Pass the kleenex.

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

I want my baby back.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

My life in pictures.

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

Baby bird.

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

Celebrate that, MJ.

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

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

Homefront.

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

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

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

Get down with the science.

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

This just in...

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

That's goodness.

Random thoughts about some things I like at the moment:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Sandbox shennanigans.

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

Argh.

No habla manual labor.

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

Mortality strike.

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

England scoop.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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


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

Am I reading her the wrong way???

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

It's my day....yeah.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Potty like a rockstar.

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

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

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

Gray matter gone.

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

Ew.

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

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


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

We were on vacation? What vacation?

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

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

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

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

Gotta run, gotta work.

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

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

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

Here's to a productive week...

Eleven, Baby!!!!

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

Egg Dyeing at it's Finest

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

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

No hunting allowed.

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

And how was your day?

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

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

F-f-f-fooolin.

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

Happy Birthday Mom!!! You little April Fool!

Down with the sickness.

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

Green around the gills.

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

Vomitus Maximus

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

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

Rolling down the highway, veggies under my seat.

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

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

Strange but true. But why?

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

Add to the Bizarro List:

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

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

Seems like yesterday.

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

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

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

Get the bird and run.

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

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

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

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

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

I wonder if Pauly knows yet...

Something happened along the way.

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

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

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

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

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

Lovin' Valentine's Day...

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

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

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

The Game

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Clothing optional.

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

Happy birthday, please pass the tissues.

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

Monster urge to giggle.

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

Frosty frolics.

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

You don't know the half of it sonny.

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

Ew.

Some things I don't like at the moment:

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

That's it. Nothing else for now.

Mommy nose best.

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

Ch-ch-ch-changes.

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

It's not easy being green.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Life lessons.

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

Mindwarping

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

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

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

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

G'night peeps.

Getting back to busines.

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

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

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

Obsession - Denied.

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

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

2009 - The Year of The King

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

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

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

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

You no likey???

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