Where's my patchouli when I need it?

Hey Shannon O:

Thanks for this cool new button - The Brighter Planet 350 Challenge: Fighting Climate Change. It's sweeto neato and I'm loving that it's focused on cleaning up our duuuuuuuuuurty little footprints on this earth! About a year ago, I wasn't even recycling - do you believe that??? I've repented and I'm on a mission now. I enjoy these days with my friends and family too much to see it all melting away. So, thanks Shanny (I'm diggin' that nickname now...), your blog is a bute!

I feel like an earthy lil' momma.

Wordless Wednesday

This is my mood after doing laundry all week. Thanks for being such a supermodel Simon. You sexy beast.

That's one quirky turkey.

Tag, I'm it. I've been tagged, which means that a few peeps out there want to know 6 quirky things about me. Lil' ol' me. Hmmm. What's quirky about my junk? Buckle up...here we go:

A. I won't go anywhere without a very big purse. I need my stuff. It's important that I have my stuff with me. I'm lost without my stuff and my big purse. If I define "stuff" it'll just bore you because the stuff consists mainly of crinkled tissues, crumpled up lists, makeup, gum, old/crappy cell phone, and various/sundry stolen pens.

B. Which brings me to my next point...I will steal pens any/everywhere I go. And I also feel it's my privilege to steal a pen when I go to the doctor or dentist. Here's why: if I must go and allow someone to poke/prod/question me regarding private matters of which I have no desire to rehash and discuss, I feel the least I should get out of the demeaning ordeal is a good pen.

C. I hate doctor's offices but yet I am obsessed with anything medical. I love watching surgery/gore shows and feel that I have missed my calling in life - I should be a medical examiner.

D. I love dental floss and feel that it is highly underrated. We need to teach our children to floss. Although, I must say, my dental hygienist, Mary, is the floss Nazi. She has carried the flossing philosophy to the extreme. She has crossed the line - my God, she flosses while watching Big Brother. That's just unethical. She loses her BB card for that b/c no true Big Brother fan would ever disrespect the hour like that.

E. I want to read more books but I can't. I don't have the patience. I want to, I try to, but I fail. Magazines are it for me - and I can't even commit to them - I rent them from the library.

F. I only use Dove soap. Always. The white kind. Don't even try to switch me to anything else fancy or expensive or French and perfumey. I can't go there. Lovin' my Dove.

G. This is like the Bonus Jonas, one little extra tidbit - you'll notice it now every time you see me: I'm never without a big, huge water bottle. It's like my purse sitch - gotta' have it. All day/all night. It's my woobie.

That's it. Nothing too crazy. Nothing you need to call the fuzz about. Maybe you don't really want to hang out with me anymore now that you've read some of these things, but hey, maybe now you'll floss. That's a good thing...

I'm gonna' stuff that chicken.

I'm on a mission today. And Susan L. would be proud of me. We used to take work breaks and discuss what we were going to make for din-din. Well, guess what Sooz...I'm not doing chicken in the crock. I'm gettin' all fancy-schmancy. I'm pullin' out the big guns and opening up a bag of SUN DRIED TOMATOES! Yep, you heard that right. Sun dried tomatoes. And fresh parsley and garlic and gruyere cheese. It's gonna' be some amaaaaazing chicken over here tonight (for once). I'm motivated and I have my eye on the ball (or breast, I guess). I'm gonna' chop, mix, and then stuff those chicken breasts...then bake until it smells like Mary T. is in da' HOWSE (mary t. is my momsy for all of you not in the know..). I guess this sudden surge of domesticity has hit because I haven't seen the inside of my kitchen in a while. And I've also watched my men eat junk, junk, and more junk - which in turn makes me feel like a complete zero. It's Monday folks, and this zero is going all hero. My Monday night chicken is gonna rock...I'll try to take photos. :)

Long Time, No Bloggy

Yaaaaaaaaaaaaawn. Hear that? That's the sound of the sand falling out of my hair, fingernails, and other unmentionable places. And I'm not happy about it. If I had my way, I'd have sandy crevices from now until Halloweenie. I'd legally change my name to Sandy Trunks (word up, Pauly!) if it would buy me more time at the beach. But, well, it all ain't happenin' and I'm back here at home getting reacquainted with my rusty blog. I had all intentions of gettin' bloggy with it while we were vacationing, but the salt air intoxicated me and I got a case of the lazies. I have found out something about myself that I never, ever knew. I like to be lazy. I like doing nothing and being responsible for nada. You see, I'm not good at chilling out. I'm always on the go, always feeling like there's soooo much to be accomplished and so little time. I'm always TELLING people to smell the roses, but I'm the one always planting, watering, fertilizing and pruning them. As Zeke would say "not good." But after this vacation, I've found a new side of me. Lazy. And I'm going to try to cultivate that side - Lazy is the new Industrious. That should be a t shirt...

Getting a little more real tho, vacation was fun. As you can tell, it was relaxation maximization. It went something like this: wakey-wakey-cornflakey, hit the beach, walk 20 steps back to the house for lunch, walk 20 steps back to the beach after lunch, trudge ("trudge" this time b/c we're now carrying 55 lbs. of beach gear, of which 20 lbs. was actually used...) back to the house for post beach workout (p.b. workout = snacks, drinks, shower, laying on deck, gathering troops for evening festivities), then off to nighttime funfests. Repeat the above about 6 times and voila!, there's our vacation. Perfecto. Zeke had a ball - he had his cousins to play with all week plus he hung with Mom Mom Mare and Poppy a bit, so life was A+ in his book. Pauly and I got to sneak away twice for some Cape May dinners and strolls - woo hoo! All in all, a great time was had by all. Am I ready for the real world? No. But, it has smacked me in the face in the form of a laundry pile 6 feet high.

Gotta go - I've got a date with the washer and dryer. For the next 3 days. In between loads I'll hold down the blog so keep reading...

Thursday Thirteen? Ok, here I go.

I love this Thursday Thirteen thingy, since today has been all about chores and not much else. Sorry Zekey-poo. I'll make it up to you next week and we'll have a really rockin' good time. So, Jenn over at http://www.thebestisyetunwritten.blogspot/ wants to see my favorite 13 pix...


Here we go:

1. Zeke on a swing during his 3rd birthday photo shoot with MicDuff Photography.

2. Again, 3rd birthday photo shoot, MicDuff Photography

3. Ditto.

4. Pauly feeding Zeke for the first time. OMG, love this one.

5. Meat feet. Yes, these were my feet for the last few months of my pregnancy. I couldn't walk to the top of my driveway to get the mail. Ew.

6. My beloved chihuahua Simon. He bites everyone but is in love with Pauly and me. We're in his very small circle of friends and that's ok with us. Love him to little tiny pieces.

7. Zeke's crew chillin' on Ronnie's deck at a popcicle play date. This to me defines summer.

8. Again, Zeke and his crew chillin' in Alexander's hammock. Lilly is moving in on Zeke while Gracie plays it cool (she knows her daddy will NOT be happy...).

9. Another 3rd birthday photo shoot pic.

10. Alex and Zeke at the Elmwood Park Zoo back in May.

11. Pauly and Zeke celebrating Zeke's 2nd birthday.

12. Zeke's annual visit to the Pumpkin Patch in October 2007

So many memories, so much of my life, so much fun...

.

(my first) Wordless Wednesday...

hmmmm...i've never been wordless...even when i have a migraine. but here it is. as wordless as i get. soooooo headachey today. ew. p.s. - that's not me. i didn't blowdry my hair today. and my highlights don't look like that. i'm more lowlighted than highlighted.

Is this microphone on???

So today I received my first award. I was so psyched. I went and bought a little Armani number that luckily fit like a charm, had my hair and nails done last minute, squeezed in a Swedish massage that worked wonders, and got a facial and botox to freshen up for the undoubtedly crazed crew of paparazzi that would be mobbing me as soon as I emerged from my limo. ................ I waited. And waited. It was when I was tapping my shiny new manicure on the windowsill that it dawned on me. OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOH....this is a cyberaward! aaaaaaaaaaahahahahahahahahahahaaaaa. I get it. Duh. Yeah. I knew that all along. I just wanted to look good for the Wednesday night chicken and rice we were having....

So there it is. The award. Right up top there. It's pretty isn't it? I've always loved angels so it's doubly cool. There are some rules that go with receiving it, so here they go:

You have to pick 5 blogs that you think deserve this award for their creativity, design, interesting material, and also for contributing to the blogging community, no matter what language.

Each award has to have the name of the author and also a link to his or her blog to be visited by everyone.

Each award winner has to show the award and put the name and link to the blog that has given

her or him the award itself.

The award-winner and the one who has given the prize must show the link of the “Arte y Pico” blog, so everyone will know the origin of this award. http://arteypico.blogspot.com/

With that said, here are my five recipients...

1. http://thefoxandthecrow.blogspot.com/ - Missy (Christa) writes like a true scholar b/c she is one! Love her 4-eva!!!

2. http://thewrightladies.blogspot.com/ - Yvonne's blog has such great writing!

3. http://stinkyjohnjones.typepad.com/my_weblog/ - Val has a chunky Chi-chi, and that makes her a cool chicky. Not to mention, her blog is called Stinky John Jones and so many nights I now call Zeke "stinky john jones" when I'm trying to get him in the tub...

4. http://butwaititgetsbetter.blogspot.com/ - Jennifer's blog is soooo pretty! I want her to get my blog all pretty and flowery tooooooo!

5. http://tuttlefamilyadventures.blogspot.com/ - Mel's page is great. Really professional and well-written. Love it!

So, you've been awarded girls! Go shopping, get your nails/hair done, get massages, and get botoxed. It's time for chicken and rice...

THANKS KELLY AT http://arainbowaftertherain.blogspot.com/ - I LOVE MY AWARD!!!

Love, Nancy

That's no baby carrot you're gnawing...

We had a nice time today - very informative and eye-opening when it came to nutritional stuff, so it was great. Jaime hosted a playdate and invited her friend Denise who is also a nutritionist. Denise talked to us about the foods we serve our kiddos (and ourselves!) and reviewed the basic vitamins we should all be concerned with in our daily lives. I was horrified when I mentally took stock of my pantry and cabinets in the kitchen. I swear, after vacation (it's always "after something", isn't it?), I'm revamping our entire diet in this household. Trader Joe's will be loving me, that's for sure. I'm in the mood for a change and I have my cross hairs set on our eating habits. Pauly WILL NOT be happy. Sorry PJK.

Jaime had a nice variety of snackies on her table for us to munch on while Denise spoke: her homemade salsa (so pretty and yummy!) & a great, fresh veggie tray with nice peppers, grape tomatoes, cukes, and baby carrots. Why am I so crazed over Jaime's crudite, you ask? Well, maybe it's because my son mistook Michael's poor little finger for a baby carrot at one point during the play date. (At least that's what I'm going to say from now on after this confessional/blog is over.) Let me set the scene for anyone out there in cybercity who's curious as to how/why this happened: we're all sitting there listening to Denise. It's intense because we're learning about how completely gnarly the milk industry is (which is doubly skeevy for me since Zeke drinks about 1/2 gallon a day) when out of the blue we hear an insane noise coming from the dining room that can only be described as illegal. Like, illegal in the sense that OSHA would NOT allow noise at that decibel level to ever be piped into human eardrums - under any circumstances. We jumped up and what do I see? Zeke standing DIRECTLY next to the child who is crying tears of pain. I'm thinking "I know what's next". I asked Zeke what happened and he told me "I bit Michael". Ok, now, I KNOW in my mind he didn't think Michael's finger was a baby carrot, but in my heart??? In my heart, I want my sweet, kind, angelic baby to tell me that he really, really, really thought that little finger was a tender baby carrot. You know the kind - fresh out of the bag, a little moist, just asking to be chomped. But, no. Nope. Not at all. Zeke just simply said he bit Michael's finger because he wanted the toy that Michael had. Why didn't he just TRY to cover his tracks? I wouldn't have pulled out my CSI kit and tested the bite wound on the finger. I wouldn't have even submitted saliva samples. I WOULD HAVE TAKEN HIS WORD FOR IT!!! Not played very well Zeke. You'd make a lousy poker player.

I guess when it's all said and done, there's nothing left to say or do. That's a famous saying by my all-knowing Dad. When I hear it, it rings so true. I apologized, offered Neosporin and super-cool Band-aids, but, well, I couldn't take the bite away as much as I would have liked to. I know these things happen and boys will be boys, but next time, Zeke, let's stick with the baby carrots.

Time for some slides..

Not even close.

Today was a super fun Monday. Usually Mondays aren't fundays..but today was. Thanks to Sarah a.k.a. Dora the Explorer. Here's the dealio: Sarah hosted an out-of-this-stratosphere, wicked cool play date where all the kiddos hiked through the "jungle" (actually the woods at the end of Sarah's cul-de-sac) and searched for strategically placed Dora-esque goodies. It began with the big discovery of a heaping pile of jungle hats that Steve Irwin(R.I.P. Croc Hunter!) would have loved. As they cruised the jungle, more and more goodies were found. It was so cool. After the long trek back (and it seemed super long to me since I was carrying the mega-heavy extra large bag of bananas that Swiper never swiped out of one of the trees...), we arrived at Sarah and Viv's house only to see that, gulp!, holy moly....DORA THE EXPLORER was waiting for us!!! Now, it seemed strange that Sarah had mysteriously gone missing AND that Dora's voice sounded a WHOLE lot like Sarah's, but, I let it go. Anyway, the kids loved it. They hugged her, got pix taken with her, and mostly just stared in amazement. It was really, really cute. After a bit, Dora bid her farewells, and funny enough, Sarah showed back up a minute or two later (seemed like just enough time to, say, slip out of a Dora costume??). We all had pizza and some playtime and headed home with what I thought would be a head full of Dora memories. Ummmmm, I was wrong. Later in the day, as I was cleaning the kitchen and Zeke was having a snack, I asked him if he had a great time at his play date. He said he did. I asked him who was his favorite visitor. He said "Brady." He meant Brayden. I asked him who else. He said "Jude." Jude was in bed the whole play date. I asked him who else. He said "Alexander." Well, yeah, that's a typical answer. WHO ELLLLLSE???? He said "you Mommy, you're my best friend."

Sorry Dora. You really rocked my world today and actually I think you rocked Zeke's too. But I'm still his best friend. Don't swipe him, ok?

P.S. Out to Shannon M.

I really hope your day got better on Friday...you guys get the award for Best Use of a Croc. Nothing worse than a poopie Croc. ;)

Yawning for more.

Saturday we played at home. And played and played. And played. Then we went and bought sand for Zeke's sandbox. And played some more. We filled up his little pool and he played in that. And played and played. The King (Otto the chihuahua) was with us for a bit, but then decided a nappy was much more in order. So he napped. WHY couldn't we nap too? Why can't we nap everyday...like normal human beings? Naps are nice. Naps are refreshing. There are entire cultures built around naptimes and I bet you they are much more productive and happier people for it. Not our household. We don't nap. We haven't napped since shortly after blowing out Zeke's first birthday candle. Now, let me just put this out there: I WOULD NAP. Happily. I'd nap for a good hour or two - give me a nice fan blowing, my pups cozying up with me, and I'd be snoozing the afternoon away. But somewhere along the way, Zeke lost respect for the sacredness of the nap. He thinks he'll miss something. I think he thinks secret parades roll down the street during naptime strictly for those who are man enough to stay up during naptime. He thinks clowns and jugglers do their "thang" for the non-nappers, the cotton candy is fresher and bigger for non-nappers, and party bags are actually dispersed for anyone who is big enough, strong enough and well, AWAKE enough to skip naps. Zeke, buddy, it's not true. As a matter of fact, I'd do all that for you if you WOULD nap. Just 45 minutes. Just a trial-nap. A mini-nap. A nippy-nap, perhaps? I know, I know, he won't do it. But I guess I can dream in my sleepy midafternoon slump, huh? Someone pass me a strong cup of tea, please...

Gone daddy gone.

The past few days have been tough. Pauly was out of town on a business trip and I was alone with Zeke and my chi-chi pups. Our whole household goes into a depression when daddy goes out of town, so we try to schedule as many activities as possible and keep busy. I guess that's why I haven't bloggity-blog-blogged in a few days. Sorry all you in cyber land who have been anxiously awaiting the lastest and greatest. Hey "60 Cent", have you been missing your daily dose of us??? Hee hee, you thought I forgot, huh??? You should know me better than that...

On to the good stuff. We've played a lot this week with playgroup friends and I've noticed that the nest was feeling empty in more ways than one. Pauly was gone, yeah, but Zeke was also cozying up to a few too many hotsy totsy Chester County Playgroup Babes, if you ask me. I have 2 problems with this sitch: 1. if it WERE ok with me that he started dating at 3 years old, I'd make it a ground rule that he choose which little mama he was going to hang with and be done with it. I'll have no gigolo in my household, thank you! And secondly, he's MY baby, you CCP babes! Yes, you may be super cute with your big eyes and cutesy-wootsy hairdo's...but can you really handle the wrath of a 3 year old BOY??? More importantly, the Wrath of Zeke? Well, can you??? Yeah, I didn't think so. Listen, here's my advice to you: stay 3. It's nice. It's innocent. And it's fun. And yeah, you can steal a smooch from my Zekey-poo every now and then, but guess what sweet-cheeks, he's still goin' home with me... :)

Wordless Wednesday? I Wish.

I've seen many mommy bloggers title their Wednesday posts "Wordless Wednesday" and just pin a cute picture or two. That's nice. I guess it means they had a quiet day, laundry got done or the junk drawer got straightened out while Bobby and Janey went to camp for a few hours then came home and watched t.v. and ate P.B. & J's. In my mind, I'm jealous of that idyllic day. My Wednesday was not wordless. It was wordfullllll. Emphasis HIGHLY on fullllll. Now, I'm not sure if Zeke's brain is in a growth spurt and needs continuous, constant, incessant, in-his-face FEEDBACK all freakin' day long...but it sure seems to be the case these past two days. I can't answer his questions fast enough. I literally get the last word out of my mouth to the first question, when, BAM!, questions two and three are laid into me like heat seeking missiles. It's brutal. I consistently remind myself that during his waking hours, I am "at work" - it is within my current job description to grow this brain of his, to make it function to the best of it's capability, and to fire back each and every answer it seeks. Stupid me though...and I've done this before with other contracts...I DID NOT READ THE FINE PRINT. If I had read that fine print on the bottom of the parenthood contractual agreement when I signed it, I would have realized that in section 3, part B, paragraph 2, it explains that with my signature I agree to yes, guide my child's brain along healthy and steady progress...but in the meantime allow my own to turn into rice pudding.

Pauly always told me to read the fine print. I guess I should listen to him sometimes.

Slips, trips, and falls.

Sometimes I wonder if I'm doing it all ok. When I bring him into a restaurant and he can't manage to sit still for even 3 minutes to put a ravioli on a fork, chew it and swallow it, I worry. I was ok with all of that when he was 18 months old. I was ok with it when he was 2. I made excuses for it when he was "going on 3." Mentally, the cutoff was 3 years old. He's 2 months and change past 3. He didn't sit still today. And it wasn't good. I'm NOT going into details. I just won't. But take my word for it...he was the King of Crapville today. Just a bad day. He's asleep now and somehow when he's lightly snoring and looking so peaceful, his potential for being the Mayor of Magnificence tomorrow all comes rushing back in. Funny how that happens, huh?

Words of Wisdom to Pauly

GWBD...you know it, budddddyyyyy!!!

We love you!

Tennis Anyone?

Zeke loves going to the Tennis Center. Poppy works there and it's not only a huge tennis center, but a fully loaded gym. So, Zeke gets to hang with Poppy, hit tennis balls around, and then, his very favorite, pump iron while inspecting his form in huge walls covered in mirrors. He's a gym rat at 3 years old. Now, I believe in exercising...in moderation. Too much of a stinky, sweaty meat-heady gym shrinks the brain and expands the biceps too darn much. It all needs to be kept in perspective. I'm afraid tho, that Zeke loves the clanging of the weights, the challenge of trying to lift his own body weight in iron, and the giggling masses that tend to gather when they see a little monkey like him huffing and puffing. Showboat. Today he got his wish when we made the trek to the Tennis Center and said hi to Poppy. He whacked the tennis balls (and threw the racket every time he missed...), checked out the equipment, and more importantly, his form in the massive mirrors. He loved it. It wasn't Great Adventure or Dorney Park or even a trip to the shore, but my oh my, to him, it was an iron Disney Land. I guess when I'm planning our next big adventure, I should keep the local Gold's in mind...

Excuse me sir, you've grown a second head.

I finally feel like I had a REAL 4th of July. I can move on with my summer. Yesterday was exactly as it should have been *except* for the fact that I didn't succeed in convincing Mom Mom Mare, Poppy, Aunt Barbie, and Uncle Fran to drive the measly 15 extra miles from Poppy's house to Nottingham Park for the Off-The-Hook-Way-Better-Than-Crapadelphia's fireworks show. And as for you Terry and Mario...sitting in the Wawa parking lot watching fireworks on the 4th???? Absolutely not. You missed out on one entire sensory experience, my friends - the feeling of being eaten alive (or at least being used as a landing/launching pad) for the state's largest moths. And well, Uncle T and Aunt Susan, poo to you for leaving early. Even my 3 year partied on the 4th (which was actually the 5th) until it became the 5th (which was actually the 6th). Did everyone follow that? Let's just say he was up well past midnight. But that was ok with me, because once a year, the 5 senses click into overload and it's just not to be missed. It all starts with a smoky barbecue grill puffing it's plumes your way while your belly tells you it's time for a burger (or a chicken strip in my case). Then you taste the fresh fruits of summer, the charcoaled yumminess of the grill, the sweet desserts everyone made which you get to sample - it's all just summer yumminess. Once you're full and can't even think of pulling yourself off of the chair, it's time to lasso that second wind, make a potty run ('cause people the potty sitch at Nottingham is sad, sad, sad...Johnny-On-The-Spot, need I say more?) and load up the car with the essentials. You need beach chairs, blankets, water bottles, and, now here's the critical item needed and you may want to get a pencil and paper - I'll wait.............. Ok. BUG SPRAY. And preferably, industrial-strength, Sam's Club-size. It's just what you'll need. Now, I know you're probably thinking the same thing I am: is that stuff really safe? I think it ALL the time. I barely ever use it because every time I'm about to apply it to myself or to Zeke or to Pauly, I think "ummmm, if this will kill the Peruvian Blacktailed Willowwasp, then maybe it's not so good for my spleen". I usually opt out of the bug spray, live with the occasional hive from the bug bite and go with a sip of Benadryl if the itch gets uncomfortable. My liver thanks me in the morning. But fireworks at Nottingham...well you're dealing with the pros when you go there. The bugs meet all year long, monthly at least, and they talk. They gather information, graphs and pie charts. They KNOW how many of us are coming to their little fireworks display and they disperse their armies accordingly. Last night was no exception. The brigade was out and ready for battle. Some were actually beautiful. But, still, they were of the bug-kind, so they're not my friends. I rule by the "no-kill" policy as much as possible, but let's just say I'm not having the multi-legged over for lunch anytime soon. They know this and I think they secretly harbor hurt feelings over it. They want to know why we humans shoo shoo them. They'll never know and this 4th of July shing-ding is their BIG chance to get back at us. Last night they swarmed, they bombed, and some just sat on shoulders. They even....jumped in my hair. Gasp. What a nightmare. It was mostly moths. Crazy big ones. At one point as we were standing in line to get on the shuttle bus, I did a double take. I couldn't believe my eyes. I saw a man, about 5 people in front of me with a HUGE white moth perched on his cheek. It was so big. I mean, so big that I can't believe he didn't feel it. I picked Zeke up and pointed it out to him and he just took a deep breath and said "wow!" It was like he was witnessing the man growing a second head. It was just amazing. I wanted to tap the man on the back and explain that he was, as we spoke, growing another cranium, but, well, I just didn't feel that I knew him well enough. And, to be quite honest, watching it was a close runner up to the awesomely sweet fireworks we had just witnessed. Nottingham Park fireworks rock. And those moths, well, they're a force to be reckoned with. Let's see what they're battle plan is next year.

Mick the jip.

Today was supposed to be great - it's the Fourth of July. I wanted sunshine above my head, sand beneath my toes, and fireworks when the sun went down. Instead I got Mick the Jip. Who's Mick? Mick is the $49.00 stuffed monkey that Zeke made at Build-A-Bear in the King of Prussia Mall. Mick does not walk, talk, sing a good song, or do my laundry. Mick doesn't even really *sound* like a monkey...even though we spent the extra $4.50 to add in the monkey voice box. *sigh* Mick was a jip. But, we HAD to go to the mall because it rained on the 4th of July. We had plans, people, plans to have fun in the sun and take good pictures and eat good food. But, no, instead we walked around a crowded, over sized mall and made Mick. If I over think Mick, I'll get a stomachache. I passed by the MAC store - do you know what I could have DONE with $49 in MAC??? Oh, and Lord & Taylor was having their Clinique Bonus Days today - I ONLY NEEDED TO SPEND $25 TO GET MY BONUS!!! Mick is dangerously close to TWO Clinique bonuses. And I CANNOT apply Mick under my eyes and make them look 10 years younger the way Clinique's Anti-Gravity Firming Eye Lift can. How agitating. I guess I'll just have to live with the fact that my $49 bought an experience - it put a smile on Zeke's face for a few minutes while we brought Mick to life and gave him an identity. Mick's here to stay, the $49 is gone. With that I'll have to live. But I do NOT have to live with wrinkles under my eyes. I'm going back to Lord & Taylor - Zeke can bring Mick if he wants, but I'm on my own mission this time.

Didn't your mother teach you any manners?

Many Thursdays we jump in the car and drive down to see Mom Mom Mare and Poppy. Zeke enjoys it and we always end up on some excursion given the fact that Poppy has the "ants in the pants" syndrome, just like I do. I guess I have tons of his DNA streaming thru my veins. Today was no exception. In Quarryville, about 20 miles from Poppy's house, there was a children's traveling circus in town, so off we went. Where's Quarryville you ask? Huh. It's 35 miles south of nowhere, my friend. It's where cows say "baaaaaah" and sheep walk upright. It's quite frankly, where a llama, get a load of this, spit in MY MOTHER'S face. For real. The llama spit in my mom's face. Now, I have to admit, as a teenager, I imagined doing just that, but only a few times (sorry mom...). GOD KNOWS, I never got up the nerve to really do it. I wanted to live to see my twenties. But yeah, this llama, who never even met my mom, spit on her. What tha'??? Just who *was* this llama from Quarryville and who did she think she was??? It was quick, but it was to the point. It was a "get out of here" type of spit. Crazy. And not unlike the rest of the circus-like surroundings we had entered. But... Zeke got to ride a camel (I'VE never ridden a camel...have you??), he scratched many a goat head, and he rode a pony with a wobbly saddle. He loved it and didn't even notice the strangeness of the place and people. Funny how kids are like that - everyone and everything is on an even playing field when you start out in life. You've only got 7 teeth in your head??? That's cool. At least you can still chew a SMALL piece of Hubba Bubba! Here's half of mine! Oh, your hair's all greasy and stinky?? Lucky you - YOUR mom didn't make YOU take a bath for the past 3 days! I learned a tidbit today now that I look back...sometimes kids see the picture much more clearly than we all think they do. Oh, and also, llamas spit on mamas. It's just their thing.

Wacky Wednesday

Wow. Where to start with today's nuttiness. It was...bananas..B-A-N-A-N-A-S (just like the Stefani, song, peeps, if you know what I mean...). It started out like super summer fun - a morning movie for a buck - now how can you beat that? And with Tarsia and her cherubs to boot! What the heckio? Loving it more. We went to see The Waterhorse (horse, did you say horse - I'm so in..), so immediately T and I thought Zeke may be completely lost in the shuffle. I decided to give it a go and try it. He lasted for a while - the half hour before the movie started, then about an hour into the show. Props to him for going that long - I think he was more interested in hanging with the kiddos than The Waterhorse, but whatevs, it was superfun. When we left the theater, he FFFFRRREEEEEEEAKED. I guess jumping up and down in the theater seat was fun for him - NOT so fun for the 5 year old behind him trying to see if Waterhorse got back to the sea. See?

On the way home, I decided to stop by a local horse farm to check on the status of my scheduled riding lessons. As I was drooling over some quarterhorses, Zeke was checking out an old rotten log. Just so happens, the log contained a wasp's nest. Before I knew it, he was doubled over screaming in pain with 1,765,329 wasps buzzing around him like he was lunch. I darted over and shooed them away, but not before he was stung twice BETWEEN THE EYES! As you know, I'm not good in emergencies. My throat collapses like an excited chihuahua's. And collapse it did. I could barely speak on the phone as I dialed our pediatrician while doing 90 m.p.h on the winding roads home. Thank God the nurses talked me down, told me what to do, and I got the much needed Benadryl into Zeke quickly. He's fine now, but still swollen. The bees who used to be his friends who "made honey" are now bad guys. Welcome to the real world, Zeke. Sometimes it stings. I just hope I'm always there to apply the icepacks. :(

Slideshow pix courtesy of Micduff Photography.

Sexy Simon

My sweet Timmy..

King Otto

Pick on someone your own size, gramps.

Today was a fun day. I'll blog more about it after I vent. I've just got to vent first. Get all negative energy out, then onto the good stuff. So, on our way home from the "good stuff", I told Zeke we could stop by CVS to get new gum. He loves gum now and knows how to chew it like a big boy. I've also found that kid's gum is awesome - why did I ever STOP Hubba Bubba/Bubble Yum??? It rocks. Anyway, we went into CVS for the gum run, got the goods, and got in line to pay. Well, Zeke was carrying his own basket - ya' know, one of those little baskets you get when you don't really need a cart, but don't want to carry everything in your arms. Well, it was empty, so while we were in line waiting to pay for the chewy goodness, Zeke put it on the floor and sat in it like it was a car. There was an old man in front of us haggling with the cashier about the price of his cough drops. It was getting ugly, so the cashier told him to follow her to the aisle and she'd show him the sign to prove her point. As he turned around, he saw Zeke sitting on the floor in the basket, which I suppose happened to be in the path he wanted to take, so he said "you're in a bad spot, boy. Where's your damn mother?" UMMMMMM.....WHA??????? Blood pressure rising here people....high, high, high. He DIDN'T just A) call my son "boy", B) use an expletive AT my child, and C) address him AT all. Now, I *try* very hard in situations like these to remain composed. This man has not had contact with a toddler in 132 years and well, he just doesn't understand the sheer necessity of the basket being turned into a pretend car while waiting in line at CVS. You'd have to be a mom to understand that. I get it. What I don't get mostly is his ignorance, his lack of respect, and his arrogance. I was ready, everyone, ready for battle. I've gone to battle once before in this type of situation at the Ardmore Farmer's Market- it wasn't good. So, what did I say here, in the checkout aisle at CVS? Of course I said something - can't leave Zeke sitting in his "car" feeling like the victim of a drive-by now, can I? Nope. Mama Bear said: "oh, sir, he doesn't have a mom, he's an orphan." Old, Crusty Man's mouth dropped as he walked away. Hee hee. Go pick on someone your own size, crapbird.

Yep, I feel better now. Bad energy out, good day energy back in. Before the CVS junque, we had a great day. T-shirt painting playdates are *the* best, I tell you. Who knew??? Shannon has the coolest ideas - why can't I be more creative like her? She rocks. So, all the kids hung in her backyard, filled up water guns with t-shirt paint, and squirted their t-shirts until they were rainbow-alicious! Zeke's is awesome and I think I'll just put it away as a keepsake instead of risking the inevitable chocolate milk/cherry juice stain. It's too special for everyday wear 'n tear. After they painted, they jumped in the pools and sprinklers to wash off - you'll see a picture of Zeke and Caleb all bundled up in towels taking a much needed break. Playing and painting is hard work, ya' know! Fun in the sun, once again today. Wish summer would last much longer than it does...