Down with the sickness.

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

Green around the gills.

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

Vomitus Maximus

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

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

Rolling down the highway, veggies under my seat.

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

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

Strange but true. But why?

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

Add to the Bizarro List:

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

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

Seems like yesterday.

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

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

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

Get the bird and run.

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

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

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

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

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

I wonder if Pauly knows yet...

Something happened along the way.

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

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

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

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

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

Lovin' Valentine's Day...

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

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

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

The Game

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Clothing optional.

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

Happy birthday, please pass the tissues.

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

Monster urge to giggle.

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

Frosty frolics.

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

You don't know the half of it sonny.

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

Ew.

Some things I don't like at the moment:

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

That's it. Nothing else for now.

Mommy nose best.

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

Ch-ch-ch-changes.

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

It's not easy being green.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Life lessons.

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

Mindwarping

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

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

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

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

G'night peeps.

Getting back to busines.

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

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

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

Obsession - Denied.

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

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

2009 - The Year of The King

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

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

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

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

You no likey???

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

Icks nay on the ookies-cay.

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

Hope your Christmas is magical too.

And that's just your TOP TEN???

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



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



2. a digital camera



3. a scooter



4. Nintendo DS



5. Wii



6. a Thomas the Tank Engine dvd



7. a real drumset with 2 simples (cymbals)



8. a pogo stick



9. a skateboard



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





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



1. GPS = ~$300



2. digital camera = ~$200



3. scooter = ~ $50



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



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



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



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



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



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



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



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

Hey Pop Pop E!

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

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

Love, Zeke

We interrupt this broadcast...

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

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

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

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

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

Hey, how'd you get that black eye?

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

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

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

Good boy gone bad.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Hey Pop Pop E!!!!!

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

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

And even some foxy soxies.

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

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

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

Eye feel yucky.

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

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

Diners are for 4 pm breakfasts, dummy.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I'll take the white meat.

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

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

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

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

'Snow way I'm liking this.

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

Christmas is coming...

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

You'll get coal and like it.

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

And you thought Snickers were nutty...

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

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