snickers bars sitting at the front door just waiting for some Michael Jackson Ghosts or Transformers to show up and hold out their goody bags! Couldn't I have simply filled Zeke's bag up with our own stash? The answer is simple: no. Halloween is about getting out there and visiting your neighbors. Not texting them, not emailing them, not phoning them, and not simply waving to them as you do 40 m.p.h. past their driveway in a rush to get to your next appointment. It's a time to pretend - a time for the kids to pretend they're someone or something else and for us parents to pretend we actually have the time to stand on each others' doorsteps and chat for a bit. And that's why next year, despite the 6 tiny little candy bars in Zeke's huge bag, we'll still be out there all alone in our neighborhood, knocking on doors and saying "Happy Halloween".

October List

Some things Zeke and I like at the moment:

1. fresh apples dipped in crunchy peanut butter
2. seeing Petey the neighbor horse at the corner everyday. He loves the fall weather - NO FLIES to bother him!
3. this new pink colored Dove soap that smells soooo yummy
4. staying up late when the Phillies are on...even though we're bandwagon fans.
5. our parakeet's obsession with our chihuahuas
6. my lemon tree. even though he's been moved indoors, he's thriving.
7. all of the awesome candy choices in the Halloweenie aisles!


Some things that really stink:

1. the H1N1 flu mania
2. the fact that it seems to rain every single weekend
3. the fact that the wind blows down our super-awesome spooky Halloween decorations outside
4. dry skin
5. everyone seems to be getting sick

And finally, one thing that strikes me as really odd:

1. Zeke continues to stand on his head. A lot. And everywhere. At home, at school, at the park, in the playground, even at the doctor's office. It's just strange. What's even stranger is the fact that I'm the one who ends up with the headache.

I think you've got something in your teeth. Oh, nevermind, it's just a swing.

Things must have been getting too quiet around here. Craziness came a knockin' on Thursday as I drove to pick up Zeke at school. My celly rang and it was his teacher informing me that there was an accident on the playground and Zeke's mouth intercepted a swing. He was crying and only wanted to talk to me about it. I was only 5 minutes away at that point, but factoring in the "mommy lead foot" effect, I made it to school before the song playing on my iPod was over. I ran in and grabbed my little guy while simultaneously doing a once over...ok, ok, all fingers, toes, limbs, eyes and head in place...but then I noticed all of the blood on his sweatshirt. In my world it was bad. I told the teachers I could handle it from there and whisked him away in my car. Now, as my good old friend Weezie will tell you, I am NOT GOOD in emergencies. I freeze up. I choke. I panic. As I drove with my injured kiddo in the back, I wondered silently...where am I going??? Hospital? To my mom's? To Pauly's office? To the park so I can pretend that none of this happened??? As it turned out, I drove home, pulled Zeke out of the car and surveyed the damages a bit more closely. No cuts on the face, no bruising. I lifted his top lip and OH MY GOD...THE GAPING BLOODY HOLE was staring at me. His inner, upper lip was completely torn up and his top front tooth was bloody. My heart stopped and my mind went blank. I handed Zeke his school bag and told him to go inside for a minute. He was still crying a little bit and simply asked me "but what about my bent tooth?" Ummmm, yeah, what about it, I wondered. I stared into my cell phone for a minute and realized I had to GET MY SHIZZLE TOGETHER. Like now. Then it happened. I snapped into full-scale trauma mode and went into overdrive. I ran in and started treating the cut lip and "bent tooth" with one hand and dialed the doctor and dentist with the other. The doctor told me the cut would heal on it's own - no matter how grotesque looking it was. We had to ride it out. The tooth was a different animal tho. The dentist told me to get to the office - STAT. Two x-rays later and it was revealed that Zeke's front tooth had been hit so hard that the roots were fractured up above the gum line. There is no treatment for this type of trauma other than tooth extraction. I left there with a copy of the x-rays, a script for an antibiotic, and a referral for the oral surgeon. The next day, 8 am sharp, we were in the oral surgeon's office awaiting the extraction. By 10:30, my little baby boy was out of surgery and minus a front tooth while I was PLUS a migraine the size of the Ukraine. It was time to go home, pull the blinds, and snuggle up for the day as we both recovered.

This saga has been nuts. It has given me a serious look at how a sick kid can devastate your soul and make you rethink all that is important in your world. Zeke's mouth is healing and his swollen lip is receding. Soon all he'll be left with is a gap in the front of his mouth that I'll somehow find super-cute. I'm just thankful that a toothless smile is the biggest problem this has led us to...for that, I'm eternally thankful. Well, that, and the fact that school pictures were taken on Monday - 3 days before that smile got ransacked...

Small time and liking it.

Today has me thinking. Like "deep thinking" thinking. It all started when Zeke attended a gymnastics class with his friend Kyle. Kyle's gym had "Bring a Friend Day" and Zeke was invited to check it out with Kyle. Zeke was nervous at first and even shed a few tears when he realized I wouldn't be in the gym with him, but after he saw how much fun it was, he warmed right up to it. After the class was over, his teacher raved on and on to me about Zeke's athletic skills and how he could quite possibly hang with the older kids in the 6 to 10 year-olds. Now, I know she meant this as a complement, but it just spoke volumes to me about life in general. Everyone is in a rush. A rush to get somewhere, a rush to get ahead, a rush to MAKE IT. And here it is, starting in a preschooler's gymnastics class! Zeke wasn't bored in the 3 & 4 year-old class. He was smiling and running and generally having a great time. He never once said to me that he'd like to move on to something more difficult or challenging or older. In fact, he seemed to actually enjoy just PLAYING...with no huge competition. Just innocent play. It made me think about all the pressure that will be resting on my boy's shoulders someday. And it made me realize that that pressure isn't going to start now in a gymnastics class. For now, he's going to run around with 3 and 4 year-olds. And he's not going to have to excel physically or athletically to impress me. And most of all, he's going to laugh like he means it.

Retro wheels.

It seems that I've caused quite a stir for replacing my old car with the SAME EXACT make, model, and color car. I'm a little surprised and flattered by this. I didn't know people cared so much about what I drove. Here's the deal: I searched around for about 3 months for the perfect car for my needs. I drove a few, scouted out a few, and googled a few. Nothing seemed to fit. Some were too big, some were too small, and some were just plain too fancy. Pauly doesn't do fancy. Nancy does fancy. But Pauly reigns me in. Soooo sad. But, he's right...it's crazy to spend $60K on a CAR. So, after some thought, I realized...I like what I have but I just needed it updated. So that's what we did. The dealer added in a few extra bells & whistles and poof! I have my "old" car sitting in my driveway...but it's new. And I'm ok with that.

Brusied and contused.

'Tis the season for fall festivals. This past weekend we went to one in the Chester County area and Zeke had a ball. I enjoyed it aside from the fact that I twisted my ankle about (literally) 6 times. Have any of you guys seen those green tennis-ball looking thingy-things on the ground around here? They're everywhere. Pick 'em up and smell them and they're a lemon/Mr. Clean hybrid. I think it's actually possible to score a cheap high on the scent. I digress. So these tennis-ball thingy-things are ankle crackers. Especially with improper footwear on. Which is typically the case in my world. But, bruised ankles aside, Zeke had fun and our calendar is jam-packed with fall festivals galore. I'll be sure to revise my footwear sitch.

Bliss.

Pauly and I are back from Watch Hill, RI. This marks the first time that we left Zeke and took a trip alone since he was born. Crazy stuff. Although this was a business trip for Pauly, he wanted me to come along since there were a few dinners and luncheons where spouses were welcome. It was nice to get away and feel like an adult again, but my oh my did I miss my Zekey-pants. Watch Hill was beautiful. It's a beach town with tons of character and beautiful homes to match. While the guys were in meetings, the girls took tours, went sightseeing, and visited nearby Mystic, CT. Give me a few weeks of mommyville again and I'll be ready to go back.

Egg on his face (windshield).

It's a gorgeous fall-y September morning. I woke up early, showered, dressed and woke up the boys to get a start to the day. I wanted to go out to Wegman's to stock the pantry for Mom Mom Cookie's arrival this weekend so that she and Zeke could have some fun eating snacks and catching up. As we drove out of our neighborhood, what did I see??? THE PRIVATE PROPERTY PIRATE. Maybe you remember, maybe you don't..but about this time last year a big, fat, mulleted, camouflaged, UFC-watching, cheap beer drinking, poop-toothed a-hole decided it was going to be ok to hunt for deer in the woods in my 'hood. I had words with him regarding this sitch and told him it was against the law to hunt private property and more importantly, so close to, ummmm, PEOPLE....and the mud muncher told me that he "was the law" so he wasn't worried about it. That was the point in the conversation that I explained to him my feelings on his hunting habit (i.e. that it was a shame he was scraping the barrel so lowly that he had to shoot Bambi for his din-din instead of hitting up the Genuardi's produce aisle. In fact I think I told him that the Florida grapefruits were 3 for a $1 that week and he should look into loading up on his fruit and veggie intake instead of his current protein overload. I noted his heavily expanded waistline and double chin as proof...). Buuuuut, much to my dismay, he's back and creeping again in the woods. Looks like I need to buy myself a dozen eggs and teach him a lesson or two...or twelve.

Post Game Wrap Up

Week One of preschool is over. It went smashingly well to my supergigantichugelyenormous surprise. I fully expected nuclear meltdown in the carline when we pulled up to do the day one drop off. You see, in Zeke's school, we do drop off and pick up the good 'ol American way - drive thru style. It's a very sweeeeeeeeeet method - I get to stay in the car while the teacher comes out and does the dirty work of prying Zeke out of his cartoon-and-cereal-bubble into the real world of A-B-C's and 1-2-3's. I went through a few periods last year when Zeke threw the backpack aside, attached himself to my car's headrest, and held on for dear life rather than be yanked into the "real world". Oh, and I should say thanks to Teacher Mary for doing a bang-up job of prying his strong-as-stainless-steel fingertips out of my car leather each and every time during those rough periods and finally getting him into the classroom kicking and screaming. Seems that once she got him in there, he really did enjoy himself after all. But for this week, at least, the removal tactics have not yet had to be deployed. All systems were a go and Zeke's new teacher - Teacher Joyce - seems to have gotten him on her side early in the game. Let's just see if she has the all the right moves to keep him there.

Ring the bell.

This sums up Zeke's attitude about ending his summer vacation and beginning preschool today.

45 pounds of liver.

Zeke starts his second year of preschool tomorrow. Well, he doesn't technically "start"...he goes in for an hour while I go to the school meetinghouse and talk parent business. But still. He's out of my sight. Out of my control. Out of my life. For an hour. Might not sound long to you, but to me? It's VERY VERY long. You see, I grew a second liver when I had a baby. Or a third kidney. However you want to put it. All I know is an extra appendage/organ grew. And grew and grew and grew. And now every day it seems to get bigger and heavier and tougher to manage. I have to decide if it's ok for it to go certain places, for certain people to influence it, for it to be exposed to certain television/radio shows. I have to make sure this appendage doesn't get hurt or too tired or too hungry or too thirsty. This appendage is, well...special to me. For some reason, for the past four years and some odd months, my body hasn't been able to function without it. Strange what those little appendages do to you, huh?

'Doing it up.

It's a shame for Mary. Mary is the sweet, very patient woman that cuts Zeke's hair. Today, Mary earned every dollar I paid her. You see, I haven't taken Zeke for a haircut all summer. He's been rocking the buzz cut for a while and I can just clip that easily enough at home. So, it was bye-bye Mary for a while there. And I could tell that a problem was brewing early this morning when Zeke bristled at the fact that he was to going to get reacquainted with Mary later on in the afternoon. My plan of action was to tire him out at the park, feed him, then let Mary attack with the clippers. Zeke had other plans. When we arrived at the salon the meltdown commenced. There were tears, screams, fists flying, feet stomping, frowns and shouts everywhere. I had to pick him up and place him on the seat. Not too cool. He finally settled in for the cut and I thought had taken on a better attitude about the whole sitch since Mary hooked him up with two lollipops. Not true, unfortunately. After Mary brushed him off and told him what a good boy he ended up being, she instructed him to trot over to the mirror to check out his new 'do. Zeke did. When he saw his haircut, he pulled his lollipop out of his mouth long enough to announce to the entire salon that he looked like a "goofball". What a jerk.

Rant.

There are going to be people who read this post and roll their eyes, sigh, and shake their heads. And really, I don't think that's ok. Because what I'm going to write about is life. And the reverence for it. Now, brace yourself, because the "V word" is about to be mentioned yet again. Vick, that is. As in, Michael Vick, the shithead football player that the Crapadelphia Eagles just signed not so long ago. The Vick topic was once again mentioned on Facebook and it started my animal rights wheels turning. The author of the topic stated his opinion that in no way was an animal's life as important as a human being's. The hairs on the back of my neck stood WAY up as I read that. I steadied my emotions, cooled the steam in my head, and tried to reason with myself. How could it be possible that I equate an animal life to a human life? How do they compare? And here's what I came up with: I can't reason it. I can't judge it. If I didn't create either completely amazing entity, then how can I place value on them? Sure, to us as humans, our "baby humans" are worth their weight in gold. But what about a baby cow, horse, or duck? How do we know that the proud parents of those sweeties don't feel the same? Because they lack the verbal skills to communicate it? Because they can't write it down in a letter? What a sad and ignorant people are we if we lack the judgment and heart to realize that the animal kingdom is not our creation. It's simply a gift on loan for us to admire and yes, sometimes love. Only the creator of all of us, including the animals, is in a position to deem one more worthy of life than the other. Until then, we should live together, respecting each other's place on this earth.

And you know you don't want to be on that second list.

Some funny things at the moment:

1. my parakeets have been loose and on the run (around the upstairs of my house) for 48 hours. They go back to their cage at night but as soon as the sun rises, they're in flight mode. And yes, I've been finding myself vacuuming and wiping up bird doodie. I feel it's a small price to pay for the jungle-like atmosphere they're providing. I love those little birdies.

2. I found one of the little parakeets perched on Timmy's (my sweet chihuahua) tail earlier today while Timmy was asleep in his doggie bed.

3. Zeke and the Under Armour sitch. He thinks he's the bee's knees in his Under Armour. It's pretty hilarious/ridiculous. Must post picture soon.

4. I had a random snapshot of Zeke sitting on my dresser the other day. I had put it aside to slip into a scrapbook. I found it today, on the floor of the hallway, with the name "Zeke" scrawled across the back in a 4-year-old's handwriting. I asked Zeke if he wrote his name on the back and why, and he said it was so that I'd always remember who it was in the picture. Like I'd ever forget.

5. An older woman in front of me at Rite Aid was picking up about 9 prescriptions today along with asking the pharmacist to "sort out her pill bottle". Ummmmm, the pill bottle contained about 4,936 pills in every color of the rainbow. What the????? She then proceeded to tell the pharmacist that her head hasn't been the same since she "ran her car into that tree..." OMG. Buckle up for safety, people.


And of course, a few things that are currently on my nerves:

1. my rental car. I want my own car back.

2. my hair. I need Dawn to work her magic.

3. the fact that it's about that time when all of my dentist/doctor appointments come due. DOOOOOOOOOOOOD, that's total B.S.

4. I need a pedicure but I'm afraid of dirty nail salons. I don't like someone else peeling skin off of me and the smell of those places sends me into the Migraine Hall of Fame.

5. School starts soon and that means that Zeke will be gone 4 days a week. Ok, it's only 2.5 hours a day, but still....4 days a week is A LOT!!!! 3 days a week was fine last year. Why did he have to get a year older????? waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah.

Good TImes.

August is flying on by at warp speed. I know this because my birthday is right around the corner. I say this with gleeeeeeeeeeeeee in my heart knowing that Pauly and Zeke will make my day special in their own funny ways. Pauly, if you're reading this, I'll forward you some links for gift ideas...we all know how brutal your jewelry taste can be. Think red necklace Pauly, red necklace. Anyway, Zeke and I have been enjoying this final spurt of summer to it's fullest and here's what we've been doing (in as few words as possible):

we've seen a travelling petting zoo, cat sat for a few weeks and fell in love with her (the cat), went to see Blue's Clues Live! and met the "real" Steve (I like Joe better), played on the beach and witnessed a beach wedding, explored the Delaware Museum of Natural History with friends, we camped with Mom Mom Mare and Poppy, we went to the library and finally confessed to losing Percy and the Pirates (only cost $8.95, oh well), ate a lot of fresh corn on the cob from Wynoor Farms, hid Otto in 4,951 of Zeke's stuffed animal friends, went to Dutch Wonderland and it was clean, went to Sesame Place and it was dirty, saw the Chik-Fil-A cow and realized most of our table was eating McDonald's food, we had an afternoon pizza date - just the 2 of us, we Chuck E. Cheesed with Brandon, took pony rides, nursed Pauly through an infected spider bite that required antibiotics, played on the Sporty Squiggles Sports Team, celebrated many birthdays (happy b-day Rocco, Tristan, Lukey, and Meadow!), took swim lessons with Corey, fed the geese down the street, pampered the horsies on the corner with apple and peppermint snacks, ate unbelievable pizza at Tacconelli's with the Duffs (had such a good time - love them!), saw a Blue Heron at the pond down the street, bat watched, helped Tommy and Sue move into their beautiful new home (or rather helped them break in the new pool!), and finally, we had a slumber party at the Hampton Inn in Bethlehem with Mom Mom Mare and Poppy.

It's been a full month or two. And I've loved spending it with my favorite kid in the world...

Loser.

I'm at a loss right now. An absolute loss. I just heard on the t.v. that Michael Vick has been signed to the Philadelphia Eagles. People, don't even mess with me on this one. Don't argue the point, don't give me opposing points of view...just go with me. I am ADAMANT that this man be banned from being allowed to PLAY any sport let alone be paid tons of money to do so. I can't even begin to tell anyone how deeply I'm hurt with this decision. Doesn't anyone have any respect for the animals on this earth anymore? Surely there must be someone, just one person out there, who understands. Michael Vick doesn't deserve another dime. Nothing. But...he will be getting millions. To play football. Again. After he tortured and killed dogs. Nice. Really gives me lots of faith in the human race...

Crumpled

So it's been not-so-fab around here. And here's why: on Saturday we were in a car accident. Thankfully, all three of us were fine, but it was waaaaaay scary. Oh, and my car? Not good. It has $6K worth of damage and won't be out of the shop for weeks. I'm sad and depressed that I'm now driving around in a disgusting rental car. The thing that's making me more sad is the fact that Zeke is a paranoid back-seat driver now. He seems to be afraid that we're going to get in another accident. It's not good. I guess it'll pass but I just wish he didn't have to experience the terror that comes along with a pretty significant car accident at such a young age.

Besides the accident, another thing weighing on me is the imposing fear that summer is coming to an end. I feel it. I sense it. I see it on t.v. with all of the back-to-school ads. Most of all, I know it's coming because my birthday will be here soon (wooooohoooo!). As soon as my birthday ends, summer ends. Sad. I'm hoping that my attitude will change, as it does most years, and I'll get excited for fall...but so far I'm not feeling it. One bright note: I checked out Missy's blog and it pumped me up for some fall fashion. Thanks Missy - and I LOVE the Equestrian Frye Boots!!!

sigh, headshake, eyes-r-rolling...

Way too much sports-related stuff going on in my life at the moment. Phillies, rumblings of the Eagles, and just to ramp it up a bit....4 nights a week of pee wee football. Can't...go....into...full...story....yet. I'm just now understanding that summer may be coming to an abrupt end before I've really gotten my toes wet yet.

The Quest(ion)

We thought we had a good idea to take off on Saturday and head for the beach. "Just do a quickie day trip" Pauly and I said to each other. After all, that's one of the perks of living so close to the sea, huh? Sadly, everyone else had the same idea. A car ride that should have taken an hour and 45 minutes was painfully stretched into almost 5 hours because of traffic. To be fair, I must disclose that 2 potty breaks were inserted into that 5 hours, but c'mon...5 HOURS????? Brutal. Honestly, I think I would have rather a re-do of the Sesame Place Massacre that was put upon me last weekend (long story, but let me just say that S.P. is horrific and I'll never go back: dirty, crowded, smelly...need I say more?). I CAN say that once we planted ourselves on the beach, it was nice. But even then, I felt like I was smothered by tons of other sea-worshippers. I'm not sure anymore of what exactly is relaxing. It's a constant quest...something of a mystery now that Pauly is uber-connected to work both physically (via Crackberry & computer) and mentally. Running miles and miles away from home to supposedly "get away from it all" didn't quite work out this weekend. And now that I think about it, why did we run? We should have stopped to smell the flowers right here in our own gorgeous backyard. Note to self: slow down and slow Pauly down. Every weekend doesn't need to be action packed to the hilt. Sometimes just sitting on the deck, hearing the horses and sipping some tea is the best way to escape it all. How 'bout that?

Pass the kleenex.

Time to jot this one down in the baby book: Zeke doesn't call me "mommy" anymore. It's strictly "mom". I find it uncomfortable and way too grown up sounding. I've gotta go...I can't type through the tears.

I want my baby back.

And I finally got it. My computer, that is. It's been sick, lazy, and completely hung up for the past few weeks so I bit the bullet and parted ways with it a few days ago to let a technogeek tune it up. But, alas, it's back...and I'm feeling much more connected to the world now. I felt horrible ignoring this site, leaving it withering on the vine. And I know all four of the people who read this spectacular slice of literary genius have missed it terribly. Not to worry though...I'm up and running and as you'll see, life has kept on keeping on while I was away. Check out our pix to the right - we've had a fun few weeks.

As I part for the day, here are a few shouts:

1. Good luck Tommy & Susan. 2 weeks will fly by and before you know it you'll be pool partying!

2. Thanks Mom and Dad for letting us bunk out with you last week. Zeke loved the camping experience and is now addicted to roasting marshmallows.

3. GWBD Pauly. Very important to remember. And, as always, you rock. We love you.

4. Christopher: where are you? Call your sister.

5. Oh, and we are kitty cat-sitting for a few weeks for Daisy the cat. I'm not sure we'll want to give her back after 2 weeks...she's a sweetie. So, shouts to you Daisy. Welcome to our cribby.

My life in pictures.

Where have I been, you ask? Around. It's strange because I look at my calendar sitting here on my desk and I don't really have much written on it. A week-long camp for Zeke here, another one there. But nothing too major. For some reason tho, I'm finding it difficult to fit my blog into my days. It's important to me tho. Important to keep my peeps in the loop of my life and important so that I can look back and simply remember all the times I've spent with my boys. So, here it is. My past week in pictures over there to the right. Enjoy. I know I have. And that's what summer is all about.

Baby bird.

There are times that having a child tests my patience to the extreme. And I do mean the extreme. Like, I imagine picking him up, throwing him over my deck and across my back lawn...but then I gather my wits a moment or two later, remembering that, after all, that's why law enforcement was invented. Conversely, there are times like today that I realize there is no bond and no love stronger than that of a child and his parent. You see, I've been putting off going to get some blood drawn for WEEEEKS now...it's way, way overdue. Maybe even 2 months. I've just ignored it and put tons of other things before it so that I didn't have to deal. I detest dealing with medical issues. But today was the day that I knew I had to go, get the blood work done, and simply move on. So, after Zeke and I met Mom Mom Mare for lunch and did some Target damage, I told him the plan for me to get my blood work completed. I thought he was fine with it, but about 2 minutes later I heard him burst into tears. I asked him why he was crying and he told me he didn't want me to get hurt. It was then that I realized how much this little 45 pounder loved me. I'm his world, his lifeline. Now, I know at some point he'll fly from the nest. I'm just happy that for now, this little nest is so important to him.

Celebrate that, MJ.

Warning to all of you Michael Jackson lovers: this isn't MJ friendly territory. Stop reading if you will be offended.

Ok, here we go. Today I went to clean up the doggies' newspapers. You see, my pups are all paper trained to go to the potty on newspapers if they're not outside. It's nice and easy, especially since they're all tiny little guys. Well, today when I went in to clean up the used papers, I felt a wave of justice run through me. On one of the used newspapers on the floor, there was a picture of MJ standing on top of a car with his arms up above his head in jubilation. He was celebrating the fact that he was "cleared" of child molestation charges a few years back. Now, we all know in the backs of our minds that MJ was more than a bit "strange" when it came to little kids. In my opinion, it's unforgivable. My sweet revenge this morning??? Apparently one of my chi-chi's agrees with me because when he had to do poopie, he aimed it directly onto MJ's head. Thanks puppy dog!

Homefront.

It's been a while, huh? I received a text today from Piggy (Chris, my brother) informing me that my blog was stale and boring and needed updating ASAP. Well, at least someone is reading. I'll take it as a complement.

We are officially done all of our travels for a while now. We did Disney, then England, and just arrived home from Arizona this past weekend. I'm tired. Tired of packing, unpacking, flying, etc., etc. It was fun and we made some awesome memories, but it'll be nice to be on the home front for an "extended stay" (like that, Jaime??). So, check out the Arizona slide show and stay tuned for future updates...there's always something going on around here. And hey Piggy...thanks for reading.

P.S. out to my mom and dad: thanks so much for keeping my pups alive while I was gone. I think they would have packed their bones and left me if you guys hadn't stepped in and cared for them these past few times I've been away. The King is thankful and so are we - you guys rock!

Get down with the science.

Zeke has been at Science Camp all this week. I've been living vicariously through him. I know, I know, I'm setting him up for a few decades of "the couch" (a.k.a. psychological counseling) but, it's just so darn cool! They've been doing some sweeeeeeeeeeeeet stuff in that camp!!! Today, I was spying from the window in the classroom and they were dissecting the stomach contents of an owl!!! In case you didn't know (and I didn't until Zeke told me), an owl eats birds, so they were finding all types of bird bones and bird skulls in there! As they found the bones, they matched them up to a diagram to determine which bird bone they had uncovered! And these kids are 4 and 5 years old! Very cool stuff in a very easygoing and fun environment. So, hats off to Teacher Doreen. She has managed to keep 5 boys, aged 4 and 5 years, interested and behaved for four straight days so far. Ummm, I wonder if she does weekends...

This just in...

The big news of the weekend: Zeke can ride a two-wheeler. Yep. It happened. My baby boy wanted his training wheels off and was ready for the big leagues. So, we took off the extra appendages on Friday, he jumped on the tiny Trek, and away he went. It wasn't 100% smooth, there was slight road rash involved, but I'm sad to say that the training wheels are now stuck in a box on the shelf in the garage. *sigh* Just one more stage telling me that he's growing up and moving on...

That's goodness.

Random thoughts about some things I like at the moment:

1. the very awesome tea I brought home from England. The teabags make great hot and iced tea. Yum yum. I'm trying very hard to save some for Pop Pop Ebs - he's a tea drinker too. I think he'll appreciate the deliciousness.

2. the fact that the nights are warmer and brighter. I just love going hiking at night in the Preserve or in the State Park and not needing a sweatshirt or parka. Love this time of year!

3. the chihuahua I saw at the pet shop today. He was stunning and sweet and so cuddly. Two reasons he's still at the pet store: A. Pauly and B. I'd rather adopt than buy.

4. the fact that my Dad has me completely obsessed with the stock market and the stock I just bought. Who knew it could be so fun?

5. Petey the horse on our corner is out in the pasture ALL the time now. And he kisses me on the lips now. I think we're officially past dating and now "going steady." Sorry Pauly.

Horses, my rosegarden, good purses, my "circle"...all the good things in life.

Weekend is over in a flash. I feel jipped because Saturday didn't turn out as sunny as promised by el lamo weatherpeople. We solved that issue by going to the movies to see "Up." Very cute movie and it had a sweet storyline. I actually had tears in my eyes a few times. It had me thinking about life and all the little things I do each day that make me genuinely happy. Think about it...when you're gone from this life, what will people say you enjoyed? Will they even know? If not, figure it out and start doing it. You're not getting any younger, my friends. Sorry to sh** on your Sunday, but it's true. I'm mentally pledging to myself to learn more, do more, and be more passionate about my interests. When I go from this world, people are gonna' talk. And it's not just gonna' be about how many purses they have to clean out of my spare bedroom...

Sandbox shennanigans.

Zeke had soccer today. His soccer class is held on the field at one of our favorite parks, so we decided to pack a lunch and stay afterwards for a little extra fun. We met a few friends and hung out for a bit. As my friends and I were getting lunch ready, there was a pretty large group of boys digging a very, very big hole in the sandbox. We thought absolutely nothing of the very, very big hole. As long as no one was arguing, hitting, spitting, or kicking and as long as no one was going head-first into the hole...no problemo. That was our big mistake. If something is interesting to a group of 4 year old boys for an over-extended period of time, it should raise a bright red flag. Today, for some reason, it didn't. And that's where the shoe trouble enters. As it turns out, the 4 year old boys were burying something. Something that wasn't theirs. Something that wasn't supposed to be buried...very deep...in a big hole...in the huge sandbox. They buried Gracie's shoe. Her tiny pink Croc. And when we finally discovered that Gracie's Croc was missing, there was absolutely NO sign of a hole ever existing in the sandbox. That is how amazingly well these 4 year old savages cleaned up their mess (for the first time in their small lives). So, the next 30 minutes were spent by 3 adult women and a few tiny little girls digging and shoveling on hands and knees in the very big, very deep, and very gross sandbox until finally the tiny pink Croc was found. When asked why the Croc was buried, Zeke only replied "because it was treasure."

Argh.

No habla manual labor.

It's unbelievably nice out today. 80's and sunny and breezy. What did we have to do in all of this great weather? Paint our back deck. Somehow, I got roped into helping with this "outdoor" job. I don't see the fairness. My mental division of labor goes something like this: anything inside the house that doesn't involve complete disgustingness, I'll do. Anything outside of the sticks and bricks, Pauly does. So why was I on the end of a paintbrush all afternoon? ON MY HANDS AND KNEES PAINTING THE SKINNY LITTLE SLATS IN BETWEEN THE DECK . And if any of you reading this are married, you will understand this...arguing with Pauly ALL afternoon about how all of this manual labor should be done. Ew. Not a good day.

Mortality strike.

Today we buried my grandmom. Well, my brothers and I called her "Nanny". Of course it was sad and emotional and all that goes with a funeral, but I think what hit me most was the fact that I could actually see my immediate family aging before my very eyes. I'm getting older, my brothers are getting older, and my parents are getting older. It freaks me out. I officially have no grandparents now. Strange. It's a sense of loss and empty that's in my heart today but also a sense of appreciation for the fact that I realize that importance of my "circle". My family is important to me. And on days like today, days that we lose and bury someone, it's good to stand next to them and know that I can lean on them.

England scoop.

We're back. From England, that is. It was a great place to visit and get to know, but of course I have tons of opinions I need to share with you all. So here we go:

1. Not all British people have jacked-up teeth. It was the first thing I investigated, beeeeelieve me. In fact, it seems they have pretty good dental plans over there and that most of them are indeed flossing.

2. I'm not sure why, but England has a very poor potty situation going on. In many ways. Here's the sitch: if/when you DO have to go, finding a potty is tough. They hide their potties very well. It's almost as if they're embarrassed at the thought of peeing/pooping. I wanted to wear a button that said "Even the Queen poops." But, for me, nope, not enough potties for my general comfort. I mean, I drink tons of water. Tons of water = many trips to the loo. Supply me with facilities puuuleeeze. Then, once you do finally find the coveted "toilets" as they call them, it's an adventure. Now, first let me start with a complement. I love their potty doors. They go all the way to the floor. That's where the U.S. has a major breakdown in potty policy. I don't like the fact that in a public restroom, the door only comes down to about 18" above the floor. Why can't it be a full-sized door??? The U.K. got this part of the "toileting" right. But it stops there. Once you do your business, the U.K. wants to really, really jip you on the t.p. (toilet paper, that is). The dispenser gives it to you in SINGLE SHEETS!! What's that all about??? It takes a good 3 to 4 minutes just to get a sufficient amount of t.p. in hand! Then when you try to flush your "stuff".....OMG. Their plumbing is ridiculous. There's no water pressure, no heavy flush, nothing. A small trickle of water comes down...if you're lucky. So what's that mean to the potty-goer? It means you get the former potty-goer's leftovers, that's what!!!! Not nice. So here's my thing: I need more potties, more paper, and more flush please. Just more of everything....except for my neighbor's leftovers. Less of that and more of the aforementioned and the potty sitch will be golden.

3. You know I've got to talk about the driving dealio. Why drive on the left side? As far as my research tells me, the U.K. is by far in the minority by choosing to drive on the left. And they're so uppity about it. Anytime someone would ask me how I was managing with my driving, if I'd dare say I was having difficulty getting used to driving on the wrong side of the road, those crazy Brits would give me a lathering. Whatevs, I left my mark on a few curbs and our rental car (I simply couldn't judge the left side and curb-surfed way too much for Pauly's liking).

4. That English tea. Yum. Double yum. Now anyone who hangs with me regularly knows that I love tea. Need tea to survive. Hot tea, cold tea. Just tea. I don't do coffee so tea is my caffeine hit to get me through the day. But, wow. The tea I had while in England???? It was like no other tea I've had. I brought 2 boxes home but I already fear the end of those teabags!!! So, yes, I love their tea habits and the respect they give tea. They do tea properly - with little cakes and lots of sugar. Mmmmmmmm. Now how do I get a steady IV drip of their tea going through my veins???

5. Their weather. Let's just say I didn't worry about getting a sunburn. And I'm always the one voted "Most Likely to Look Like the Lobster" whenever the sun is shining anywhere. There was not a good hair day in sight for the entire 7 days I was there. I have no idea how anyone ever looks good in England.

6. The food. Oh, the food. Was it really food? Or was it just white bread and mayonnaise? And little disgusting sausages and brown lumpy gravy? Holy crap...I couldn't eat a thing besides Corn Flakes with whole milk that I diluted with water. It was a really bad food sitch for poor lil' me. England doesn't like semi-vegetarians. At all. In fact, they throw bangers and mash at them and laugh while doing so...


I guess I could tell you more, but I don't want you to think that I disliked my trip. It was fun and new and exciting even though some things were scary and uncomfortable. It would have been more fun if Pauly wasn't working so much, but hey, that's why we were there in the first place. Zeke and I were our own little tourguides and discovered tons of things together. Over "dinner", we'd tell Pauly all about our day and what we had found. One thing I noticed that was enlightening: a 4-year-old is a wonderful travel companion. And even better, it was awesome to introduce him to a totally different country. He definitely noticed that things were different in the U.K., but assimiliated to the changes pretty quickly. He knew to ask for 20 pence for the gumball machines, remembered that the Eye of London was a major ferris-wheel type of landmark in London, and even made a little British friend while playing in a playground one afternoon. Even though she told him he talked funny, they seemed to get along fine and played for a while before saying goodbye. As they were leaving, little Layla told him to "have fun in America." Zeke told her bye and that "he liked her country." That made the trip completely worthwhile to me.

Am I reading her the wrong way???

Is it illegal or, well, just impolite to borrow a lot of books from the library? I mean, I really want to know what the protocol is on this particular matter. Because I seem to be having an issue with my local librarian. Here's the deal: each time we go to the library (which is about once every 10 days or so), we rent at least 10 or 15 books and magazines. Today, I ran over to the library by myself while my mom watched Zeke so that I could return some things and borrow a stack of magazines for a long plane trip we're about to take. Well, as I set the large stack on the counter and said "hi!", Ms. Mean Librarian Lady sighed and scanned my library card - WHICH DIDN'T CONTAIN ANY OVERDUE FEES!!!! She acted as if I were taking her own private stash of reading material from her own home! Is it not my tax dollars that pay for my local library services??? Am I not entitled to borrow as many books as I'd like??? Is there a law on the "books" about some type of limit that I'm not aware of??? Fill me in if you know something I don't. Because as for me, I'm gettin' the vibe that Ms. Mean Librarian Lady is p.o.'d that I have the April edition of Martha Stewart Living on loan. Whatevs.

It's my day....yeah.

Today is Mother's Day 2009. It's been a great day...thanks to Pauly and Zeke. I thought this weekend was going to be one of those weekends where I hit the ground running and never stopped until Sunday night, but thankfully it wasn't. Plans changed and I was able to take advantage of the unbelievable weather today and do something with my boys that I really, really enjoyed. We FINALLY attended the Willowdale Steeplechase. But before that, my day started out on a sour note - literally. Ya' see, recently I've been obsessed with fruit trees. I saw a few in my travels here and there, and I've just really had the urge to try to grow my own fruit. Specifically lemons. I love lemons and lemonade and would love to have fresh lemons growing on my own property. Well, this morning, Pauly surprised me with a gorgeous 5 foot tall lemon tree. Beautiful. I'm excited to nurture the tree until I can pick my first lemon and squeeze it into a tall glass of ice water!

After my lemon tree surprise, we got dressed and met Pauly's family at the King Street Grille in Malvern for breakfast. If you've never been to King Street...my oh my, you must go. And get the Blueberry Muffin French Toast. You'll never be the same. It's heaven on earth. If you go, tell Randy the chef that Pauly sent you - he'll get a chuckle out of that.

After our breakfast (which actually turned into lunch!), we headed straight for the Steeplechase. This was the highlight of my day along with my lemon tree. I guess I'm a simple girl if a few lemons and some racehorses make me see stars, huh??? But really, I couldn't have asked for a better day. The fact that we had time to see the horses racing around the Willowdale grounds made my weekend amazing. Hearing the pounding of the hooves, seeing the jockeys working the horses...it was all so great. The only thing that made it better was the fact that I had my boys with me and the weather was gorgeous.

Thanks guys for a great Mother's Day. And thanks Zeke for the super secret Mother's Day party at school on Friday. Although you're getting to be such a big boy, I think I'll always remember you like this:

You'll always be my little baby boy... happy, funny, smart, and the life of the party. Happy Mother's Day to me. Lucky, lucky me.

A special P.S. out to my mom: I'm not sure how you've done it all these years, but you've managed to keep me in line with all my dramas, plans, successes and failures. Thanks for always listening to the 9:00 a.m. rants and for the Thursday adventures. You're an awesome mama! Happy Mother's Day, Ter Ter!

Potty like a rockstar.

Plumbing. Even the word sounds gross. PLUMB-ing. Plumb. Like, who wants to plumb something? Ew. So, anyway, our upstairs plumbing in our master bath has "crapped the bed" as my brother Chris likes to put it so very eloquently. No more Band-Aids, no more quick fixes...it's time to do a complete overhaul and rip the entire bathroom out and start from scratch.

Ok, folks....cue the music: WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOHOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!

I have lived with this ridiculous powder blue nightmare for seven years. Seven. Count 'em. Seven. Oh my God. I tried paint. I thought of papering. I thought I'd "play up" the baby blue and accent it with artwork at one point. Holy s...., it wasn't happening. I gave up and just simply showered and well, ya' know, in the blue-ness. Eventually, I stopped looking at it and just did my "business". But today? Today I have OPTIONS!!!!!! It's a new day, people. And I'm thinking of tile, shower stalls, sinks, and yep, even toilets!!!! Who knew a toilet would be so darn awesome (other than when you realllllly have to go). So I leave you on this Mother's Day Eve with stars in my eyes and potties in my dreams. Bye, bye ol' blue. I'm heading for better things now.

Gray matter gone.

I lost a few more brain cells today. Why? Because I spent some time at Chuck E. Cheese. Now, don't get me wrong, I have nothing against "The Ratt" as we call it in our circle. But, I feel as though every time I sit in those booths and listen to the deafening buzzing all around me that my head is going to just pop right off like a Pez dispenser. Today I literally could see tiny portions of my brain left on the table as I packed up my gear to go home. That's how horribly sapped I feel whenever I go to Chuck E. Cheese. Sorry Chuckie. No hard feelings. Keep sending me coupons, ok?

Ew.

I've been very short tempered lately. Yesterday was the worst. Anyone who was with me for any amount of time yesterday KNOWS the deal (sorry girls). I was a stressed out maniac. And Chris (my brother) heard a full-on rant and rave on the phone. Sorry about that Chris. I think I just think about things too darn much. Note to self: think less...think less...think lessssssss. Sounds moronic, I know, but seriously, I tie myself up in knots reviewing detail after detail in my brain. Classic case of Virgo-itis. So, I'm going to let stuff go and continue to just be. But before I..am...here's what has me agitated today (if I may):

1. the rain (again)
2. the stupid swine flu and the fact that I have to be concerned about it as I get ready to travel abroad
3. commercial holidays and the ridiculous pressure they put on me to become a juggling act
4. the rain
5. my office area - it's such a mess that it's making my blood pressure rise and my heart palpitate. It will be clean by the end of today if I'm up at 11:59 pm completing the task.


That's it from 3's Companyville. Sorry to be such a downer, but, it just goes with the weather.

We were on vacation? What vacation?

Yaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaawn. Back...from...."vacation". And, yes, I did say vacation very hesitantly. Why? Because we were in Disney. And Disney DOES NOT equal vacation when you're over eighteen. When you have exceeded your teenage years the equation becomes very, very different. It goes something like this:

Disney = plane trip with toddler + 10 lbs. of electronic games to keep toddler busy during plane trip + long lines in airport with cranky toddler who just wants to see Mickey + rushing to catch shuttle buses to hotel + long lines to check into hotel room + soothing a toddler who still just wants to see Mickey + rushing to catch another shuttle to get to park in same clothes you've been wearing since 4 a.m. because there's no time to change + long lines to have your 20 lb. backpack (that you've expertly jammed 35 lbs. of necessities into JUST RIGHT) be ripped apart by security as you enter the park while your toddler jumps up and down because he sees pictures of Mickey who he just wants to see in person + walking for 8 more hours through the park to stand in lines to get on rides that bring you just to the point of vomitus maximus + dining on chicken fingers and french fries that your toddler thinks is gourmet and you think is going to send you straight to your primary care doc for some heavy doses of Lipitor + carrying a camera and video camera around every single moment of every single day because all of this mayhem and madness ultimately and eventually alllll equals one very fine result.....the absolute time of our lives. Thanks Disney. You made Zeke's 4th birthday pretty awesome.

Can't....think....straight.

I'm finding that the more I have to do, the less I'm getting done. Not good. Focus, Nancy, focus. I think I used to be really good at juggling a thousand things at once. Not so much anymore for some reason. I think it's the fact that every 5 to 7 minutes someone calls out "Mommy!" and I'm supposed to react. It tends to break one's train of thought. Where was I..

Gotta run, gotta work.

This weekend has been nice. The three of us spent time in the yard on Saturday since it was such gorgeous weather and we planted some pretty flowers. Pauly decided to work on "the hole" (ugh...it's a project he's been OBSESSED with for the past 18 months, no lie. It was a sinkhole that started smallish, then grew to be about 3 feet deep and about 5 feet wide. Apparently years ago when our house was built, the ground wasn't packed firmly enough. But I digress...) So, as Pauly continued to fill "the hole", Zeke and I enjoyed the sun, played with the pups, and put in some nice new Marigolds.

On Sunday we took a trip to Longwood Gardens to take part in the kite flying festival. Zeke made a kite in the Longwood tent, then flew it on their beautiful grounds. It was fun to see him running through the field with about 5,000 other kids trying to get their kites up into the air too.

So now I return home and realize that, yep, a mountain of laundry still awaits me. It haunts me. It's always there no matter how far I run. So, I loaded up both the washer and dryer this evening and I'm making a go at it. I sorta' HAVE to since we're leaving for our first of 3 summer trips at the end of this week. I need clean clothes to pack! I have a feeling this week is going to be all work, no play...but come this weekend...WOOOOOOOOOOOOOHOOOOOOOOO! We're off to see Mickey! Maybe I'll blog live and in person while I'm in Mickey's hood, but I kind of doubt it. I foresee tons of running around, sunscreen re-application, and exhaustion...in a major way. But hey, your kid only turns 4 once, right???

Here's to a productive week...

Eleven, Baby!!!!

Today I've been married for 11 years. To be honest, way back when, I never even thought I could BE married. Couldn't fathom the idea. Life was fun being on my own, having a career, a condo, and a cool car. Then I saw Pauly in a library. I asked my friend who he was, told my friend to introduce me, and the rest is history. Funny how 11 years later everything is so different. I now have a much different, ummm, "career" (a.k.a.: trying to grow a boy into a man), a house that always cries out for attention, and an SUV instead of a convertible. Add to the mix various and sundry pets and well, the brew I've got on my "life stove" is bubbling over at times. But ya' know what? Amidst all the skinned knees, bumped heads, barking, chirping, stain removal, 30-minute-meals, preschool woes, butt-wiping (yeah, Zeke still hasn't gotten it down..), grocery shopping, storybook reading, handwriting lessons, manner reminders, and most of all, kisses/hugs/"I Love You's"....I've learned that life is so much more than a universe centered around me. I'm a small part of a big thing here. And what I've got to do is tread gently, love unconditionally, stay humble, and trust God. Mostly, I need to give my son the tools to do the same. And today, more than most days, I'm happy I'm doing all of that with Pauly by my side. Happy anniversary Pauly. I love you.

Egg Dyeing at it's Finest

Today was one of those days that you're just plain ol' happy you have certain people in your life. I love these types of days. And here's why: I took Zeke up to Doylestown with me to my old college roommate's house so we could dye Easter eggs together. Now, not in a million years, would Eileen and I have EVER thought 20 years ago that we'd be dying Easter eggs together with our sons on a Friday evening...I think we probably would have thought our Friday evenings would have consisted of a bit more adult entertainment. But, alas, Big Ei and I have definitely lost some of the "wow factor" from our weekends now that the big night out is to dye Easter eggs with the kiddos. No biggie, we did really have fun catching up, letting the kids play, and simply just chatting about life in general. One thing I've learned about Big Ei...no matter how much time passes since the last time I've seen her, I feel like I can mesh right on in with our friendship wherever we left off. That, I believe, is the true test of a lifetime friendship. So, sorry to tell ya' Big Ei....you're stuck with me forever girlie! I had too much fun seeing you and your crew today and Zeke is already telling me he'll "try harder to be good" the next time (HAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!!). So, thanks for the fun, for the company, and for the fab egg dyeing. Even tho Sophie's eggs kinda' blew ours outta' the water, I think the boys' all looked pretty darned good. I think we should make this a new tradition - eggs at Ei's every year!!!

So, as we end this day, we have gorgeous gem colored hard boiled eggs ready to fill Zeke's Easter basket that'll be waiting for the Easter Bunny tommorrow night! We're getting pretty excited! Here's hoping everyone gets a visit from the Big Bunny!!! Good Luck!

No hunting allowed.

Easter egg hunts are terrifying. And I'm not alone in my horror. As we were standing along the perimeter of what looked like a sea full of gems (it was actually a huge lawn full of plastic Easter eggs), my heart was racing. The countdown was about to begin and Zeke was ready to run and gather all the eggs he could in about 10 seconds flat. Now, why, tell me, would I be nervous at an Easter egg hunt??? I kept asking myself that and silently telling myself how ridiculous I was for feeling anxious about what was about to commence. UNTIL....one of the moms to my left spoke up. It was like we were at at EEHA Meeting - Easter Egg Hunters Anonymous if you aren't catching my drift. She did it. She spoke of her husband's childhood trauma and lifted the cloud of darkness that I think all of us were secretly carrying for so long. Apparently, when her hubby was a child at an Easter egg hunt he was terrorized. He waited through the countdown, ran out onto that huge egg-covered field, swiftly gathered the coveted eggs in his basket as fast as his tiny hands could grab them, when suddenly the unthinkable happened....his basket tipped and all of his eggs flew out. Someone swooped in, took all of his eggs and he was left with nothing. This woman said that to this very day, her husband HATES Easter egg hunts and funny enough, he was quite obviously absent from the day's events. She said he has nightmares about losing his eggs and repeatedly trying to get them all back into his basket. CAN YOU IMAGINE???? This is what I say: Easter egg hunts are too stressful. It's too much build up for too short of an event. It's far worse than, say, a wedding. At least a wedding lasts a few hours! But to get all psyched up for something that lasts 10 seconds???? I don't see the point. That's just not funny, bunny.

And how was your day?

Yesterday was a crazy day. I saw rainbows and 6 foot tall hot dogs in drive thrus. I attempted to do laundry, failed, and decided that baking (burning) a batch of Pauly's favorite brownies would be a better option. I attended a school book fair, shopped in a dollar store for all things Sponge Bob, bought live clams against my better judgment, and decided I was going to really try to let my nails grow longer. I finalized our Disney World trip and researched a trip to Arizona, I paid bills online and Facebooked a bit. I downloaded pictures of Zeke and his friends and spent the next 10 minutes crying as I studied his baby pictures on my computer - boy, how time flies when you have a child. I thought about getting a spray tan but none of my friends would go with me (and for some reason, I just won't go alone) and I made plans with Eileen to dye Easter eggs next Friday. I counted down the minutes until Pauly came home from his business trip and I played Zingo about 3 or 4 times with Zeke. I learned that you can play Zingo with a 3 year old and look fully engaged while simultaneously daydream about what kind of car you want to get next.

Who said life as a stay at home mom was boring?

F-f-f-fooolin.

I like April Fool's Day. For one, it's my mom's birthday. What a cool birthday, don't you think? Not to mention, she's a bit on the funny/foolish side, so it fits her personality (no offense, momsy - you know you're goofy...). And April Fool's Day is a great day to pull out my hidden acting abilities on Pauly. Last year, I played the old "I lost The King (Otto the chihuahua) and I've been searching the neighborhood for hours now...". I had Pauly going for a good five minutes until The King barked in the background and Pauly hung up on me. It was great. This year I wasn't prepared. For mom's birthday or for a great prank. I think having lost a lung in The Great Weekend Puking Incident put a damper on the awesomeness of the day. So, instead, Zeke and I spent the day with friends, then headed down to my mom's for a quiet dinner.

Happy Birthday Mom!!! You little April Fool!

Down with the sickness.

Sick. That's how it's been around here lately. Just sick. Like disgusting, rumbling, tumbling belly sick. And it's been going on for too long. First it was Zeke, then me. I'm reallllllly hoping it's goes right past Pauly and out of this house for good. Today's the first day I'm feeling like the real-deal Nancy again...with some minor adjustments. For one: I'm not real jazzed up about food yet. I can only get down about 1/4 of my usual amounts of food (no comments from all you smart-a's out there.....), and I still feel some slight stomach terror once I do finally eat. But honestly, anything is better than the weekend I just had. Puking until dry heaving? It puts a big damper on a weekend with a quickness. But...that's in the past and today made me feel like all this HORRIBLE winter weather/sickness/boredom/madness has finally lifted. What a great springy day it was and what a nice way Zeke and I spent it - with a bunch of friends at the park in the sunshine! Here's to many more days like today!!!

Green around the gills.

It's day 6 of the stomach bug. Zeke is improving - I'd say he's about 80% - but I swear the smell of vomit is permanently stuck in my nose. In turn, it's making me feel nauseated. I've been playing head games with myself all week - do I feel sick? Is my stomach feeling strange or is it just my imagination? I just got off the treadmill and I feel like a truck ran me over. I certainly don't feel the "exercise high" all those whack job gym people speak of. Just the opposite - I feel like I should have skipped that workout altogether. So, here's my plan: I'm going down to the basement to clean up some toys, scrub a spot on the carpet where I swear I can STILL smell puke, vacuum everything down there, then it's ME time. I'm headed to bed to settle in and watch American Idol. As for Pauly and Zeke: they can join me or they can play Wii in the basement. I just don't feel like Wii'ing tonight...

Vomitus Maximus

"I want mac and cheese. I want Chinese food. I want noodles with butter sauce. I'm really, really thirsty...may I have some more water? No, make that orange Juicy Juice. Or maybe Lemonade. Now I want a bagel and cream cheese. "

That's all I've been hearing for the past 8 hours. And every time I give Zeke a tiny scoop of whatever he's craving...he pukes it up. You see, he has this remarkable way of making it seem like he's on a fantastic rebound from the horrible stomach flu he's been dealing with since Friday. One minute he's vomiting up a kidney, the next, he's ready for a pizza with extra cheese. And each time, I admit it, I'm hoodwinked. I think we've hit the end and the flu is gone. But then he eats a bit...and kaaaabaaaam - up it comes. And somehow the force with which it comes up makes it dreadfully hard for me to escape it's route. Yep, I've been splattered with puke many times in the past 72 hours. Ew. The smell is what gets me, I think. I can deal with a lot - dog puke/poop/hairballs. Kid doodie/vomit/dirt...but the smell - OMG, it gets me. It's rotten. Like, seriously rotten. But how can it be?? That which is being puked only went down about 10 minutes prior. It's an enigma. Maybe when this stomach flu has left our home I'll take an advanced physiology course just to find out how Gatorade goes down into the belly, gets regurgitated 5 to 7 minutes later, only to smell like 3 week old milk that's been basking in the Arizona sun...

Rolling down the highway, veggies under my seat.

I try to stay ahead of stuff around here, I really do. And because of that, some things get pushed to the bottom of the priority list. Take for instance, my car. With the weather being so cold and with us all spending so much more time indoors lately, my car has had little to no attention paid to it. First of all, if I'm going to be in my house more, I want it clean. And secondly, if it's supercold outside, I'm sure as heck not going to be out there freezing my fingers off trying to clean the car. Sorry, it just doesn't rank up there. But yesterday, the car lucked out. The house was clean, laundry was, well, whatever...and it was nice out!!! I was suddenly motivated to finally clean out the dumpster I'd been driving. Here's what I found as I pried further into the pits of hell or, rather, Zeke's area:

Now, let's dissect this picture carefully. I know, it's a bit tough to see what's going on here, but let me describe the madness. What you're looking at is the underneath part of Zeke's seat. And yes, that red card with the heart...that's a Valentine that never got opened because it was swallowed up by the abyss. Sorry Anna - it was a really cute Valentine too. Can you see the Nerds, the loose change, the lonely potato chip (sour cream & onion because that's all Zeke will eat), and most appealing...the pretzel salt mixed with hair???? Even better were the 4 petrified baby carrots that I found under MY seat that happened their way there. I guess I'm no innocent in this story either. One good thing: I found a Nintendo DS game that Zeke has been searching for since January, one of my awesome MAC makeup brushes, a nice Burt's Bees lip balm, and about $23 in loose change. Here's the bummer part of it all: it's only about 26 hours post cleanup and I'd say if you were really, really hungry and had nothing at all to eat, you'd already be able to find a small meal lying in the dark corners of my car. That's just how Zeke and I roll these days.

Strange but true. But why?

Ok, so I know it's pretty difficult to see in this picture...but look very, very carefully. Do you see the teeny tiny little chihuahua above? Yep, I know he's stunning. Aside from that, check out his paws. I know, I know...there's nothing really too abnormal or super-duper about them. They're just typical chi-chi paws. Tiny and cute. But here's the deal: they're now referred to as taco bells in my house. And, no, not Taco Bells but taco bells. You see, they're not related to that disgusting taco chain...they're just taco bells. Chihuahua feet are taco bells for some reason. At least according to Zeke. And if I pry into this taco bell situation, Zeke gets very agitated. Agitated as if I should know all about taco bells and it's a waste of his time to have to go over and over it with me. Bizarre.

Add to the Bizarro List:

-Zeke was waiting at the deli counter with me today and proceeded to sit on a bag of rolls that was on a shelf in front of the counter. I immediately told him to get up before he squished the rolls. He told me he couldn't because he was hatching the rolls. ??????????

-Another anatomical anomaly: when you point to the bridge of Zeke's nose and ask him what it is he'll tell you it's his roots. Please don't ask me how this all happened. I'm trying my hardest here, folks. I really, really am.

Seems like yesterday.

I've been nostalgic the past few days. I think it's because of all this Facebook junk. Facebook is crazy. It has connected me with friends I knew back when I was literally in first grade. And just a day ago, one of the nicest girls I hung around with all through grade school had her first baby. I found out via Facebook and I was so happy to have gotten the information. Congratulations Kelly and Baby Tessa!!! But since then, I've been thinking about babies. Babies, babies, babies. And more babies. Now, I don't really want another baby, but I do sort of miss all the baby stuff. I miss packing a diaper bag. I used to LOVE packing my diaper bag for some reason. I'd pack and re-pack it every single night. I guess my love of bags extended to the diaper bag family. But yes, my diaper bag was prepared for any mishap Zeke could have brought my way. I think he and I could have survived a combo diaper blowout/nuclear attack with all of the goodies I carried with me each day. Preparedness was the name of my game.

But now, alas, my bag now is simple a purse, albeit a large one, and all I need as far as essentials is some Purell, tissues, and Nintendo DS. A 3-1/2 year old doesn't require much as far as "essentials" go. My friends will tell you though, I still over pack. If you search my purse you'll also find a first aid kit, children's motrin, baby wipes, a toy motorcycle, and the emergency candy stash. What can I say, I still like to do the "diaper bag" thing...

So, in the spirit of walking down memory lane, I searched my old pix and found this one of Pregnant Nancy. Now remember, I HATED being pregnant. I was a horrible pregnant girl and was miserable the whole time. I think this picture captured the one and only night I actually had a fun time being pregnant. So, thanks Penn Ladies! You guys rock. Do you guys remember this party??? Memories, huh???

Get the bird and run.

This week was Pet Week at Zeke's school. Oh my. Now we're talking. By now, Zeke's teacher knows I'm a "pet person" and has bonded with me over one or two furry friend stories. You see, she's a...gulp...HORSE OWNER!!! jfasdopbniopaertnjaop!!!!!! God knows I'm ready for a few tea parties at her house. So anyway, Teacher Michele had the SPCA visit Zeke's class this week with a few adoptable pets for the children to meet. In addition to the SPCA visit, Teacher Michele wanted the next best thing to visit the school - a representative from the Zeke Zoo. No problem I said. Would she like a furry or feathered friend I inquired. She chose a feathered friend, so yesterday I obliged. Wow was that a massacre. It started out easy enough. I transferred the new bird, Stuart, into a small cage and tucked him into my SUV. He wasn't quite sure where we were going, which I later found out was quite to his benefit. Upon arriving at the school, I signed into the visitor's log and headed down to Zeke's classroom. As I opened the preschool door, it got prehistoric. Tots came running from all corners of the room. The snack time that they were enjoying was forgotten, yet still clinging to their dirty, sticky fingers as they poked and prodded at Stuart's little cage. (The worst part??? My Dooney & Bourke purse was getting ALLLL kinds of nastiness on it from the greasy popcorn they were all eating! Not too cool, lil' guys.) I tried to hold the cage above their reach, but the weight of 10 preschoolers was pulling me down into their makeshift mosh pit. I felt myself starting to fall into them, when finally the teachers wrestled the mob to the ground. I gathered myself, straightened my hair and Stuart's feathers, checked the lipstick, and proceeded to circle time where Stewie and I were the center of attention. After a brief speech about the care of tiny Stu, the class was supposed to line up one-by-one to come up and take a "close look" at Stuart. Then the Big Fakeout happened. Yeah, they lined up. Yeah, they started to come up one by one. Then suddenly it turned ugly. It was an angry mob of preschoolers on Pop Rocks and Coca-Cola. They hit, they shoved, and I actually saw one little girl reach for the EYES of another little boy. She literally wanted to claw his eyes out - and in a Quaker School!!!! All for the love of Stuart. It was then that I realized I had to grab my bird, my bag and go...and not necessarily in that order if you know how much I treasure my purses.

So, as Pet Week comes to an end and I look back upon the beauty of the lessons taught to my son this week, I reflect upon what I've taken away from it all: when facing a classroom of preschoolers, wear protective gear and carry an old purse. Oh, and also, if you are lonely and can provide a loving home, don't forget to check out your local shelter - there's tons of love waiting to be adopted. That's how we found this special guy:

But I can't help falling in love with yooouuuuu.

I'm a sucker. A real sucker. I fall in love so easily. And I'm always the one who does all the work in these type of relationships. Take today for instance. I just ran into the store to pick up a few things. And there HE was. He was very handsome. Just sitting there with his friends, a little on the shy side, but confident nonetheless. I go for the strong but silent type, I guess you could say. I kept to myself for a while, pretending to shop, looking down the aisles, then peeking back up at him every now and then. Every time I looked up, our eyes met. I blushed, but he just cackled a bit under his breath...he knew he had me. He knew he'd be sleeping under my roof tonight. So, low and behold, here he is folks, the newest man in my life. Let me introduce the extremely handsome, smart, and pretty damn sexy....Stuart Kane:

Welcome to the Kane Zoo, Stuart. You'll be happy with all of our furry and feathered friends. You sexy man, you.

I wonder if Pauly knows yet...

Something happened along the way.

Strange things come out of Zeke's mouth. I'm always amazed at how inappropriate and how downright untimely they are too. Take for instance:

1. I Craigslisted his toddler bed a few weeks ago. Finally, someone wanted to buy it and they stopped in this past weekend to check it out. I was really hoping they'd take it since it's been sitting in my spare bedroom for what seems like an eternity. Just as they were getting ready to hand over the pesos, Zeke chimes in with "I think you're getting this for really cheap...you should buy it." Now, I've got to hand it to him, his sales tactics were pretty suave, but I just didn't need a 3-year-old getting in the middle of my sale at that point.

2. Again, I had a Craigslist deal happening with my old living room furniture. The potential buyers were supposed to have been at my house at 4:30 last Friday evening. Well, as it turns out, they didn't show up until 7:20. I was very, very annoyed because much of my Friday night was tied up waiting to get rid of furniture that I was about 8 years WAYYYY over tired of. I just wanted it out of my sight. As the buyers were hauling out the furniture, Zeke proceeded to say "why were you so late? My mommy was very annoyed that you kept us waiting so long." Ummmm...couldn't he have waited until the cash had traded hands???

3. Ok, here's a strange one. Zeke and I were having a catch with a tennis ball. The ball missed his hands and hit the top of his foot. He said to me "ouch, you need to watch out. You hurt my taco bells." I asked him what a taco bell was and he pointed to the tops of his feet. ?????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????

4. And finally, to top it all off and to solidify the fact that I'm raising a caveman...he just walked in as I'm typing and asked me if he could pee in the office garbage can. I'm really just treading water here folks...

Lovin' Valentine's Day...

Valentine's Day 2009. I'm a sucker for Valentine's Day, I admit it. Maybe because I have an awesome hubby who always remembers the necessities to make it a perfect day. First of all, I like to celebrate V-Day over about 2 to 4 days - not just one. Which makes it perfect that for 3 days in a row, Pauly brought me home surprises! First, he surprised me with Wii Fit, which I've wanted for a few months now. I'm so excited to have it, but Zeke is monopolizing it. Whatevs. Next, go figure, Pauly brought home some awesomely decadent chocolates! Thank God for Wii Fit. Then, while I was out with Zeke on Friday, Pauly dropped these at home:

To top it all off, on Saturday, we had Brynne (our babysitter) come over at 5 and hold down the fort while we took off for downtown Media. We browsed some of the boutique shops then had a wonderful dinner at a great little place called Picasso.

I have the best husband ever. I'm a lucky girl. Thanks for a great Valentine's Day Pauly. Yet again. XOXOXOXOXOXO

The Game

I can't believe my last post was so long ago. My blog is pretty important to me since it's become one of my main avenues for tracking my life with Zeke. So what's been up with us? Nothing much except...

Lately Zeke has been a handful. And not a fun one. He's testing me, testing my authority, and pushing the boundaries every chance he finds. For one, he likes to wear his winter gloves in the house and pretend they're boxing gloves. This doesn't amuse me. It mostly doesn't amuse me when the winter gloves go on and he starts boxing me while I'm trying to cook dinner, type on my blog, talk on the phone, or simply live my life. Another time the gloves bother me:

He enjoys eating with his gloves on. And his Incredible Hulk hat on. And apparently not much else. I swear, this kid DOES have clothes. Lots of them. In fact, it's tough to get his dresser drawers shut sometimes when I'm all caught up on the laundry. But, Zeke likes to accessorize his birthday suit most times. And I've learned something in the 3-plus years that I've known him: don't sweat the small stuff. Unless it's going to inflict severe bodily injury (and it must be really severe, as in: severed limb, concussion, loss of consciousness, or involving the loss of many pints of blood...you get my drift), I will not argue with The Toddler. Here's how it goes in my world with The Toddler: "oh, you don't want to put on your winter coat even though it's -36 degrees out with gusty winds, hail, and drifting snow? Ok, when you get cold, I'll have it waiting." It's just not worth the argument. And for him, my lack of reaction takes all the fun out of the game. So, he wears the hat and gloves at meal times. And he actually gets cold sometimes when he tries to push my buttons and refuses the coat. All in all, he's still healthy and growing and thriving. It's me I'm not so sure about sometimes...

Gimme all your nuts or I'll bite your tail off.

So, I'm wondering what the little, gray squirrel to the left thought when he meandered on up to the big pile of birdseed on my deck yesterday afternoon. He's been feasting on our birdseed for weeks now, just hogging it all up and scaring away many of the tiny finches that flutter around it trying to catch a quick bite. But today? Today was different. Someone new (look on the table to the far right) has moved into our hood. And little, gray squirrel doesn't look so confident anymore, does he? And, after reading this I can see why. Apparently Mr. Black Squirrel is a butt-kicker who's a bit out of his element living here in PA. Out of his element or not, it seems to me that he's made himself right at home and he's ready to rumble with Mr. Gray if he doesn't tone down the 'tude a bit. I'm just wondering how far into their feathery pockets the finches had to reach to get Mr. Black to rock Mr. Gray's world..

Why'd you doodie that to me????

Yesterday Zeke and I went to Mom Mom Mare's and Poppy's for our usual Thursday Romp. We never really know where we're going to end up, but Zeke doesn't care - as long as he gets to hang out with them, he's happy. Well, it ended up that we went outlet shopping in Lancaster (best BARGAIN ever...but that's a whole different post) and in the middle of everything, Zeke ended up with a bellyache. Needless to say, Zekey-poo had to do poopie. Since it was very early in the shopping trip, I told him he had to go into the restroom and well, go poopie. He refused. The ONLY two places for #2 in Zeke's mind are his own house or Mom Mom Mare's house. WHY IS THIS????? The mechanics of the situation are the same, everything goes to the same place, and the end result is the same, isn't it??? But no. Zeke refuses. Refuses so vehemently that yesterday he literally VOMITED IN THE MIDDLE OF A STORE. Yep. So much doodie built up in his system that it came out his throat. So, it's not a lie people. Your mom didn't fib when she told you you'd really, really get sick if you didn't get to a potty when you had to go. Zeke puked in the middle of a store aisle and I honestly believe it's because he was holding in his "stuff". Not good. Not good that I had to run him to a public restroom with his sweatshirt covering half his face so he wouldn't destroy even more of the store's floor, not good that his poor belly was revolting so terribly against him, and not good that when we finally got back to Mom Mom Mare's house he pooped so much that I thought her plumbing would be damaged. Here's a word of advice people: put your public restroom fears aside, carry some disposable potty covers in your purse, and learn to poop on the fly. The human body is a machine. Food goes in and junk needs to come out. Even the pope poops. Live with it. And Zeke, from now on, you're gonna' poop in public restrooms whether you like it or not...if I have to squeeze it out of you.

Clothing optional.

Naked is the new black. Or at least Zeke thinks so. Every time I'm not looking, the kid strips off all of his clothes. We go to the supermarket, fully dressed, come home, I'm carrying in the bags and within 2 minutes he's running around the garage naked. I pick him up from school, we pull up to the house and I see him start to take off his shoes and socks. By the time he's through the door and into the house, he's got his pants unbuttoned. In 30 seconds flat, he's naked. The other day, my brother Chris stopped over, sits down to start talking to me, and in walks Zeke completely naked. All he said was "hi Uncle Chris." Now in the past, I've been infuriated, embarrassed, and downright insulted by the fact that my son will not heed my warnings to keep his clothes on during the day. But lately, as this has become more and more frequent, and, well, let's be honest, as I see his little private parts fluttering about on such a normal basis (say, while I'm emptying the garbage or folding the whites...) I've come to realize that I may just be getting angry because I'm actually...gulp...jealous. Do I want to feel the freedom that Zeke feels when he strips himself of all his clothes at 1:30 on a Tuesday afternoon? Am I secretly just harboring some inner hatred of his carefree attitude about his body? Is it his lack of body consciousness that I want so badly for myself???? WELLLLL, IS IT NANCY???? I think it is. So, I'm calling a truce with Naked Zeke. He can roam Au Naturel for as long as he likes, conditions and company permitting. While he enjoys his freedom, I think I'll try to learn a thing or two from him. I'll start by removing my Spanx when I get in the shower...

Happy birthday, please pass the tissues.

Last night we had a party to go to for one of Pauly's work colleagues. It was a 40th b-day party/housewarming party. It was one of those things that has been on the calendar for about a month and I've been wondering if we really had to go to it, secretly hoping we didn't. I know that sounds horrible, but I also know you ALL know what I'm talking about. Well, we went, and to my surprise I was happy that we did. Now, don't get me wrong, I didn't enjoy myself. I literally knew only one person and that was the birthday boy. I was uncomfortable and feeling out of sorts in addition to still battling a sinus infection. I really just wanted to be home in bed in my comfy, toasty pj's watching a movie. I muddled through and when we finally got in the car to go home I realized that the birthday honoree was truly very happy to have seen us show up for his celebration. And then I thought of something else: this life I'm living is moving quickly. Like flying on by at warp speed. And if I don't go out of my way to do special things for the people who happen to have dropped into my world for one reason or another, then I will have lived my life in a very selfish little bubble. I will have never known the good feeling I get when someone says "thanks for coming to my party" - and the look on their face tells you that they truly mean those words. So, schnotty nose or not, I made it through last night and actually ended up the better for it. Maybe my mom did teach me a thing or two. Just don't tell her I said so...

Monster urge to giggle.

This morning was pretty funny around here. First of all, let me fill you in on the excitement. It's Pajama Day at school today. PJ Day is huge in Zeke's world. He gets to wear his pj's and slippers to school and bring his favorite stuffed friend. So, we've had his pj's picked out for weeks but not the stuffed friend. That came down to the wire with Mick the Monkey winning out. Mick always seems to win that type of contest. I tend to route for the smaller, less expensive stuffed friends (see my post called "Mick the Jip" and you'll understand why...), but Mick is always the lucky one. So, we got Zeke all washed up and dressed in his comfy pj's and told Mick to be on his best behavior. While Zeke was in his room looking for Mick, he wanted me in there with him since he feared there was a monster in the closet. This isn't unusual and honestly, it's getting old to me. Since our birdcage is nearby in the hallway, I wanted to just take a few steps out of Zeke's room, open the birdcage, and grab their water and food bowls to clean and refill them. Well, when Zeke saw that I had moved from his doorway, he FREAKED. He stormed out into the hall, put his hands on his hips and said to me "how dare you! Get back in my room and don't move a bone!" Ummmm, I think he meant to say "don't move a muscle", since I use that term many times when I'm trying to get him to sit still and I'm at my wit's end. I obeyed his serious command, but the urge to roll on his floor in laughter was overwhelming...

Frosty frolics.

Today was a real snow day. The kind of day I used to go to bed at night praying for. Like, literally, holding a rosary, saying millions of Hail Marys, promising I'd never punch Chris (baby bro) again - ever, type of praying. Snow days were always so downright awesome. We'd go outside with a million kids, play until our snot froze to our top lip or our mittens froze to our fingernails (whichever came first), then went into one person's house for hot cocoa and tons of marshmallows. It seemed like the day lasted for like two weeks. But today wasn't like that. I mean, Zeke was excited, but not flipping out excited the way we used to get. I guess nowadays a snow day is a bit easier to come by? Who knows. All I know is that I tried to make it cool - did the whole snowball fight, snowman attempt...heck, I even shoveled a bit of our walkway. I drew the line though when I found Zeke jumping up and down in 4 inches of mud and slush in the driveway. Snow day fun was officially over. I always liked the hot cocoa part best anyway. Can't blame a girl for lovin' her chocolate...

You don't know the half of it sonny.

The Naked Cowboy. That's what I've been calling Zeke lately. He consistently keeps me entertained with his renditions of sad songs, pitiful faces, and well, his cute little, errr, butt. You see, Zeke tends to enjoy playing the guitar in his skivvies. Maybe the skivvies are getting a little snug...maybe we need to size up or something...I don't know what it is. All I know is that when the clothes come off, that boy is ON. He grabs the guitar, sometimes a hat too, he gets in front of a mirror, a television screen or glass door (anything in which he can see his reflection) and starts to wail out some woeful tunes. Why do I call them "woeful" you wonder? Well, as I was preparing to start the nightly ritual of teeth brushing, etc. last night, I was giving Zeke a moment to finish up his cabaret performance. But this one took the cake. The chorus (or punch line, if you prefer) to his song was "Oh, yeah, yeah ba-ba-baby...my life...it's so horrible. Oh ba-ba-baby!" Ummmmmmmmmmmmmmm, WHAT???? What's so horrible about being an only child, getting to hang out in your underwear and drink chocolate milk and watch cartoons for 75% of your life so far and to not know a day of stress????? Holy moly. Wait until med school buddy.

Ew.

Some things I don't like at the moment:

1. freezing all the time
2. the fact that Girl Scout cookies are everywhere I look. It's really difficult to stay focused on my diet when super-yum cookies are talking to me telling me to eat them.
3. my nails. they're so yucky looking and dry and brittle.
4. not being allowed to wear contact lenses. i loathe glasses, usually won't wear them, and walk around half blind, squinting to see everything - thus creating crow's feet which will need to be addressed in about 1 to 2 years.
5. my digital camera. it's horrible. i had one and lost it. then i bought a good one, not great, but it was 2,352 times better than the one i'm using. but i lost it. i borrowed my mom's until i found it, then i lost hers. i bought my mom a new one, had none, then found the FIRST one i lost. but it's a dinosaur and just really corny. so i'm stuck using the corndog until pauly signs the purchase order for the new one..
6. we haven't seen neighbor horse in like 2 weeks because it's so darn cold. now that's not good.
7. winter just brings me DOWN.

That's it. Nothing else for now.

Mommy nose best.

Sickness has come over our household. I mean, it's not unusual for me to have the occasional cold, flu-y type stuff, or headache, but the boys in my house are normally super healthy. I actually don't think we had been to Zeke's pediatrician since his 3-year-checkup until this past week. Now we've been there twice in one week. And it hasn't been fun. Fever, runny nose, cough, congestion and basically just a bunch of ewwww going around in here. Being the ridiculous Virgo that I am, I've been walking around with a bottle of Clorox spray...spraying telephones, remotes, toys, counter tops, and pretty much anything that doesn't have a tail to wag. If the chi-chi's stand still too long, they'll get disinfected too. Here's hoping that some amoxicillin, some tylenol, and a bit of mommy lovin' will get my guys over the goop. There's nothing worse than seeing and hearing my boys under the weather. They're way too cute to be all schnottttty....

Ch-ch-ch-changes.

I'm in the middle of cleaning ALL of Zeke's toys out of my living room and officially reclaiming my space. He has "kidded up" way too many rooms in my house for waaaay too long now. So, for the past few days I've been bustin' a move getting all of the "baby toys" packed up and out the door, moving the "big boy toys" down to the basement playroom, and cleaning out all of the unwanteds. Next move: repainting and redecorating the living room! Today my mom and I went to pick out some paint samples and Pauly and I just had our first official argument over what color the living room will be. Why does he even bother??? He KNOWS I'll end up winning this war...it's not even worth discussing. It's absolutely ludicrous. He picked out some regurgitated pea green color that would remind one of a horrible stomach virus they once suffered through. Not going to happen. So, wish me luck. The battle is on. Like Donkey Kong.

It's not easy being green.

I can't believe my wardrobe today. I mean, I actually went outside of my house wearing AN EAGLES JERSEY. Not that I'm a hater or anything, but I'm just absolutely not one of those types of girls that wears sports junkadoo. The most I'll wear is like green underwear or something on football Sundays. Certainly not an Eagles jersey. But yep, I did. I felt very sporty today and definitely wanted the Eagles to win and go to the Superbowl. I think my reasons were selfish: I wanted a good Superbowl party. I just enjoy the social aspect of the whole "gameday" sitch. The conversations that take place all week long before gameday - who's going to have the party, what food will be served, etc., etc. It's just all very friendly and fun. But today...today stunk. I wore this stupid jersey, looked all manly and stuff, and the dummies lost. And now, worst of all, I can't enter into party-planning mode as previously anticipated. To top it all off, this ugly green color DOES NOT do a thing for my complexion. I've got to go change...

P.S. : Here's my list of peeps I'm sending my condolences to tonight since I know they were really, really hoping for an Eagles win:

1. Tommy, my big bro. I'll talk to you in about 6 months when you've finally come out of your medically induced coma. I believe the doctors will determine it is better for you to be comatose than to suffer this loss fully conscious.

2. Craig - I thought I'd be texting you up there in Boston with some whoopty whoo's....how sad, huh???

3. Missy. Seems you're pretty tuned into the Philly sports scene and I think you'll take this loss to heart since you're a heavy duty sensitive type. Think back to the Phillies, Missy...

4. My Mom. The party would've been awesome. *sigh* Save the green plates for a St. Patty's Day gig.

5. And finally, Pauly. You had it all worked out, babe. You had your appetizers, your lucky green shirt...it was all supposed to happen. Sorry for the letdown. Maybe in about 8 or 9 years when the new quarterback is properly broken in we'll get there again...

6. And really finally, finally: Blue our hamster: sorry you couldn't have been here to watch the game with us buddy. But here's hoping you're running on that big hamster wheel heaven. You were a true cutie and, well, the nights around here are pretty quiet without your squeaky wheel going round and round. See ya' little Blue...

Life lessons.

Today was a day that I think I'll remember for a while. It's one of those things that gets etched in your memory for one reason or another and seems to never fade. Today I brought Zeke to a retirement home for a bit of volunteer work with some of his schoolmates. I had mixed feelings going into it because it somehow felt "not right" since I rarely go to see my own grandmother in her nursing home. Why was I visiting complete strangers... did I think I was going to get some type of "extra credit" with God or something? I don't know. All I know is that when the flyer came home in Zeke's backpack, I felt the need to begin to show him that this world is made up of more than just himself and his tiny circle of friends and family. There are others out there who need stuff. And need people. And at some point in time, it's my job to show him how to reach out. I guess now is as good a time as any to get started. So, we went and we met a little old lady named Lilly. Lilly was precious. Not very talkative, very sweet and very alert. But there was something in her eyes and in her curiosity about Zeke that made me wonder what was going on in her head. She watched his every move as he colored on the construction paper cards they were making together. She studied his hands, his face, his hair. A tiny smile was on her pretty, wrinkly face the entire time they worked. And at one point, she reached over and touched Zeke's hair with just one frail finger. Zeke looked nervously at me and I told him it was ok, that Lilly was just happy to see him. And it was then, at that very moment, that I realized that Lilly may not have really been touching Zeke's soft hair. I think Lilly was taken back for a few brief moments today...back to a time when she sat at her own kitchen table, with her own toddler, with his own crayons, and they colored together on a cold winter's day. I think Lilly was touching her own son's hair, just for a second, and you know what? Giving little old Lilly those few moments to step back in time was very much worth any trouble it was to fit this project into our schedule today. And as far as getting extra credit with God? Who needs it? I feel like today was a gift - a little surprise tucked away that I forgot to open at Christmas. Thanks Lilly. And thanks Zeke. Today I've learned big lessons from a 3-year-old and a 90-year-old. Who would've thought?

Mindwarping

I've come to realize that January is probably the worst of all 12 months. One starts to realize that he or she is just plain fat and it's time to start Extreme Dieting if a bathing suit is in the future, the weather just plain sucks, and well, everyone and their brother has a cold. January in the Northeast is no fun. I played some mind tricks with myself today to try to make this January Monday seem less yucky and they really worked. And actually, they weren't even tricky. They were facts that just plain made me happy. I'll share them with you:

1. I went to a birthday party yesterday for one of Zeke's little friends and the only gifts the little girl was accepting were donations to a favorite charity. Ummmm...how cool is that??? And how great is the mom of that toddler for having made such a positive influence on her and instilled a sense of charity so deeply into her little, tiny being??? Kinda' makes you remember that there really are still good people in the world, huh?

2. One of my friends in our playgroup is recovering from her 2nd surgery in about 2 months. She's down for the count with stitches, staples and pain, and our playgroup has once again risen to the occasion to bring her dinner for about 3 weeks. This evening was my turn and it was just a nice feeling to be a part of something so heartfelt. It's a good thing when women can actually back each other up and help one another. It's just a really, really good thing. Again, it makes me remember that there are still good people in the world who I'm trying to model myself after.

3. One last one for you before I sign off and get some zzzzzz's. I giggle at the fact that I can still tell Zeke that certain "bad" words he says are "grown up words" or "curse words" and he CANNOT say them. Now let me fill you in...the words in question are words like "stupid" or "dummy" - but still, they sound horrible coming from a 3-year-old. So for now, in Zeke's world and mine, "stupid" and "dummy" are curse words. And he believes me. AAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAAA!!!

G'night peeps.

Getting back to busines.

Wow. It's been a long time since I've posted. Like longer than I've EVER gone since the inception of this bloggity blog blog. I have only one thing to blame my absence on:

Yep. Wii. I've been Wii'ing every night after dinner, just barely fitting in time for my teeny tiny 30 minute treadmill workout and 15 minute weight workout. And if I'm really, really honest, there have been numerous times that I've changed into my workout gear, my sneakers, gotten my workout face on (it's usually a really mean, "don't talk to me 'cuz I'm in a bad mood since I'm about to be sweaty for 45 minutes face), only to be completely sidetracked by a completely AWESOME round of Wii Golf with Pauly. And anyone that Wii's knows that one round of any Wii game turns into a two hour long marathon of trying to dig yourself out of a losing streak. You can't put it down. And that's it. That's why I haven't posted. Nothing spectacular. No fancy European trips to blog about. No awesome grad classes or spectacular new careers here. Just Wii. Little old Wii. But, darn, I am liking my Wii.

But if you ARE interested in stuff that has happened in between games of Wii in the past few weeks or so, my dear friend Shannon emailed me some awesome photos that I'll share with you. Yay for Nikicham Photography - at least she has kept up with my social life on film!

Obsession - Denied.

I've been obsessing on a particular breed of cat for YEARS now. And yep, you guessed it, Pauly has been denying me for years. He thinks it will hurt the feelings of the canine residents in our household. I think I have enough love to go around. Just look at these beauties:

I really, really want this cat. One resolution I can reveal: I will have a Sphynx by the end of the year...

2009 - The Year of The King

Today is the first day of 2009. That seems unbelievable. I guess I say that every year, but I think when you have a child, the time really does fly by even faster. Note to self: slow down a bit and enjoy the scenery. It's going by a bit too quickly. You haven't even downloaded most of last month's pictures yet, Nance...

Ok, so now that the holidays are just about behind us, let me tell you some of the highs and lows. Let's see...I guess we had one of those awesome Christmases where it's all about Santa and how he gets the gifts into the house, how the reindeer fly the sleigh all around, etc, etc. Having a 3-year-old at Christmastime was probably the all time best! I tried to savor every moment of it - taking pictures and videos and even just simply looking out the window with Zeke on Christmas Eve night to try to find Santa's sleigh up in the sky. Something about seeing the wide eyes and feeling the hope in his heart - it made me feel like I was a toddler again and waiting for my big stack of Santa presents. I tell ya' people, if you're on the fence about having kids, it may just be worth it for this one day of the year! It's really the most fun I've had since keg parties in college!!! Who would've known...

New Year's Eve even took on new meaning this year when we invited our Goshen Crew of friends over for the First Annual Toddler-Friendly New Year's Eve Bash. We partied like Paris Hilton on her birthday and rang in the new year at 9:00 p.m. sharp. A few of the toddlers were having trouble staying up for the new year's countdown, but they were troopers and made it through. I think our neighbors were wondering why the house that's usually in bed by 8:30 was so rockin', but hey, it's time we shook up the joint a bit.

As for 2009, I have a few resolutions of my own, but I'm keeping them secret. I believe a resolution is a personal thing, a challenge to oneself to be conquered or quit as one sees fit. I hope to conquer my resolutions if they will make me a better person in the new year. But, if I find as I go along that I'm losing myself in the resolution obsession, I'm out. So, therefore, I won't bore you with the details, they will be locked away in my mind for no one to know but me and perhaps King Otto (my first chi-chi) if he's really good. You see, there's still something very precious about The King, something intangible, that makes him the keeper of all that's sacred. Maybe it's that he's lived before and knows more than most...or maybe it's just that he was the only one in my household who was awake with me last night at the stroke of midnight. And my first kiss at 12:01 a.m. was from The King. Thanks Ottie...you were and always will be a special, special man.

You no likey???

This is just an official posting letting everyone know out there that, yes, I DID make it through the holiday so far, and no, I haven't stepped off the face of this earth quite yet. I'm just, well, overwhelmed with all the hub-bub. As I'm sure you are too. Ever notice that the time of the year that's supposed to be sooooo MERRY, is so very, very stressful? Now before you go labelling me Ms. Scroogie Pants, hold on a minute. I've had a happy, happy holiday and yep, it's been tons of fun, but jeez, there's only so much partying a gal can do. So, sorry for my sloggy bloggy - it's a bit lame at the moment. I'm sleepy and my comfy woobie is callin' my name. So I'm off like a dirty shirt...but I'll be back soon with some cool pix and witty banter. I promise. If not, you can go put Stinky John Jones on the top spot of your faves list instead of my rockin' page...

Icks nay on the ookies-cay.

It's Christmas Eve 2008 and things are getting jiggy around here. But first, I MUST tell you about the Santa sighting Zeke and I experienced last night. It was as mcnutty as a can of Planters. Seriously, I think Zeke almost fainted in the seafood aisle of Wegmans. That's how intensely hard his heart was pumping when we caught a glimpse of, well, Santa. There he was, standing in front of the seafood counter, long white beard, head full of glimmering white hair, and a jelly belly to top it all off. But, why was Santa in jeans and a gray shirt ordering 2 pounds of jumbo shrimp? And why was he next to some middle-aged brunette who seemed agitated that he was getting the jumbo shrimpies instead of the larges? It was baffling, but still.....it HAD to be Santa. Zeke and I stalked this Santa guy by pretending we were checking out some ham slices. He looked genuine, that's for sure. I told Zeke to go over and say hello. He told me he was afraid and that he wanted me to do his dirty work. Well, being the awesome mom that I am, I trotted over there, tapped the wifey-poo on the arm and simply said "my son here thinks that your husband is Santa Claus." She smiled and said "oh does he?" With that she tapped "Santa" on the shoulder and said, "this little guy wants to say a few things to you." Santa turned around, took one look down into Zeke's saucer-sized eyes, and said "Ohhhhhh, ho-ho-ho, I remember you sitting on my lap!" Zeke was mesmerized. Santa then told him to pull on his beard to guarantee the authenticity of his "Santacity", and asked Zeke what exactly was on his wish list. After Zeke spat it out in record time, Santa told him to be good, get home safely, and to simply get to bed early on Christmas Eve. With that, Santa walked away into the crowd at Wegmans as we stood and watched. It was simply...magical. Honestly, folks, I sorta' think it was Santa there at the seafood counter at Wegmans. And I'm not taking any chances. I'm signing off right now so I can whip up a few shrimp cocktails to leave out on our hearth for Santa's snack tonight. I've got some insider information now...Santa digs jumbo shrimp.

Hope your Christmas is magical too.

And that's just your TOP TEN???

Zeke's Top 10 Gifts He'd Like for Christmas this Year:



1. GPS System (so he "can know direction")



2. a digital camera



3. a scooter



4. Nintendo DS



5. Wii



6. a Thomas the Tank Engine dvd



7. a real drumset with 2 simples (cymbals)



8. a pogo stick



9. a skateboard



10. an iPod (he's tired of borrowing mine and wants his own)





Ok, so let's review this list, strictly on a monetary scale, if you will:



1. GPS = ~$300



2. digital camera = ~$200



3. scooter = ~ $50



4. Nintendo DS = ~ $350 when you get a case and 2 games with it.



5. Wii. Wow, here's the black hole of money, people. I never thought this Wii world was so...bizarrely EXPENSIVE. And it's the typical domino effect b.s. You buy one game and it requires a new controller and a cool chair to sit in while you play it, then new shoes to make you jump higher to score more points, then ankle wraps to support your ailing joints when you've played too much and you get early arthritis. It's just bananas. And I've entered the abyss. So has Pauly's wallet. Potential expense here: about $450 so far, but honestly, to infinity and beyond.



6. Thomas dvd. = ~ $12. NICE. I can handle this. This is a nice request. Santa likes this one. Why can't they alllll be number sixes?



7. Drumset = ~ ???????. I simply can't see myself allowing a drumset in my house. Not if I want any sanity at all. The 2 guitars already have me seeing double and hearing ringing noises in the dead of night. I'm drawing the line. I don't care if the drumset is being given away with a free pony. Well.....MAYBE then.....but only then.



8. Pogo stick = ~25. Easy. Done. But I guess when you factor in the emergency room fees, orthopedic visits, casts, orth checkups, cast removal, and possible rehab of the broken limb, the $25 pogo stick could start to enter the Wii monetary abyss.



9. Skateboard = ~ $25 but ditto #8.



10. iPod = ~ $250. And $250 is getting him the small one. He wants the iPod Touch so he can just touch the screen and navigate around without hitting buttons! I'm not giving in to this one.



Let's add it up: if you eliminate the iPod and the drumset, you get to a whopping total of about $1412.00. That's lunacy. But that's what my 3 year old has requested for just his TOP TEN items. It's scary how technology keeps on going and these toddlers jump right on the wagon. Problem is, that wagon is a Caddy and I was kinda' used to riding in the Chevy...

Hey Pop Pop E!

Thanks for the awesome Christmas gifts! We came home on a cold, rainy, sleety day yesterday and WOW! There was a big box of gifts for Zeke at the front door! Zeke LOVES the UPS man - especially when the return address is from way out west!!! Check out the pix of the unwrapping action:

The toys are awesome and, as usual, very age appropriate! What a great Pop Pop! Thanks a million and Merry Christmas!!!

Love, Zeke

We interrupt this broadcast...

Just wanted to let all my friends out there in cyberland know that, yes, I know you're waiting patiently by your snailmailbox for the Kane holiday card. I know you're wondering...did she forget? Is she boycotting the card sending this year??? Well, nope, I'm on it people. A bit late, but on it. A few things sidetracked me in the past few weeks but, alas, they will be in the mail by this weekend. So, hold your breath, check your boxes, rearrange your social calendars...the Kane cards are on their way.

Now get back to surfing that web, wouldya???

If you're happy and you know it, slap me in the head.

I'm in the middle of trying to clean my home office. If you've recently seen my home office, you'd know I'm in the middle of hell. First of all, this office isn't all that big...which is why we deemed it "the office". Second of all, anything and everything that hasn't had a particular place to go in the past, well, 72 YEARS, has ended up in here. And now I'm in here, on my hands and knees, trying to make sense of it all. It's been on my mind...slowing eating away at me...and for some reason I just mustered up the energy to start tackling it a few minutes ago. So, you ask, why are you blogging, Nancy??? Why??? Well, because, in the middle of this tiny little hellish space I call an office, Zeke has found it necessary to come in, sit in the middle of the madness, and PLAY HIS *&%$#%%$@# GUITAR. Honestly, I can barely walk around in here without bumping into something...when I'm alone! Now with him in here plus the guitar....I'M LOSING MY MIND.

Just thought I'd let you know. Now, what were we singing, Zeke???

Hey, how'd you get that black eye?

I was just driving home, my mind was going about 75 miles per hour (funny, that's how fast my car was going too...) thinking and thinking about all the things I need to do before Christmas is upon me. I came to a red light and was staring into space when my eyes fixated on the bumper sticker in front of me. It simply said:

IF YOU DON'T LIKE MY DRIVING, GO PUNCH YOURSELF IN THE FACE.

I think that's about the funniest thing I read/heard/saw all day and possibly all week. Funny in a sick, twisted way I guess, but well, a to-the-point-go-pound-sand type of funny. I feel like I could use that bumper sticker to fill in so many places in my life: If you don't like how I do yadda-yadda-yadda, go punch yourself in the face. eeeeeeee! It's freeing and funny all at the same time. Maybe someday I'll get to pull that one out of the archives when I really need it. Save it for a rainy day...you may need it too.

Good boy gone bad.

So who out there has a 3 year old boy? Because I just want to know if it's just my kid that is way out of line lately or if it's some type of biological warfare that China is silently waging upon innocent moms everywhere. Apparently the toddlers go to preschool for a few hours, some type of airborne noxious gas is piped into the classrooms, and these toddlers come home with attitudes the size of a large continent. And here's my primary fear at this juncture: what happens after December 25th and my "Santa Warning" has expired? Because that's the only card I can lay on the table that even puts a dent in the behavior at this stage of the disease. Is it just my boy or are there others out there that aren't so nice anymore? A cute face and the occasional sweet hug just don't seem to cut it around these parts either. I need some manners, some listening ears, and some respect back. Is that too much to ask???

But, oh, how cute you look when you finally fall asleep.

Maybe he won't even notice her. She's really tiny.

Today is Pauly's birthday. Wow. What a special day. I really, really like birthdays. They're big time. Without a birthday, that special person wouldn't be here. So, yeah, I take birthdays pretty seriously. So, Pauly, when you finally do get around to reading this, happy birthday. You are the peanut butter to my jelly, baby. May this next year be filled with laughter, love, music, happiness and, well....this little gal:

CAN I PLEEEEEEEEEEASE GET HER??????? I really love her and I really, really need a girl pet in our house. Even the darn birds are boys...

Happy Birthday Pauly. You are very loved. Now isn't that a great feeling?

Boring is the new "thing"...didn't you get the email?

Monday, Monday. Ew. As usual, I dreaded the onset of Monday once again. More so for Pauly than for me, but still, it was dreaded. Pauly has had an insanely busy schedule at work and today and tomorrow are some majorly busy/stressful days for him. I don't know if I could do what he does...and for that I think he rocks. Good luck on all of your presentations, discussions and dinners Pauly. Zeke and I have been thinking of you and praying for your success!

This past weekend was a fun one though. Saturday we went to a friend's birthday party and hung out with great friends then we headed out to King of Prussia to have dinner. Sunday was Mom Mom Mare's Annual Christmas Crafting with the Kids, so we all headed over to her house where she and Poppy had the house decorated and some cute gingerbread trains waiting to be assembled by all 8 grand kids. Zeke had tons of fun and he always enjoys an event where his beloved cousin Joey is there to hang out with him.

When this morning came, Zeke asked if it was a school day. I said yes. He said he wasn't going because it was boring. I told him get ready for a minimum of 16 years of "boring", and that's strictly if we're not counting med, law, or any other type of graduate school which will be a requirement of him after I've put up with years and years of his mayhem. "Boring" better start looking pretty darn appealing to Zekey-poo... "boring" is all he will know for a very, very long time.

I think I'll end there because I feel really good about spouting out phrases that my mom used to spout out at me. Ahhhhhh....how sweet it is.

Happy Birthday (oh boy, it's belated.)

Hey Pop Pop E!!!!!

Here's to you and another Birthday!!! We love you and miss you tons! Hope you celebrated in high style - no doubt you did! We were thinking of you and had a slice of cake in your honor!

Happy Birthday and many, many more! We luv ya!!!

And even some foxy soxies.

TGIF. I mean, really. TGIF TGIF TGIF TGIF. I feel like I've just run a marathon this week and this is going to be the best weekend EVER!!!! I'm totally super stoked. First off, I received pretty good news about my eye dilemma and it made me feel a bit better about the whole thing. I have a ways to go and tons of ridiculous tests to get done...but all in all, I'm on the right track. YAY! Secondly, I've lightened my personal load a bit by stepping back on some commitments that were taking up waaaaaay too much of my time and energy. The only "extracurricular" commitment I have to contend with is being a homeroom mom for Zeke's school, which, in a way, I consider part of good parenting. So, now, I'm once again feeling content, peaceful, happy with the friends and family I have around me and well, just lucky that my life is full of such goodness. Thanks especially to my Pauly who has been my rock, my advisor, and my handsome hubby through it all. You are so super awesome...I don't know where I'd be without you.

Now that we're on the subject of amazing things...wanna' hear about my newest obsession??? It's neato-sweeto and well, let's just say I'm making room in my menagerie of animals for yet another little cutie to hang out with us. Check 'im out:

Now, this isn't the exact Foxy Fox that has been hanging around in my side yard, but he looks EXACTLY like him. About 5 out of the last 7 times I've pulled into my driveway in the past few days, Foxy has been there eating some berries. He checks me out. I check him out. We stare at each other for a moment...I contemplate pulling out my camera to get the money shot...and while I'm digging through the mega-purse, Foxy scoots away into the woods. Bummer. Yesterday he was hanging out with 3 deer just having some lunch. Today, he was alone, just napping in the grass. I really just love him and want him to love me back, but something tells me he doesn't think I'm too cool. If he only knew the treasures that await him in my house - he'd have his own little heated foxy bed, foxy snacks galore, homemade foxy food, and I'd brush his foxy fur everyday!!! Come on Foxy...give me a chance.

Eye feel yucky.

It's not lively around here tonight. Pauly is working late and I'm in a sad, sad mood. Here's the sitch: I thought I had pinkeye on Sunday night. I guess now I can actually say I wished I had pinkeye. That is now that it's way more serious than pinkeye. I went to the doc on Monday, got sent to an opthamologist who told me it could be a few things, but to take some antibiotic drops EVERY HOUR during the day and EVERY TWO HOURS during the night (that sucked) and to come back to see him on Tuesday (today). Today, I find out that I have Iritis in my left eye and sever corneal irritation that could lead to Iritis in my right. And most likely this ugliness is a lovely little tidbit stemming from me having Lupus. Yeah, I've had Lupus for a few years now, but it's never gotten to the point where I've actually had any organ involvement. I guess now it has. If eyes are organs? I don't know. But this is one of the worst dealios I've had yet. I'm sad, upset, angry, worried, pissed off, more angry that I actually Googled Iritis since it scared the pants off of me, and then sad again that this is all going to most likely be an issue over and over again throughout my life now. But here's the thing: I'm alive, I can still laugh and talk and have fun with my friends and family. I CAN STILL LOVE MY BOYS THE SAME WAY AS I ALWAYS HAVE. And that's what matters. I go back on Thursday to have the peepers examined again. Would all of you cyber-friends cross fingers, toes, arms, legs, and anything else you can physically cross so that maybe I'll get some good news??? I'd be eternally grateful and send you good cyber kharma.

Oh, I almost forgot the worst part of all this eye mess....I CAN'T WEAR MAKEUP!!!! So, not only do my eyes feel horrible...they LOOOOOK horrible too!!! I swear, if this is the week that Brad Pitt decides to leave Angie for me and he comes knockin' on my front door...I'll be reallly, realllly pissed. I need my mascara on the day he comes to sweep me off my feet.

Diners are for 4 pm breakfasts, dummy.

There's much to talk about people. I haven't posted since LAST TUESDAY. That's some whacky stuff right there. Where've I been, you ask? Let's see. Here's the list:

1. Wednesday was spent baking Mom Mom Mare's famous cheesecake followed up by baking my first ever attempt at an apple pie. Both turned out good, thankfully, since the in-laws were the guinea pigs for those two taste treats. After I made the desserts, Pauly requested my famous spicy long hot fried peppers for the Thanksgiving appetizer, so I had to get them going and bake the tiny toasts that go with them. Pretty much, my day was spent in the kitchen. Howard Eskin would be proud of me. (Sidebar: I loathe Howard Eskin and anything that leaves his mouth. I hope he's reading this and realizes he's soooo NOT HOT and completely ridiculous.)

2. Thursday was Turkey Day of course. I spent the morning with the newspaper spread out on the table studying, mapping, and creating my game plan for the upcoming events of Black Friday (enter the soothing harpsichord music and tiny floating cherubs...). After my newspaper mania, we packed up all our baked goodies and headed up to the Poconos for a Thanksgiving celebration with Pauly's family. We pretty much had to chow and plow since I was allllll about getting home and getting a few hours of shut eye before the BIG SHOW started.

3. THE BIG DAY. At 2:50 am on Black Friday, I woke up, took a mini-shower (which means I dodged in and out of the droplets so I didn't get my hair wet), put on a baseball cap, and headed out the door to pick up a few other Mommy Bloggers and hit the stores. We were out and shopping by 3:55 am. It was fantabulous. Here's what Kohl's looked like when we pulled up at 4:05 am:

4. At one point in the day, we thought we had seen it all. We had seen women with no makeup, people walking around with boxes piled so high you couldn't see their faces, and a few babies out shopping with their parents at 4:30 in the morning (how ridiculous!). Then, we went to Walmart. Seems that Walmart can always top them all, huh? Here's what we found in the Walmart parking lot:

Yep, that's right. A Winnie. Somebody was so intent on getting into Walmart before anyone else that they chose to park their Winnie in the parking lot on Thanksgiving, feast on some Wawa turkey hoagies, and then catch a few winks in their comfy Winnie bunks. How bizarre. Sorry, I'd rather pay an extra $20 for my Leapster and sleep in my own bed, go wee wee in my own potty, and have a nice warm shower in my own palace. They can take the Winnie and their bargains. I'm just not that hardcore. Oh, and thanks Jenn and Shannon for the sweet pose next to the rockin' Winnie. At least you guys made it look a little cuter.

5. Flash forward to today, Sunday. We all slept in pretty late because the cold, yucky rain is a real bummer. Once again, my bones just won't warm up. We decided to go to a model train museum in Phoenixville so Zeke could have a bit of indoor fun. It was really excellent. Congrats to all of the men who work so hard to make the model railroad so cool and so much fun. After the railroad museum, we stopped at the Paoli Diner for a bite to eat. It was on the way home and well, I just wanted a place where Zeke could get pancakes and be happy. Guess who walked in while we were there??? Hurricane Schwartz. I was all set - camera in hand - to grab a picture for my bloggity blog blog, when I realized that he was....gulp....a jerk. He barely said a word to the waiter and never even exchanged pleasantries when approached. The woman sitting with him was pretty much a female Hurricane - all pasty and skinny and icky - and they sat there holding hands over the table. Now for the good part, folks. And this is when you'll be happy that A) Hurricane sat in the booth directly diagonal from mine, and B) I have really good hearing and listened intently to every word they were saying. The good part...Hurricane Schwartz ordered LEG OF LAMB!!!!!!! What the heck is THAT??? Who orders leg of lamb in a DINER???? The placement of Hurricane's dinner order leads me to believe one thing about this joke of a weatherman: he, in his ridiculous meterologically clouded (no pun intended) tiny (because he IS very, very tiny folks...) mind, thinks that the Paoli Diner is fine dining!!! I mean, leg of lamb, holding hands over the table? Those two things for me happen at Le Chic Foo-Foo....NOT THE PAOLI DINER. Oh Hurricane. You are sad. You are a tiny, pale, un-handsome, unfriendly, mean-to-waitstaff, leg of lamb ordering buffoon. Just goes to show you...money doesn't buy you taste or taste buds. Only gimmicky bow ties.

I'll take the white meat.

It's time people. Time to stretch my arms and legs, limber up, do some push-ups, and get on my shopping shoes. It's just about BLACK FRIDAY. And as you may have guessed...I'm allllll about doing the Black Friday shopping trip. The pre-shopping festivities start tomorrow with the arrival of the newspaper (Pauly, don't you DARE bring that newspaper to work with you...), only to be followed by the sprawling out on the floor and researching each and every ad to map out my plan of attack. This year's B.F. shopping will be a bit different - I'm not flying solo like I usually do. Instead, a bunch of playgroup mommies are going to meet up and join forces to scour the sales together. I've never B.F. shopped with others before because I like the freedom of flying here then there then back again whenever the mood hits me. But, I have to say, there's safety in numbers and on B.F., it's definitely "professionals only"...and that can sometimes get nasty. I have a feeling that if things get dicey out there in Toys 'R Us or Circuit City, Shannon McMayhem will start throwing elbows that nobody will see coming. Jenn? Well, I think she can handle herself in a line full of insanity given her day-to-day schedule. Sarah? Oh yeah. She's got what it takes to do the B.F. rounds. If anyone besides myself is a professional shopper, it's Sarah. She can find a box of safety pins in a Super Walmart in 6 seconds flat. Ask her, time her, she'll do it.

So, I'm ready. I've got my mommy posse lined up and I'll have my newspaper in hand tomorrow. All I'll need is a few good hours of sleep on Thursday night and by Friday I'll have my sneakers on, my baseball cap hiding a really bad looking head of hair (hello! wake up call is 4:00 am!), and my hot tea in hand ready to shop 'til I drop. If you're thinking of venturing out on Friday but have never been, here's my advice to you: don't do it. We're the professionals. Leave it to us. It's our day to shine. Stay home and do your laundry, catch up on a good book, or just hang out and clear out your old emails. It'll be a jungle out there...and we won't have time for a good breakfast - you amateurs make a nice snack while we wait in line.

You mean you don't deliver and set-up? But...I'll pay you...

This weekend was a blur. The only thing reminding me that a weekend actually occurred is the aching back I'm experiencing from hauling a ton of crappy Ikea boxes up to Zeke's room. Here's the sitch: we decided we were going to get Zekey-poo a cool loft-style bed so that he'd be able to sleep up on the bunk bed and hang out down below and have a desk with his computer and t.v., etc. I mean, after all, a 3-year-old needs a place to check email, read the NY Times, catch up on his blogs, Facebook, etc. He simply needed a cooler setup in his room. So, off we went on Saturday to Raymour & Flanigan. I found a nice set, one that I thought would fit nicely and would work out great. Big problem? It wouldn't be delivered for 4 weeks. We decided to go check Crap-kea (Ikea) to see what they had. Sadly, Zeke fell in love with a lofty bed there. Why "sadly" you ask? SADLY BECAUSE THE GIHUGIC LOFT BED COMES IN 2 HUGE BOXES THAT BARELY FIT IN MY SUV, WEIGH ABOUT 1,345 POUNDS, AND TAKES ABOUT 11 HOURS TO ASSEMBLE. What a nightmare. We decided to wait until Sunday to tackle the big assembly task. We'd be fresh and ready to go. At 9 a.m. on Sunday we started. At about 9:30 p.m. on Sunday we finished. And that's the very, very, very condensed version of the Ikea Loft Bed Assembly Story. The long version of the story isn't nice at all. Pauly and I argued, rolled eyes, walked out of the room, took time outs in separate rooms, each drank a few alcoholic drinks to take the edge off, and then finally....finished the lofty loft bed. At 9:30. At night. After about 12 hours of working on it. While Pauly missed the Eagles game. Hee hee. That was the best part of the story. I'm glad I didn't leave that out...

'Snow way I'm liking this.

As soon as I typed the title for this post, I realized how cheezy is was. **sigh** There's just been nothing too awesome about today, so an uncool blog posting title is the cherry on top of my poop sundae. It snowed today. A lot. And it's still technically fall. I hate the snow. I hate the cold weather. It makes me, well, really, really cold. My bones have been cold since about last Thursday and I can't seem to get them warmed up. Add 4 or 5 inches of snow and wet, muddy muck to the equation and I'll be a Nancy-sicle until June. No fun. Of course Zeke thinks it's great...which adds another crappy dimension to my cold weather blues. You see, I can't simply stay indoors and hate the weather. Nope. I have to be outside in it, playing in it, sledding in it, rolling it into giant, ridiculous snowpeople...all the while freezing the first 16 layers of skin off of my poor skeleton. Tomorrow I'm stocking up on tea, hot cocoa, and a new pair of warm boots. Ew.

Christmas is coming...

Thanks to Val at Stinky John Jones for reminding me of the awesome Elf Yourself videos!!! Check out our family video above. So sorry to my sweet, sweet Timmy. I only had room for two of my chihuahuas and Otto and Simon made the cut. Don't worry Tim, you're still a rockstar in our household!

You'll get coal and like it.

Santa Claus. Santa Claws. At least that's how Zeke is spelling his name this year. It's a no-go for the big man in red, I'm afraid. Here's the deal: we caught our first glimpse of him at the King of Prussia Mall this weekend and it's wasn't good. Apparently, ho-ho-ho is a big no-no-no until, and I quote, "I get older" (they're Zeke's words, not mine). So, we decided to just make a list and email it (oh, puleeze, snail mail is just too, well, slllloooooowwww...) to Santa instead of doing a face-to-face this year. We may even text it to him just to be sure he gets it the minute we're through the editing phase. Problem is....FINISHING THE LIST. Everyday, a dozen new things are added. I simply can't type as fast as Zeke can talk. Oh, and on the topic of talking...he has informed me that Santa will need to bring him his own cell phone so he can call Rocco and Caleb because "he needs to stay in touch". Wow. What's it gonna' be next year when he's 4??? An SUV so he can pick up his posse for a playdate??? Bluetooth so he can chat hands free while playing with his train set??? Who knows where it'll go from here, but I can't imagine it'll get easier (or less expensive...). Hold onto your wallet Pauly. You're in for a wild ride...

And you thought Snickers were nutty...

Hey Val (Stinky John Jones): ok, so you're all doggity-dog-dogged over there, right? And chi-chi is the name of your game, too? I'm likin' it, I'm likin' it. What I'm cracking up over even more is the super secret mission that's about to take place in your neck of the woods. For anyone who's not in the know, let me fill you in. Val is going to pull the wool over Mr. Stinky John Jones's eyes. It's gonna' be a good one. I have to say, I've done it before, twice, with about a 50% success rate. You see, Val is about to add a pet to the Stinky John Jones household WITHOUT telling Mr. John Jones. AAAAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHHHHAAAAHHAHAHAHA! My experience with this tactic is varied. I brought home Timmy, our 2nd chi-chi, with no pre-warning whatsoever. Pauly was stunned. But Timmy was such a little pile of lovin' that Pauly couldn't play tough guy. He was smitten as a kitten. Second time around was about 3 months ago when the parakeets made their debut. Didn't go as smoothly since cute and cuddly don't describe Buddy and Viper. Here's the thing tho: Pauly doesn't have it in him to kick a living thing out of our house. And that, my friends, is why he's Mr. Three's Company!!! The parakeets stayed and Pauly got extra big dinners for a month. So, Val, here's the deal...Mr. John Jones must have the animal-lovin' gene in him or I don't think you'd be his wifey-poo. GO FOR IT. Get your 2nd chi-chi and give lil' Chili a buddy. As a matter of fact, here's the perfect pooch for you (compliments of Petfinder.com:)

Romeo (part chi-chi/part affenpincher and 4 huge pounds of lovin'..) is currently up for adoption and actually said he'd love to meet an overweight, cream-colored, pink-sweatband-wearing chi-chi this weekend!!! Log on to Petfinder ASAP and make Romeo's dreams come true!!!! He sure is a looker...

Oooooh...I love mail.

So Val of Stinky John Jones fame has been playing this game "Pay it Forward". I think the game rocks! Pretty much all you do is leave a comment on whichever blog is currently playing the game, tell them you really, really want to play...and voila!, a lil' while later you get cool stuff in the mail like this:

I guess you can't really tell what the cool stuff is, but let me tell you all about it: just for playing Pay it Forward, Stinky John Jones sent me a super neat clip on book light, ultra-needed photo paper, yummy lip balm, and fabalicious udder cream for my, uh, hands (no, not my udders, all you smarty-pants out there...). Now it's my turn! The first 3 peeps who comment to this posting telling me they want to play will receive a little token of my appreciation in the mail too! All I'll ask of them is to PAY IT FORWARD! It's so nice - people in our blogosphere everywhere will start to remember what important people they are and just how much we all really, really like each other! How cool is that???? So get commenting...maybe you'll get a little care package in the mail. Wouldn't that be awesome???

S is for sleepy, that's good enough for me.

I never like Mondays. I usually just try to get through them with minimal damage. Sometimes, though, I get crazy and play the reverse psychology game on myself and try super hard to get tons of stuff done just to act like a big shot. Thennnnnnn I get to say that Mondays are for the real winners in life who can't wait to go out there and get the shidizzle done...just like me. *****yawn***** Today wasn't a Reverse Psychology Monday. Today you won't hear a peep out of me about conquering the world in 3 easy steps. Or even battling the overflowing basket of whites while texting, IMing, and emailing 7 of your nearest and dearest. Today I actually...............TOOK A NAP. OMG. OMG. OMG. OMG. OMG. Yep. I said it. Now I'm gonna' go say 10 Hail Mary's and an Our Father to make myself feel even slightly worthy of this industrious bloggity blog. I never nap. And even if I did, I wouldn't call it a nap, I'd call it a "rebooting of the brain". But really, I can't nap in the daytime. I fear the nap. I fear the quiet and mostly I fear the lack of "getting stuff done". A fifteen minute nap??? I could have cleaned out a closet and my rolling dumpster (car) by the time you were saying "wakey, wakey, cornflakey". In my Virgo-a-go-go mind, I've got to zoom. And to zoom, there's no time for the recharge. Recharging takes place behind the steering wheel in the form of caffeinated tea. But today, I slipped. My body wilted under me and it happened. My opinion of the nap now? Amazingly it's the same. I won't nap again. I feel as though I lost 39 minutes of today to nothing. Thirty-nine minutes with which I could have changed the world. Or at least emptied my dishwasher...

Getting on with getting on...

Everywhere I look I see Obama. I guess it's a fact. He's going to be our new president and I have to live with it. I'm not going to be a hater or B.O. basher. I'm going to try to find the positives and simply dwell on them. I worry tho. I worry about 60 cent...and you know who you are. How ARE you doing??? Your last phone message was, well, sad. Deflated. Beaten. Oh 60, it will be ok. Maybe it will only be 4 years. In the meantime, you still have 80 degree Novembers and short-sleeved winters. There should be no sadness for you, my friend. One thing, though. If you do decide to cross the border, please give us a forwarding address. You wouldn't want your awesome Christmas present going to the wrong place now, would you??? My advice: go for a nice long swim and forget your worries. When you come up for air, maybe it will time for another election.

TGIF

We stopped on the way home from school yesterday to see Neighbor Horse. He must have been in the barn, since it was a rainy day. On the way down the road back to our house, we came upon Cloudy. Cloudy is usually down in the lower pasture and out of sight, so it was a pleasure to get to stop and give her an apple and a hug. Lucky us! Isn't she a beauty??? Hey, Cloudy, wanna' come over to our yard and play???? Pauly won't notice another pet hanging around...

After a long day of school and playing, Zeke fell asleep all snuggled up with a friend. Check it out:

P.S. - Yes, Zeke has tons of pajamas, but simply won't wear them to bed. He sweats like a fat, old man if he does. Ew. Oh, and notice the two lovebirds holding hands in their sleep. Heehee.

You're talking about MY kid?

Today I heard some words that rocked my world. I heard that my kid was smart. "Very intelligent", to be exact. And that compliment came from none other than his teacher. Much, much, much to my surprise, since the last thing I had heard from her was that Zeke had literally "hit her in the leg because he was on time out from the sandbox for hitting someone in the head with a shovel". When I had been put on notice that I was going to be receiving a phone call from said teacher, the "oh my God's" filled my bod. I knew what was coming, but I didn't know what form it would take. Was it a sandbox incident, did something go down in the play dough section, or was there a rough and tumble chalk board situation to be dealt with? Zeke has been known to use chalk as a weapon in the past and well, I wouldn't put it past him to do it again, unfortunately. But no. It was none of the above. The phone rang. My heart sank. I cleared my throat and gave my best cheery mom hello. There was small talk, then it got to the point. I was told that although there are major "issues" with Zeke's loudness in the classroom (apparently he really needs to learn to use an indoor voice...duh, no kidding...my ears are scabbed internally), he seems to be quite bright and extremely intelligent. Ms. Teacher Lady wants to work with me to find ways to stimulate Ol' Zekey Pants and keep things freshy-fresh-fresh for him. Holy Mother of Poo. I had to pinch myself. Surely she wasn't talking about the kid who still carries around the tee-tee blanket and drinks a gallon of chocolate milk every other day??? But, yeah, she was. My world became fuzzy and I got giddy. I felt like I had eaten about 187 Hershey Bars with almonds and washed them down with 34 Red Bulls. Sweet little angelic cherubs started to float out of the phone and I swear I could hear them softly playing their harps and violins. Instantly, my skin got softer and I lost those 20 pounds I've been meaning to lose for 5 1/2 years now. The entire world just got completely....nicer. As she spoke about me needing to work on the "indoor/outdoor voice" stuff with Zeke, I think I would give her an occasional "uh-huh", but really all I could hear were those sounds that Charlie Brown would hear when he was in school : wah-wah-wah-wah-wah. All I knew was that I finally heard what I yearned to hear for a long time...Zeke's head has something in it other than bricks. It's not made of marshmallow fluff or the stuff that's in the middle of Oreos. Because most days, that's really what it feels like to me...

He's all man, baby.

I'VE BEEN SOOOOO CONFUSED.

.

Hmmmmh. Wow. Can't believe it. So, let me get this straight...I have to do ANOTHER retraction of yet ANOTHER post? One mistake is one thing, but two mistakes..in a row...well that goes into the category of "head up your butt". However, yes, I'm in the precarious position of needing to make a re-retraction (or is it an "un-retraction"???) of my November 5th post regarding the um, "femaleness", of the dear Chili the Chihuahua who was one of the supermodels in my Election Day Rant post. Let me just clarify Chili's gender, once and for all, so that we can give full genderific credit where 'tis due. Sir Chili is a he. Or maybe an "it"? Whatever. CHILI WAS BORN INTO THIS WORLD A BOY. What happened to Chili's privates (ballies, nuggets, or whatever other kid-friendly name you Mommy Bloggers out there have given them) is none of my concern. Chili used to be all man. And that's that. DON'T ask me why Val of Stinky John Jones fame chose to outfit her testosterone laden chi-chi with a pink sweatband during one of his exercise ball workouts...it's beyond me. Doesn't she know she has already toyed with his emotions enough by removing his "manhoods" already? Now a PINK sweatband? Enough with this retraction posting...I'm onto something more important. It's time to rally the troops and Save The Chi-Chi. Chili should have a BLUE sweatband. If Val cares at ALLLL for sweet Chili dog (hold the cheese), she'll email me her address so Zeke and I can send the appropriate workout gear for the hot dog (hold the bun) that he is...

My first retraction...so sorry Ms. Chili

I've never been in this predicament before. But then again, I've never been a professional blogger. Or, I guess I should just say "blogger", huh? God knows there are no pesos coming in from this gig...

Anywhooooo, I have a very serious retraction to make to my post of November 4, 2008. It seems I lacked judgment and assumed a bit too much from the picture below. We allllll know what assuming does now, don't we? The chi-chi below who was so kind as to serve as a model for my rant and rave regarding my election night woes was mistakenly referred to as a...gulp..."he". Chili is most definitely NOT a "he". Chili, of Stinky John Jones fame is all woman I tell ya'. And how do I know this (aside from a very distraught Val sending me comment lovin')?




Welllllll....look here below at this 2nd photo of Chili. Had I seen this one first I most definitely would have known he was a "she". I would have recognized a set of birthing hips like that ANYWHERE. Sorry, chi chi Chili. They say mid-section flab is the toughest to fight and it looks like yours is up for the battle...

P.S. Once again, my thanks to Val and Chili at Stinky John Jones for the excellent mugshots. I think Chili is perfect - muffin-top and all.

So many emotions throughout election night.

I watched and waited tonight. Can you see the eagerness in my eyes??? I held my breath as they counted the votes from each state and colored in their silly little maps on CNN...

I could feel it in the air. The "change" they've spoken about for so long was approaching. My anger grew...

Then my guilt set in for feeling so angry. Obama SEEMS like a nice enough guy. He has two really cute little girls...and his wife seems very nice....and maybe, just maybe they'll have a dog in the white house....

I don't know...I still feel betrayed by the American people. Idiots. They're all idiots!!! I should just return to Mexico and find my own true kind....ahhhhhhh, one can dream.....

Ay carramba!!! What am I thinking???? All this losing has got me muy loco! I don't know what to do or to think...


Bllleeeeeeeehhhhhhhh!!!!!!! I hate looking like a loser. I really wanted to win this election tonight. I think I'll just put on these here glasses and go undercover for a few years...


NO. I will not go down in flames. I will stand proud in my vote and my country. God bless our nation and our new leader. Let's hope the change he speaks of is true and needed. Now, can someone fetch me a snacky.



P.S. out to Val at Stinky John Jones- Chili is lookin' like a supermodel up there, huh? I hit her up on her celly earlier this evening to get her verbal permission to use her likeness in this post. It's all good. She thinks it will further her modeling gigs.

Noise pollution.

It's Election Day 2008. I should be wearing my best red, white, and blue cheesy sweater...or at least some starry fuzzy socks or something. But I'm not even really tuned into the whole Obama/McCain thing yet. Now don't get me wrong - I for sure voted earlier today. I wouldn't have missed that for anything. But something else has my head in a frenzy. Are you ready for this? Hold onto your hats, folks...playgroup was at my house today. Yup. I said it. At my house. And currently I'm still searching around for a few of the molars and eye teeth that were shaken from the very roots in my gums due to the insane noise levels that were coming from my basement during that playgroup. Throbbing is an accurate description of my entire being. I don't know how people do it who have more than one kid. It's two too many hands, feet, eyes, and most importantly...one too many mouths. Kids are loud. And you get a group of them together...it's like mixing ammonia and bleach. Ya' know what that gets you????? Mustard gas, people. And mustard gas will kill you...just like a bunch of toddlers in one room will. Here's the chemical equation: 4 toddlers + 4 toddlers + 1 playroom +lots of toys = instant parental death. It's gaseous, noxious, and ugly.

So there it is. Election Day was a bit on the loud side for me today and not because I was cheering McCain on. Maybe I'll rally tonight and get my cheers going for him. It looks like he's going to need them. :(

I'M A TOP MOMMA! CHECK IT OUT..

So, yeah, I made the Top Momma front page. I'm pretty pumped up about it. How completely deeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeskins. Go check it out...my button is the big 'ol toothy one - you'll see it, I'm sure. I posted that pic a while back when Zeke bit one of his friends (still really sorry about that Mikey...).

Go find our toothy button here Top Momma and click on it to get back to my site. I guess it seems stupid to keep clicking back and forth, but, well, it's just cool that Top Momma dug my shizzle...

Double trouble.

I was out shopping the other day and came across this license plate. I was so stoked to see another ZEKE in the world that I had to snap the pic and post it. Check it out:

Screamfest '08 (or Halloween 2008).

We made our way through another Halloweenie. It may not have been in complete style (#1: I wasn't too fond of the overpriced RIDICULOUS Thomas costume that Zeke insisted on wearing, and #2: cactus thorns. Anyone who was within a 5 miles radius of our trick-or-treating zone knows that Zeke mistakenly rubbed up against a huge cactus in someone's garden and was impaled by about 7 or 10 thorns. Why a 5 mile radius you ask? Well, the ear piercing screams traveled from Exton to Chestnut Hill and back down to Newark, Delaware...or so I was told. It was Halloween mayhem in all it's glory). Aside from the insanity, fun was had. Zeke also had his Halloween parade at his school which was extremely cute and thankfully, uneventful. Check my pix from all of the action:

So much pumpkiny fun.

On Saturday, October 25th we went to the Great Pumpkin Carve in Chadds Ford. It was so much fall fun that I wish every weekend could be Halloweenie!!! Check out my two favorite pumpkins (and no, I don't mean Pauly and Zeke...):

Light on the starch, Martha.

You all wondering out there how Martha, Martha, Martha was? Well, the experience was cool. Going up to NYC with 9 of my mommy blogger friends was fun, funny, and then funnier (the funnier came in when one of the mommies had to have her breast pump checked by the metal detector lady - AAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAAA, the joys of nursing...)...but seeing Martha Stewart in all of her sourness? I say WHATEVS. Let me start with the positive: she's much thinner than she looks on tv. And that's where the positivity ends. Martha isn't friendly or nice or chatty or warm. At all. She's exactly what you'd imagine her to be: very Martha-y. As stiff and starchy as her 360-thread-count cotton percale bedsheets, as a matter of fact. And to that I say, see ya' Martha, I'm off to see Ellen next time I do the rounds. At least Ellen will come out into the audience and shake a tailfeather or two with us.

P.S.: I'd like to give a big 'ol high five to Sarah for setting up this super fun trip. Sarah's a crazy one - you can see it in her eyes - and without that crazy spark, we'd never get into half of the nutto stuff we do. Sarah, you rock! Where are we going next??????

Martha who? Oh, THAT Martha Stewart...

I've kept you in suspense long enough...yep, I'm headed to NYC on Tuesday, Oct. 28th with 9 of my fellow Mommy Bloggers to attend the Martha Stewart show!!! We have no idea of what's in store for us other than we need to be on time (which, in our kid-filled world is EXTREMELY difficult) and we need to look cute (ummm, helllll-oooooo, you're talkin' to a bunch of lil' hot mommies who KNOW when to nix the ponytails and sweats and slip into something a bit more "Manhattan")! We'll have NO problem with the "cute" part...it's the getting from Philly to NYC by 8:30 a.m. that gives me the willies. I guess I'll load up on highly caffeinated tea (I haaate coffee) and hope the trains are on time. So, get your DVR's programmed..the Chester County Mommy Bloggers are in full effect and are taking over the Martha Stewart studio on Tuesday. It'll be easy to spot us - we'll be the MILF's in the front row.

Bambi doesn't have a beef with you, GI Joe.

Hunting is not a sport. In a sport, both sides should know they're in the game. ~Paul Rodriguez

'Tis the season, people. Hunting season, that is. And it's official, I'll probably begin my Black Days very soon. Possibly even tomorrow. What are the Black Days, you ask? Basically, it's just me dressed in tons of black. The summer is over, the weather is officially too cold for my comfort, and now the meatheaded novices are crawling all over the woods and farms around my neighborhood with shotguns and rifles acting like they are G.I. Joe out to save the world. Funny thing is...there's no one shooting back at them. Their enemy doesn't even know there's a scuffle going on. Their enemy is an herbivore for Christ sake! Wow, now that's a threat, isn't it??? UGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGHHHH. My head hurts thinking about it. I've already put The Game Commission on speed dial on my celly so I can report the dimwits who can't read the big 'ol yellow PRIVATE PROPERTY signs but choose to still park their ridiculous Ford F150's with their "Go Union" bumper stickers on them there. Ew. The thought of these tobacco-chewing numbskulls, walking around in their Wal-Mart camouflage gear, CARRYING A RIFLE!!!! It's horrible. And the worst part is that last year, as I was pulling out of my street, one of these heroes was merrily slaughtering a deer right there along the side of the road - a beautiful country road lined with numerous horse farms and 100 year old oak trees - just chopping him up and letting the blood spill out on the road for all to see. Including my 2 year old son at the time. So, that...the cold, the hunting, the meatheads in my neck of woods...it's all bringing me to the darkside. I'll be the one in black tomorrow. And probably for the next few months.

Meat(ball) me in the closet...

Here's another one to add to The Book Of Strange/Whack Things That Leave Zeke's Mouth: whenever he goes into my closet in my bedroom, he starts yelling "shady meatball!" and runs out. Today he did it and I asked him what exactly a shady meatball was. He simply said that when you see a shady meatball, you have to pat it down until it's flat. ????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????
I really have no clue what he's talking about since I haven't touched a meatball in over 20 years and meatballs RARELY make an appearance in my home let alone my closet. And yes, if you're starting to now put blog entries together, this IS the same closet that was serving as the Milkbone embryo hatchery about a week ago. What is it with my closet and why are bizarre spirits and strange meat products attracted to it? More importantly, why can't more Prada, Chanel, and Marc Jacobs spirits work their way into my closets via some nice handbags and shoes?

I could just eat 'im up with a spoon.

HOW DOES HE DO IT??? I mean, how does my sweet Timmy smile on command? I've heard of dogs rolling over, sitting, giving their paw, even speaking. I've been impressed by them all. Let's face it, I'm impressed by any canine antics. But look at my brown and white boy up there all giggly faced and grinny...who couldn't love that puppadidalidooo? The world would be a much lovelier place if there were about 6,734 more Timmy's trotting around. Really.

I had to tell him I was married. I ruined his night and pretty much his life.

Yeah, that's Matthew Ryan and MEEEEE up there. And yeah, he's holding a sign that says Zeke. He's holding that sign b/c he's Zeke's all time fave singer and well, I couldn't quite bring my 3 year old to a show yet. So, I did the best I could and had M.R. send his tidings via a Zeke sign. But let's get back to ME, ME, ME. FREAAAAAAAAAKIN' YEAH RIGHTEOUSNESSSSS!!!!! ME AND M.R. hung out on Friday night. Well, maybe not "hung out" but we "got together"......... Well, maybe not "got together" as much as I paid to "see" him. But, well, he DID stop to talk and hold that lame-ass sign and was very, very gracious about it AND told me to get closer to him when the picture was being taken. That counts for something. Seriously, that boy can sing and write tunes. If you don't go check him on iTunes immediately, you're not my blog friend anymore. Period.

Start decorating the nursery.

Something strange is in the air. The King (Otto, our chihuahua) is trying to hatch a bone. You did read that right. He's trying to hatch a bone. And he's a HE. He's been perched like a hen in our walk-in closet for 4 days now, on Pauly's 10-year-old fuzzy bathrobe, with a bone underneath of him. When anyone approaches him, he growls and shows his teeth. I think The King thinks a puppy will be born of that bone any day now. He thinks there's an embryo in that Milkbone. It's insane. He won't eat, he barely gets off the bone to take a drink. He's obsessed with the Milkbone embryo. I really think I'm going to talk to Dr. Jane (our awesomely super vet) to see if I should rob his nest while he's up getting a drink. Funny how I'M getting obsessed over the Milkbone embryo too, isn't it??? It's kinda' all I've been thinking about for the past few days. I run home to see if The King is still hatching. I take a break from whatever I'm doing to see if the hatchery is still running. At commercial time, I check in on the Milkbone embryo. What is it that's so compelling in there on that bathrobe???? Does The King know something we don't??? I guess only time will tell. I'll let you know if anything pops it's head out of the bone..other than the mold that's starting to form.

Wordless Wednesday.

This is John Surface, a.k.a. Zeke, playing his guitar. John plays his guitar a lot these days. Like, all the time. At least 20 to 30 minutes out of every hour that we're at home. I'm just sayin'....that's a lot of guitar playing for little John Surface when he hasn't even had one lesson (and you can DEFINITELY tell he hasn't had a lesson..). Did you know the ears bleed when too much noise is piped into them on a regular basis? I've lost 22 pints of blood since this guitar obsession hit.

Peace, love, and guitar, peeps.


P.S.: I know, doesn't John Surface actually look more like the Naked Cowboy???

P.S.S. (or P.P.S.?): If you're not in the loop with the John Surface sitch go back a few days and read my bloggity blog. And for future reference, stay in my loop, 'kay???

Target: the cure for the common cold.

As we know, yesterday was not a good day for me. I did power through though and made the best of it. Zeke and I went to a pumpkin painting playdate then on to a friend's b-day celebration. When all of the fun was done, I floored it on over to my doc's office. Dr. Lou is the MAN...I was in and out in 20 minutes with a script for the Z-Pak in hand. I ran over to Target to have my script filled because, well, along with an antibiotic, I felt that a bit of shopping therapy would do my goopy head some good. An hour later (and $101..), I was outta' there with the goods and now today I'm feeling like there may be some healthier days in store for me soon. I decided though that today Zeke and I are laying low - we're doing laundry, vacuuming...ya' know, all the stuff that's usually too lame to do on super nice 70 degree sunny days. I'm hoping that by tomorrow I'll feel ready to conquer the world again. Or at least Chester County.

It's snot my day.

I feel like crap. That picture above??? That's about how my head feels at the moment. I'm all jammed up and it's not a traffic jam up there folks, it's a head full of goo. I've got nothing to say except, excuse me, I've got to go blow my nose now.

Jack-O-Lanterns everywhere. Ya' know, the "people kind".

Yesterday was our annual trek to the Pumpkin Festival in Jim Thorpe, PA. We go to Mom Mom Cookie & Pop's house and make our way down the road to the most awesome pumpkin festival on the mountain. It's super duper fall pumpkiny fun and well, to be honest, seeing all those mountain mommas and papas makes us giggle all day. Cookie and I noticed quite a few "hotties" throughout the day that boosted our ego...quite a bit. Suffice it to say that dental plans are NOT part of the their benefits packages. I'll leave it at that.

So, we counted and realized that this was Zeke's 4th official Pumpkin Festival - even though he's only 3 1/2. He's a pro by now. He knows the scoop...as soon as we enter, he immediately perches upon the heaps of pumpkins for the photo op, then we head to the food booths so that Pauly can check out the goods. I'm always too anxious to get to the rides and Ghost Town to eat, so I'm in charge of rushing the meal as much as possible. As soon as the 5 minute meal is gobbled, we head for the fairway where all of the rides and games are located. This year had a really neato addition - there was a pen of baby deer that the kiddos could enter to feed and pet. Wanna' know what bummed me out MOST??? No adults allowed. Ummm, WHY? I soooo wanted to give those little sweeties a hug. Zeke and I see them every day in our yard and this was the perfect opportunity to finally touch their amazing fur and see their cutie pie eyes up close. But no. Nope. I was shot down. I even pulled out the big guns saying to the gatekeeper that I was afraid Zeke may "manhandle" the deer. Nope. No entre for me. She told me she'd keep an eye on him for me. UUUUUUUUUUUUUUGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHH. LET ME IN, HORRIBLE HITLER MOUNTAIN LADY!!!!!!!!! Anyway, Zeke loved it, I kept poking my hand through the fence and manged to stroke a few deer heads with 2 fingers every now and then, but all in all it was a pretty sweet addition to the Pumpkin Festival.

Uncle Johnny and Aunt Melany joined us at the festival which completely MADE Zeke's day (since he totally thinks Uncle Johnny is a rowck starrrrr...) and I managed to get a great picture of Johnny and Zeke. Funny how the two of them really look alike, I think.

We finished off the day with a trip to a cool restaurant with an awesome view from the highest point on the mountain. It was gorgeous. Amazingly enough, Zeke fell asleep on the way home...which never...I repeat...NEVER happens. I guess that means it was a good day, huh?

Next year: our 5th official trip to the Pumpkin Festival..

An apple a day, Mr. McCain.

Wow. It's gettin' hot in heeeeeeer. I've never seen the temperature rise or felt the pressure tighten as much as it has lately in these parts. Life is just so darn POLITICAL right now. And I'm so freakin' into it, that I can't get my mind off of it. Never, ever before have I been so concerned about what's about to happen. Is it just me? I don't think so. I had a charged, intelligent conversation with 3 other playgroup hot mommas last night, and I was shocked to find out that they're McCainiacs too. Yeah, I'm one of THEM again. I know, I know...you thought that winky-eyed, kissy-faced Sarah girl scared me outta' town...but I just can't do it. I can't vote for someone who seems so radical (Obama). He seems like he's hiding something to me and I just can't put my finger on it. Could it be all of his middle-eastern ties that make me quiver? Maybe. Or maybe it would just make me feel better if he still called himself Barry. Call me crazy, but the name Barry makes my tummy less flip-floppy.

Sorry all you dems out there. I hate to disappoint. I'm simply praying that old Johnny Boy can keep his cholesterol in check and hit the treadmill for 30 minutes a day for the next four years. McCain MUST STAY HEALTHY FOR 1,460 DAYS. I'll be one unhappy senorita if I have to deal with a moose-killer for a president. It just won't be cool.

The only problem is it doesn't offer a 401K plan.

I just dropped Zeke off at school. His nose was a bit stuffy today and I really, really wanted to keep him home and just snuggle him up in my bed all day. It took a ton of self-control to stick to the day's schedule. I know for sure that it's his seasonal allergies kicking up, but still, I hate it when he sounds all congested. My poor little man. I just wanted to squeeze him and wrap him all up in his tee-tee cover (Zeke's version of a woobie) and keep him cozy all day. Of course, it wouldn't happen even if I did keep him home from school. He'd chill out for about 10 minutes, then he'd be up and ready to go outside to play. He's not the type to lay around for any extended period of time. Even when he had pneumonia last year, we were outside, bundled up in 10,354 layers of clothes, swinging on our swingset. Insane. I guess it's better than having a little couch potato. I realized something today tho when I was getting him all duded up for school. He's still just a little guy. He has little feet, little hands, little ears, ...everything is just miniature on him. It's so darn cute. As old and experienced as he acts at times, he's still just a little, tiny person making his way in this world. I love to just hold his hand and feel it's tininess at times. It's so vulnerable. And I know that it's not going to be that way for very long. These are the days I'm so thankful that I get to hold his hand...every single day as he grows up. He reaches for ME when he cries or when he wants to show me something he just drew. It's the greatest feeling in the world when I stop to think about it. I'm his center right now and I must, must, must remember that no matter how many times I miss being in a career, that this specific career...the career of creating a person...is far superior to any job I've ever done in the past. Even if I go back to work and exceed all of my expectations for myself, I think Zeke will be the highlight of my resume. After all, he's the only "job" I've ever done that has ever said "I love you" back to me. Now that's a pretty big paycheck.

Famous...in his own mind, that is.

Something strange has happened in our household. Zeke has become obsessed with playing the guitar (he has a miniature version of the real thing), and he won't put it down anytime we're at home. It's cute and cool and all that, but I have to admit, at times I find it somewhat annoying. Now, as a mom, I guess I should be all gaga over my baby's new found interest and all that junk. But, well, I just don't FEEL LIKE stopping every 10 minutes to listen to some newly created song called "The Lovely House" or "Avalon Shores". Yeah, the songs have pretty decent names, kinda' deep if you ask me, but the singing/guitar playing sometimes borders on making my ears bleed. Here's the wacky weirdo part of this whole thing tho...ever since this guitar thingy started, Zeke has proclaimed himself "John Surface". When I ask who in the heckio John Surface is, he just "air guitars" and yells "ROCK STAR"! Holy Crap. My 3 year old is living a double life as a toddler glam rocker. In his mind, that is. Isn't this why child psychiatrists were invented? And don't they like really, really medicate kids that exhibit these types of behaviors? Wow. Never thought it'd happen to me or mine. Here's my plan of action: it's simple. Don't ever, ever, under any circumstances, tell Dr. Joe (Zeke's pediatrician). If Zeke mentions John Surface at his next checkup, you can bet the house and cars that I'll tell Dr. Joe all about John Surface...my long, lost uncle from Nebraska who used to play bass in an 80's hair band.

I'd like to give a shout out to Timmy Kane.

I guess you all watched the vice-presidential debate last night, huh? What did you think? Now, I don't want my bloggity-blog-blog to get all political and hot and bothered. I'm not all about that. But I can say that Pauly and I have had some major words over this coming election. He tends to be pretty secretive about who he's going to vote for so that he doesn't sway my views. Whatevs, I'm not that wishy-washy this time, buddy. Admittedly, I have been in the past, but watching my 401K dwindle down to ridiculousness has made me a bit more aware than usual. God knows I still want to be fabulous in my 70's. So, about that debate last night...what the heck? WHO IS THIS PALIN LADY AND WHY DID THEY LET HER OUT OF ALASKA??? I really, really wanted to vote for McCain. For various reasons. But mainly because I think a president of the U.S. should have had the experience of actually fighting for his country before having the distinct opportunity of leading it. McCain, as we all know by now, is a war hero. Yadda, yadda, yadda. But after last night, I can't vote for him. Palin is a buffoon. What vice-presidential candidate gives "shout-outs" on national t.v. during a debate? What v.p. candidate actually WINKS at the audience and the American public NUMEROUS times during a debate? WHO CAN TAKE HER SERIOUSLY??? I certainly can't. It makes me sad b/c I thought it was all wrapped up in my head - I was voting for McCain, even though I had reservations. He was the lesser of two evils, sad to say. But now, well, he's got some hokey jokey Alaskan dummy at his side who can't seem to get the word "maverick" out of her head. It's over. I'm voting for Timmy Kane (my chihuahua). At least he doesn't give ludicrous shout outs to 3rd graders..

Smoking cessation program.

Since we were all beachy-keen yesterday, today was a day of catching up around here. It's nice to have the day every once in a while to play catch up and just get stuff done. I need that to keep my sanity. Zeke helps (in his own way) and tons of things get accomplished. First on the list was to clean out the rolling dumpster, a.ka. my car. It was completely, out of this world ridic. I literally opened the back door and a fly was sitting in the back seat on a pile of peanuts like "yo, close the door...". It wasn't good. Out came the Lysol wipes and shop-vac. Now my car is shiny and new again. For a half-day at least. Tomorrow is a new opportunity for Zeke to get it all gnarly again.

During the Big Clean, we saw my neighbor Shep. Shep rocks. He's one of the only neighbors around here that we really see on a regular basis, so Zeke tends to absolutely love him. Shep is also about 60 years old and looks like he belongs in ZZ Top. He's one of the original farm owners here in our development and he tends to not look too fondly upon the "yuppie types" who came along and built the newer homes around his farmhouse. Then there's his relationship with Zeke. He can't seem to be mean to Zeke. It's funny. Shep wants to dislike Zeke. Shep wants to ignore Zeke. Hell, Shep ignored me for the first 5 years I lived here. But no, Shep and Zeke are buddies. They pretty much talk every day about life and the stuff going on in Zeke's little dirt pile at the top of our driveway. And now, Shep talks to me. Maybe it's because he has to or because it's just the right thing to do if he's going to talk to my kid. But all I know is, today, Zeke told Shep that he should stop smoking the cigars that are ALWAYS dangling from his mouth as though he were born with a lit one in there. And ya' know what? I have a feeling Shep may be out buying some Nicorette patches as I type. That makes me feel like Zeke and I accomplished a whole lot today...

He wasn't going to solve differential equations today, so he didn't miss much at preschool.

We hit the beach today for one last hurrah. It was awesome. Just me and my boys playing on the beach as if the summer hadn't ended so abruptly as it just did last week. We built a stellar sandcastle, walked on the jetty (one of the perks of no lifeguards!), and splashed in the water. After the beach, we walked on the boardwalk, ate some nice beachy treats, and played in an arcade until we ran out of quarters. All in all, it was super, duper, faux-summery fun. When we were leaving, I was a bit misty-eyed. I had tons of fun at the beach this year with my family. Maybe we'll head back down again before next summer, but we probably won't be able to sit on the beach and relax in the warm sun again. I always shed a little tear when I know that's the case. I love the beach and all the beachiness that goes with it. And I can see in Zeke that he feels the same. Cheers to a great summer of 2008. And personally, I think it was well worth it to let my Zekey-poo play hooky from school to send it off with a bang! That doesn't make me a bad mom, now, does it???? Too bad if it does. Priorities people, priorities....

Random thoughts wanted. But I'm really not too random.

So, I've been "tagged" by a few fellow Mommy Bloggers in the blogosphere who want to know 6 random thingys about me. I found this out yesterday and the funny thing is...I've been stressing out over this "random" crap for over 24 hours now. Well, not really stressing, but it's been on my mind. There's nothing very random about me. I'm an extremely planned out person. Random doesn't fit in my life. Surprises scare me. Spur of the moment? I'll lose hair over that catastrophe. Anyway, I'll try to give you 6 very well thought out factoids about my persona:

1. I'm a true Virgo and like order, order, order. It makes me a much calmer person in life. Some people call this obsessive compulsive disorder and take massive amounts of prescription drugs for it. I prefer to call it Virgo-istic.

2. I love purses. I get frenzied when I spot the handbag department of any store. I actually get blurry vision and sweaty palms. I notice EVERYONE'S bag EVERYWHERE. A good bag can rescue any outfit - I don't care if it's sweatpants and yesterday's hair.

3. I believe that any sickness can be cured by drinking massive amounts of water. Water is your friend, people. Drink more of it.

4. Which brings me to random factoid #4: you'll NEVER see me without a very large bottle of water in my hand or bag. Take a look. I dare you.

5. I hate long nails. They are unnatural and uncomfortable. I like short, filed nails with clear polish on them. Period. Except for toenails. I say go all out with toenails. There's nothing cuter than a great pedicure, an exceptional flip-flop, and a red toenail.

6. I really, really dislike pigs. I admit it. I mean, I adore animals in every sense of the word. But I've come to realize that I just can't deal with pigs. Not even potbellied pigs. I've seen pigs twice recently at local fairs, etc., and I was extremely appalled. Sorry, piggies, you just are NOT cute.

and here's a bonus one for ya's:

7. I haven't eaten meat for over 20 years. Can't even cook a good steak for my hubby. Sorry Pauly...


And I know I'm supposed to do a bunch of things now to complete this "random" mission, but I think I'll just leave it at this. You guys know I'm not very good at following rules...

This little piggy became breakfast. (And I don't even eat meat.)

Eeeeeheheheheeeee..why does this picture remind me of my brother the COPPPER??? You readin' this Chris? Sorry, I couldn't resist. Actually, I took this picture over the weekend when we visited the Colonial Plantation at Ridley Creek State Park. And Mr. Piggy up there was very much alive and loving life. He was just laying in the mud soaking up the sun. But wow, the smell...not very nice. Excuse me Mr. Piggy, why must you be so..."piggish"? And your room looked like a pigpen. Clean it up.

Woe is me.

Today = crapalicious. And here's why:

1. I woke up with a really horrible neckache. It remains horrible and it's almost 10 pm and tons of Aleve later.

2. Zeke CRIED when I dropped him off at school today. Don't bother with all the yelping about "that's what you wanted him to do" junque. It won't help my broken heart. It's all mangled, messy, confused, disgusted, and melancholy. The only thing that will get me back to my old happy self is a a nice new horse in my backyard. Even an old horse in my backyard. Whichever.

3. Simon seems like he doesn't feel well. I don't know how old Simon is because I adopted him, so he could be REALLY old for all I know. I LOVE, LOVE, LOVE my precious little Simon even with all of his character flaws. He may be a stinky little anti-social graying semi-toothless not-too-handsome-to-the-outside-world-4-lb.-chihuahua, but I absolutely think he is precious. I hope he knows how great his little soul is.

Such a sucky day. Ew.

How COULD she????

Ok, so I used to work at HUP (Hospital of the University of PA), but that was before Zeke or simply "B.Z." as I like to call it. While at HUP, I worked with a super-fab girl named Christa. I took to calling Christa "Missy" for some crazy reason, so here's my rant about Missy. I love Missy. I think Missy rocks. Missy, I think, loves me. At least I hope so. Do you Missy? Do you? Do you? Anyway, Missy has this awesome blog called http://thefoxandthecrow.blogspot.com/. When you check it out, you'll see that Missy is a natural-born writer and her stuff is addictive. It's funny, dry, witty, cutting-edge, and just plain cool. Then, I came across her post of September 16, 2008. I was turned inside-out when I read Missy's post. I read it, then re-read it just to be sure I was "getting" what she was writing. HOW COULD SHE BETRAY ME LIKE THIS????? WWWWHHHHHHYYYYYYYY? After all we've been through, after all the long, crappy days in that office, Missy. After those seemingly endless days up in Pathology looking at all the ugly stuff we never really wanted to see in the first place - I thought we *had* something? A bond of some sort. But no. You go and diss me with an anti-pooch post. All you in cyberland reading this...please, go now and read her madness. It's jibberish. It's maniacal ranting. It's simply...wrong. It's the mutterings of a good friend gone....well...CAT. And tell me, have you ever heard "catty" used as a compliment? Sorry Missy, I love you, I love your wicked sense of style, and I love your intelligence. I also love your house full of cats. But show me some chi-chi lovin', girl! I'm sure my pups will give you lots of sloppy, slurpy smooches if you change your evil ways...

Oh, wait, I've got it...

Just dropped 'im off. I'm not all nutty about it today. Maybe I'm getting the swing of this *school* thing, now. I actually drove home really, really fast so that I could maximize my alone time for MOI!!!! I figure, what the hell, it's Friday...why not REALLY crank the iPod while I clean the kitchen. Does that make me a total loser????

Here's what I've learned so far about being a school Mommy:

1. It's not cool to crank inappropriate music in carline. Note to self: turn off the iPod when turning into Goshen Friends parking lot.

2. It's also not cool to show up for carline 30 minutes early just so I can spy on my kid while he's in the playground. Jenn H., you need to heed this advice...

3. There's something amiss when my kid has only been in school for 6 days and he is correcting my inappropriate language. i.e. Nancy: "Oh, crap, I burnt the chicken." Zeke: "Mommy, you can't say crap."

4. Never, ever is it ok for Zeke to wear the Fight Club t-shirt to school. What is the Fight Club t-shirt? Oh, let me tell you. It's a stellar piece of clothing that Pauly bought at 5 Below one day on his lunch hour that apparently he thought was swell. It has a picture of two boxers duking it out on it and it says "Fight Club" in big letters across the chest. Ummmmm...way to send a message Pauly. Not good.

5. Lastly, I'm going to be ok at this whole thing. And as someone so wisely commented to me recently (Stinky John Jones) maybe I'll smarten up and use this time to ride some handsome horsies...

Who's that girl?

Wow. There's not much to say. It was a school day for Zeke today, so what's that leave me with? Me. That's what. What the heck? I'm sooooo not used to that word. Me, me, me, me, me. Repeat 50 times and maybe you'll remember just who exactly that is, Nancy. Crazy. It's been a long, long time since I've been able to actually hear the birds chirping outside or hear the hum of a lawn tractor off in the distance somewhere. Now, every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday afternoon, I can. It's strange. I'm not quite sure if I'm ready to call it "relaxing" yet, but today, just for a moment, I felt my pulse slow down a bit. And that hasn't happened for 3 years, 4 months, and 21 days. Not that I was counting...

Next generation of buds.

We went out to dinner with some old friends last night. They have 2 daughters, both are at least 3 years older than Zeke. It's funny to watch how older kids interact with toddlers. At first, it's just the whole "you're so uncool and little - I can't possibly hang with you" sitch. Then, after a while, when they realize they're going to be stuck with this kid for at least a few hours while their parents wine and dine, they make do and start to warm up to said toddler. That's exactly what happened last night. Our friends' girls played so well with Zeke at the restaurant (and yes, I literally mean "played", since we went to The Winner's Circle and it's UBER kid-friendly with the 10,432 arcade games there!). By the end of the night, when we gathered at our cars to say goodbye, all three kiddos were exchanging hugs and saying sad farewells. It's so cute to see them grow up together - especially since their fathers did the very same thing.

Dissed in a Malibu don't know what to do.

Today was the second official day of preschool for Zeke. When we woke up, Zeke asked me where Daddy was (as he usually does) and I answered "at work." Zeke then asked me if he had to go to school today. My heart did a little flip-flop. Would this be THE day? The day when all the craziness began? The day when my baby boy would really start to show his true emotions and tell me how much he didn't want to leave me, how much he wanted to just stay with me and do fun things with me??? I knew it was coming. I prepared for it. I was all ready to tell him it was ok to be nervous but that school was a safe, fun place where he'd make new friends and paint, color, play, and learn. I had all the lines down in my head, like a good, prepared Mommy should. But, something strange happened that threw a monkey wrench into my speech. When I told Zeke that yes, indeed, it was a school day, he simply said "ok." Even worse yet, when I asked him if he wanted me to draw our secret heart on his hand before we left for school (the secret heart is a green heart that I draw on his hand, kiss it, then close his hand. If he gets lonely at school and misses me, he kisses his hand and knows that I'm kissing him back..), he told me that he didn't need our secret heart because he could remember me in his head! Wanna' add insult to injury??? Ok, well, as we pulled up in car line for him to get out and go into his classroom, Teacher Mary took him out of his car seat and he immediately started chatting with her about drawing a pine tree - I NEVER EVEN GOT A GOODBYE!!!!

You see, today I realized that Zeke is different now. He's gotten a taste of the "big boy" world and I think he likes the flavor. He wants to branch out and meet the big new world of school. I just wish he wanted our green heart on his hand while he did it.

Where's my right hand man???

Education is not filling a pail but the lighting of a fire. ~William Butler Yeats

Today is Zeke's first real day of preschool. If you could see me now, you'd be horrified. I prepared for the worst and wore waterproof mascara today, but still...it's bad. I'm not a pretty crier. I get all red and blotchy, swollen and mucky. That's how I am right now. I dropped him off about 45 minutes ago and still..I'm upset. I know deep down that it's time. It's time to light that fire in Zeke's soul - let him go to learn more, explore more, and experience more. But I just wish I could be there with him every single moment to see how he takes it all in. If I could, I'd jump in his Spiderman backpack and peek out the pocket to see how it's all going. But, I can't, so I won't. In the meantime, I'll trust that he's in good hands. I'll trust that all of my research into exactly who I want introducing him to the world of education is fruitful. I can't promise though, that each time I drop him off in carline, that I won't shed some tears as I pull out of that parking lot. I miss my baby too, too much.

Can you repeat that please for those of us in the back that didn't hear it?

I needed some humor today and didn't think I'd find it anywhere. Most of my humor comes from Pauly and well, he's been in Newport, Rhode Island on a business trip, so "funny" has been on hold for a few days. Although, I have to say, Zeke is running a close second these days. Take for instance:

we're in the kitchen baking a cake to celebrate Pauly's return home tonight. In the background, the t.v. was on, but I didn't think Zeke was listening to it since we were busy chattering away about eggs and cake batter, etc. Well, as I was putting the cake in the oven, Zeke disappeared for a few minutes. In the living room, I heard a commercial on t.v. for the NuvaRing - which is some new form of birth control for any of you men out there who are asking "what's a NuvaRing and should I have gotten one for my wife for our last anniversary???" So, anyway, not a minute later, Zeke comes in singing the NuvaRing jingle and then proceeds to tell me that we should "Google NuvaRing." Holy moly. Top that one, Pauly.

That's the sweet smell of furry faces.

I'm not sure why I love animals so much. I'm not really one of those totally "outdoorsy" type of chicks...but the older I get, the more I realize that the world of animals is amazing. I'm finding that my love of dogs and horses, especially, is becoming more than just a passing fling. I think when I get ready to go back to work, I should seriously consider the fact that my passion may have drifted from the chem lab to the world of animals. I'm not quite sure how I can turn that into a career...but hey, you never know.

Check out my photos from our adventures today. We visited Ryerss Horse Farm where they house retired and abused horses. Ummmmm....what more can I say? Completely awesome.

That's gotta' hurt.

Labor Day weekend was laborious. We did tons of yard work. We pulled weeds, planted Mums, and Pauly patched the sinkhole by the swing set. But I managed to squeeze some fun into the days in between all the yucky stuff. On Saturday, we went out to the Ludwig's Corner Horse Show and Country Fair and had a ball. I just looooooove anything horsey, so I was giddy & giggly the whole time. Add to it the fact that we took a hayride (OMG, LOVE hayrides) around the entire fairgrounds, and I was loving life. I saw so many handsome horseys that I coveted....ooooooh, I was just in love. Pauly has 2 years and dwindling to get me my very own baby (horse baby, that is...). I've already told him, I don't want a 40th birthday bash...I just want a horse. No pressure there, huh?

So, now it's Tuesday and all is quiet on the home front. We played this morning with playgroup buddies and had fun. When we got home, Zeke started playing with a little caterpillar he dubbed his new best friend. Sorry to all the kiddos he's hung out with for the past 2.5 years....apparently your friendship isn't as strong as we all thought it was. Otto the Caterpillar has shimmied in and claimed your spot in Zeke's heart. And yes, you read that right - it's Otto the Caterpillar. If you have a really good memory, you'll remember we have a chi-chi named Otto. Guess Zeke just likes that name. Anyway, as he was playing with the caterpillar, he asked me why mustard was coming out of him. WWWWWWWWWWWHHHHHHHHHHHHHAAAAA? I knew immediately that Otto the Caterpillar was leaking guts all over my deck and kid. And mustardy-colored guts at that. I'm not sure I can Shout that out. Sorry Otto the Caterpillar, I'm more concerned about the stain than your leaking intestines.


P.S. out to Pauly: your birthday surprise for me was most unexpected but sooooo awesome! Who DOESN'T LOOOOOVE a masseuse showing up at their door for a ninety minute massage??? Oh my - how heavenly. And so is my hubby! You rock Pauly!

The car makes the canine.

We were driving into an adjacent neighborhood today to go to Pauly's favorite breakfast spot (you've got to check out the King Street Grille in Malvern - Randy makes the most decadent blueberry muffin french toast you'll ever hate to love, considering it's about two days worth of calories...), and while on our way, we came across this unbelievable sight. Look at this picture to the right - is it not a postcard???? First of all, I love the classic car. I'm a sucker for old cars since my brothers and father have a never ending love affair with classic Mustangs. Little known factoid: my very first car I ever drove was a 1967 Mustang. How coolio is that? Anyway, second cool thing about this picture is the two completely awesome doggies just hanging out in the car like the canine versions of James Dean. Soooooo incredible. I'm happy I convinced Pauly to stop the car and let me hop out to snap the photo. You can see a bigger version of this picture at the bottom of my blog - the detail makes all the difference. Amaaaaaazing.

Don't use this picture for your passport.

When I look back at old family pictures, I realize that my foolishness was caught on camera for all eternity - much to my parents' delight. Of course, they'll deny this and claim that the picture in question is "cute" or it was "appropriate for the time". I do believe that's a bunch of horse manure. It's called taking advantage of the situation, Mom and Dad. And now, I am happily at the helm, and well, I've got some revenge up my sleeve. Sorry, Zeke, you're an innocent pawn in this game and the next generation will feel your wrath.

Look to the right - here you will see what I call the "Boo Boo Picture". Zeke came to me today with big tears in his eyes. He had a tiny cut on his middle finger and needed a Spongebob bandaid. "Sure", I said, "but only after you hold your boo boo up for the camera..."

But it's MY birthday. I should get what I want.

Do you see that picture of the little blonde chihuahua on the right hand side of the screen over there? Well, I really want her. I want her badly. She's up for adoption on Petfinder.com right now. Pauly says no of course. I think it's only fair that I get her since it's MY BIRTHDAY, for God's sake. He thinks I'm getting like one of those old ladies that starts to collect cats or something. What's so wrong with that???

Wordless Wednesday.

As you know by now, Zeke has a "thing" for fashion. Or at least he thinks he does. He likes to accessorize. The latest? The green froggy boots. Apparently, they are seasonless, defy all weather conditions, and go with any outfit. Whatevs.

Pump the brakes, sister.

I just wanted to run my errands, get some groceries for the meal I was taking to a sick friend, then boogie on home and enjoy the ride while doing so. It didn't happen. As I was doing forty-five in a twenty-five, the unthinkable happened. Those darn red flashing lights, the ridiculously embarrassing high-pitched sirens - OMG, he was pulling ME over. What a sucky sitch. I had to juggle the iPod out of my lap, put down the cell phone, turn off Tom-Tom, and lower the volume on Zeke's dvd player all while fishing around for my driver's license. Didn't that copper know I was too BUSY to get a ticket today??? Jesus. Anyway, here's where all the right stuff clicked into place: I found my license and then...BONUS...I found my little Get Out Of Jail Free Card that my brother the piggy (cop) gave me a few years back in addition to the nice, big, fat, FOP symbol for my license plate. Yippity skippity. I handed it all over to the big daddy at my window, he smiled, asked where brother piggy worked, we chatted for a few minutes about brother piggy's job, then big daddy told me he was "happy to see that Zeke and I were buckled in safely" and to have a good day. GGGGGGGGGGGGGGGAAAAWAHAHAHAHAHAHHAAAAAAA! I was all smiley and happy and polite and ready to put on my little turn signal to leave when Zeke yelled from the back..."I TOLD MOMMY TO SLOW DOWN - SHE'S A DANGEROUS DRIVER!"

Thanks for diming me out, punk.

Mountain momma.

I got a little beach time in this weekend, but it wasn't salt water I was looking at. It was mountain lake water. I'll settle for that, even though I'm really a salt water babe at heart. I have to say, though, it was definitely a good little beach day even though we didn't have that salt water breeze and the funky smell of rotten shell fish. It was a beautiful day, the sand was clean and, well, sandy, and Zeke and Pauly had a great time splashing around in the lake with Mom Mom Cookie and Pop Pop. It was nice. And, for the first time in a long while, I saw Pauly sit back and close his eyes and maybe, just maybe....relax for about an hour. Now that's saying something. Life is short Pauly, ease up and smell the roses every once in a while!

Smell ya' later.

My mom reminded me the other day that I used to constantly ask her when Zeke would start talking. I worried all the time when he was a baby - was he ok, would he walk at the right age, would he get potty trained, would he ever know how to talk? Ter-Ter (my mom) would just roll her eyes and tell me it was coming. How very little did I know.

Fast-forward 3.3 years and Zeke is walking, talking, peeing & pooping on the big boy potty, and well, also proudly doing "bom-boms". Just what are bom-bom's and how do I know he's doing them, you ask? Well, the bom-bom goes back a few generations in my hubby's family (when in doubt with all the "strange" stuff that your kid does, blame it on the hubby's genes...) - it's basically just a..."fart" with a crazy alliteration-filled name. Ew, I know. But, aside from myself, everyone does bom-boms. Admit it. But what everyone doesn't do is announce their bom-bom's in the middle of the King of Prussia Mall or Boscov's. That kind of doesn't work for me. It does, however, work really well for Zeke. He'll deliver the bom-bom, then announce it proudly for all to hear. Tonight, it happened at Bertucci's. "Ah, hello sir, hope you enjoy some nice bom-bom with your pepperoni wood-fired pizza..." How completely embarrassing. Now, at least it takes a moment for Zeke's general audience to "get" what he's talking about. I mean, would *you* really know what he's talking about if he said "I DID A BOM-BOM"! and I scooted him away super quick??? Probably not. You would, however, know in a few seconds once your olfactory senses kicked in...