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.