Drunk Dialing

I could write today about how the 'lil man has yet another dose of a tummy bug (or maybe its just another recurrence of the original one), but I won't...... missing another day of work and then being puked on several times during the day and spending most of the night saying "Oh Honey, I know" or "It's okay buddy" gets boring after a while.

Instead, I decided to write about my dear husband..... and his closest friend. The Big Dubya has blogged quite a bit about his youth..... he wasn't really a bad kid -- but he saw his fair share of mischief. And like every Beaver Cleaver.... he had 40.... his family's own personal Eddie Haskell. The difference between Dubya and 40 is that Dubya's grown up (well, sorta) and 40 is still living the rockstar life.

This brings us to 1:30 this morning.... the Big Dubya was sleeping soundly in our cozy king-size bed..... I was on the couch with the 'lil Dubya begging and praying for him to go to sleep, all the while thinking to myself that 4:45 was going to come much to quickly if we didn't get at least a little sleep..... and then the Big Dubya's cell phone rings..... not just any ring, the Darth Vader theme music from Star Wars (I did say he was only sorta grown up). I jumped up, but I didn't get there in time.... I looked down and was overcome with a sense of rage. My first instinct was to take the phone upstairs and pelt the Big Dubya in his sleepy noggin with it and to shriek "Somebody ought to tell 40 that we have a baby!" but, I didn't. I got myself and the 'lil guy settled back onto the couch..... and then I started to feel guilty. Geee..... what if it's an emergency.... what if somebody died......

When I went upstairs this morning, I let the Big Dubya know that there was a call from 40 and that I hadn't answered it. The Big Dubya went to check it out and then came back and said..... um, yeah, you are glad you didn't answer it.

Apparently, 40 was in a bar in Florida ..... Florida, did we know he was going to Florida? No, we didn't.... He met a girl and she wanted to know who sings that song, I Just Died in Your Arms Tonight...... so, 40 was calling his very own human encyclopedia..... the fountain of useless information that is my husband to find out.... he does this a lot, apparently the bimbo set finds this phone-a-friend thing impressive.

As the Big Dubya was leaving for work, I asked -- by the way.... who sings it.... and he responded with a grin....Cutting Crew

First Sign of Spring.....

Some people look to some little groundhog to indicate how long 'til spring.... not us in the Dubya house.... NOOOOOO WAAAAYYYYY..... We judge the distance 'til spring by the opening of our favorit summer hotspot.........

Despite the low temperature (a balmy 19 degrees here in CT!!) and the snow flurries flying around, 0ur local Dairy Queen was open yesterday..... soon the birds will be back and the flowers will be singing.

Actual Conversation in the Dubya Household

Me (to 'lil Dubya): Buddy, you stink!
Mr Big Dubya: Whatcha doin'? changing his diaper?
Me: Yeah
Mr Big Dubya: How's it look?
Me: Thick & Chunky
Mr Big Dubya: And the rash?
Me: Much, much better
Mr Big Dubya: YIIIPPPEEEEE!

Your Tax Dollars Hard at Work

A University Studay found that banging your head against a wall uses 150 calories an hour

Hmmmm, today -- this seems like a great idea..... that's the kind of day I'm having

A Happy Hiney

Please note: this is not a photo of 'lil Dubya.... just an actor portraying the 'lil man

Thanks so much for those who posted and/or emailed me some diaper-rash (I really wish the Big Dubya would stop calling it red-ass) remedies.... it makes me feel so much better to know that other well-cared-for & not-neglected babies have had to battle diaper rash. Fortunately, the Triple Paste has worked wonders..... that, coupled with the fact that the "squirts" have all but eased, has helped us regain Happy Hiney Status! We'll discuss the four teeth that are coming in up top in another post -- for now, I'm just relieved his butt is back up to par.

A couple of notes.... first, Susan suggested Maalox..... thanks for the suggestion.... I've never even heard of that.... but, let's be logical... it kind of makes a lot of sense.... Maalox coats.... is used to treat acid reflux....the squirts certainly appeared to be acidic (hence the rash)..... it's cool, creamy..... probably quite soothing (although mint? really?) I think I'm going to keep some in the house... just in case.

Lastly, I used one of the common search engines to try to find a photo/picture/cartoon for above.... I innocently typed in diaper rash and clicked images..... OH MY F'ING GOD!!!! The results I saw were enough to make my butt sore! So, as a result of experiencing this visual trauma, I feel the need to clarify..... the 'lil Dubya's rash WAS NOT like those depicted here.... had it even approached that bad or even a fraction of that bad, we would have been at the HOSPITAL, probably looking for skin grafts!

Are we sure this isn't the same product?

Lucky readers.... I'm feeling inspired (translation: I'm so not into the work that's piled up on my desk)... you get two posts in one day :)

As the Big Dubya has chronicled here, the 'lil man has a nasty-assed (sorry for the pun, couldn't help myself) diaper rash. I mean, I really didn't think a child could get a rash like this unless he/she was terribly neglected and left in a seriously soiled diaper for more than a week. It's so bad that I was almost embarrassed to bring him to school this morning, for fear that social services would be called in to investigate.... however, it is not due to neglect, it's due to the constant diaper soiling that my husband fondly refers to as the "squirts" that has consumed our every waking moment for days.... and when I say constant... I mean constant.... every 20 minutes for 5 consecutive days type constant.

Now, I'll be honest..... I am a brand-loyal gal.... if my parents bought it and used it while we were growing up, chances are I buy and use it now. Heinz Ketchup, Hellman's Mayonnaise.... we weren't Burger King people, we were McDonald's people.... we didn't drink Pepsi, we drank Coke (when we were allowed to have it, which wasn't very often)..... My mother used Pampers.... and Desitin and so do I (although, I do like the Huggies wipes better)!

So, due to the constant changing.... the 'lil man's butt started to get red and so out came the blue & white tube that has 'til now served us so well..... but, as time went on, the stuff just wasn't doing what it needed to do. I thought it might be because we were using that new fangled "Creamy Desitin" instead of the old fashioned "Paste".... so we began using the paste.... but his tiny 'lil butt just continued to deteriorate with each puddle of brown, yellow, green goop that poured from his tiny 'lil butt.

I asked the Big Dubya..... "Honey, are you sure you are using enough? you need to really apply a generous coating" And he replied "Mrs Big Dubya, I'm using plenty, it's just not strong enough, it just can't withstand the sheer volume" †

I took to the internet.... (what did people do before the internet???) and found this guy. He lays out all the things we've already tried and then recommends this Triple Paste stuff. I ran to CVS and bought a tube ($10!!!! but if it works, it's worth every penny!).... man, is this stuff thick! it really looks like spackle.... which makes me wonder, is it the same stuff? I remember using Colgate toothpaste to fill holes in our dorm walls so that we didn't get charged for the damage..... hmmmmm betcha those college kids never though of this stuff. Anyway, his butt looked a tiny bit better this morning.... I'll keep you posted on our progress!

† Conversation exaggerated for dramatic effect

Honey, What's for dinner?

Me: Honey, I'm not hungry..... are you?
Mr Big Dubya: No , not really
Me: How 'bout McDonald's Vanilla Shakes for dinner?
Mr Big Dubya: Oooohh, that sounds good
Me: Cool..... or we could get ice cream.... from that homemade place?
Mr Big Dubya: Sold!

Yes, okay..... we are bad parents.... we eat ice cream for dinner.... not often, just once in a while..... and the 'lil guy had a peaches.... not ice cream.... so he's not picking up our bad habits.... yet.

As for the diet I pledged myself to not long ago..... I was (notice the past tense here) doing very well..... and then I fell off the wagon a bit when I got to Vegas.... I had yummy things for breakfast like this and this .... it was delicious and I'm not sorry.... oh, and by the way these guys make a great Irish Coffee and they don't even bat an eye when you order one at 8:30 am.

I am however recommitting myself today..... so, here's a good dieting tip



Not only is hommus tasty (once you get used to it) but it's filling and the numbers are good
Numbers (for two tablespoons):
Calories 20
Fiber 3 grams
Fat 2 grams
Carbs 5 grams
WW points 1

Pretty in Pink?..... Not-so-much

The Big Dubya recently treated himself to a new shirt from JCrew.... pictured above..... it's a nice shirt, it was a good deal -- marked down to $9.99 from $39.50..... all was good, that was until he wore it and put it in the wash. It's strikingly similar to a few of his other shirts, so I washed it...... and so now, this great $9.99 bargain shirt has cost us about a dozen dish towels, 2 pairs of jeans (mine....one Calvin Klein, one Polo), an awesome mint green Nautica shirt (his-- which is now a lovely shade of mint pink), two of the 'lil man's Winnie the Pooh sweat suits and the cover to his now very feminine changing pad pictured below.

Moral to the story.... teaching husband how to bargain shop is a good thing..... blindly doing laundry.... not so good.... as the $9.99 shirt will cost us about $150 after we replace all the stuff that got ruined.

Your turn......

So, yesterday marked 4 years of wedded bliss for the Dubyas.

We've never been huge anniversary people..... usually a good dinner, a nice bottle of wine..... this year? yeah, well this year was slightly different. This year the Big Dubya and I split a fairly crappy pizza and took turns changing the 'lil Dubya's diarhea-filled diapers. This year, the only bottle we opened was pedialyte..... and the three of us were curled up in bed by 9:30.

Fortunately, the vomiting part of this tummy-bug seems to have wrapped up (knock on wood).... but man, this was one nasty bug. The 'lil guy has been nothing short of pathetic since Wednesday afternoon.

The thing is.... it wasn't such a bad anniversary after all..... 'cause nothing is more attractive or reaffirms your choice of partner than seeing your husband care for your child.... not getting upset when covered in vomit...... or when cleaning it up, yet again.

I Wish I Knew How to Quit You!

So, yesterday morning I'm driving to work and listening to AM Talk Radio..... (that's what Conservatives listen to, while Liberals are listening to NPR).... OOOOOHHHHHH did you feel that? that was Kara cringing.....

Anyway, I heard this song.... sung by Willie Nelson..... it's titled "Cowboys Are Frequently, Secretly (Fond of Each Other)"...... yep, you read it right...... it's a song about closeted cowboys. At first I thought it was a spoof of sorts, but nope..... it's really about that. You can read more about it here. It struck me as funny and I laughed out loud in the car (yes, sometimes I really am still a sixth grader).... I'm not really sure why I laughed, but I did.... like a giddy schoolgirl. Melissa Etheridge, George Michael, Elton John..... there are lots of gay artists..... but usually they sing about love and relationships and don't say a whole lot about what kind of relationship it is.... gay, straight.... love is love, right? Well no..... not Willie, he's singin' about gay cowboys.... is Willie gay???? I don't think so, but hmmmmm maybe.... that would explain the braids.... um no........ never mind. Anyway, since the opening of Brokeback Mountain the Big Dubya's been walking around the house saying "I wish I knew how to quit you" and then cracking up laughing...... it's gotten to the point where he doesn't even have to say it out loud anymore.... he just spontaneously starts laughing.... and not just a slight laugh either, a good belly laugh and he doesn't even have to tell me...... I know exactly what he's laughing at!

Anyway, the song's on iTunes.... check it out. It's only a matter of days before the Big Dubya starts singing it!

Here are the lyrics:

There's many a strange impulse out on the plains of West Texas;
There's many a young boy who feels things he don't comprehend.
Well small town don't like it when somebody falls between sexes,
No, small town don't like it when a cowboy has feelings for men.

Well I believe in my soul that inside every man there's a feminine,
And inside every lady there's a deep manly voice loud and clear.
Well, a cowboy may brag about things that he does with his women,
But the ones who brag loudest are the ones that are most likely queer.

Cowboys are frequently secretly fond of each other”
What did you think those saddles and boots was about?
There's many a cowboy who don't understand the way that he feels
towards his brother,
Inside every cowboy there's a lady who'd love to slip out.

Ten men for each woman was the rule way back when on the prairie,
And somehow those cowboys must have kept themselves warm late at night.
Cowboys are famous for getting riled up about fairies,
But I'll tell you the reason a big strong man gets so uptight:

Cowboys are frequently secretly fond of each other”
That's why they wear leather, and Levi's and belts buckled tight.
There's many a cowboy who don't understand the way that he feels
towards his brother;
There's many a cowboy who's more like a lady at night.

Well there's always somebody who says what the others just whisper,
And mostly that someone's the first one to get shot down dead:
When you talk to a cowboy don't treat him like he was a sister
Don't mess with the lady that's sleepin' in each cowboy's head.

Cowboys are frequently secretly fond of each other”
Even though they take speed and drive pickups and shoot their big guns;
There's many a cowboy who don't understand the way that he feels
towards his brother;
There's many a cowboy who keeps quiet about things he's done.

Cancelled?..... What do you mean my flight's been cancelled?

So, those who've been reading for a while know that...... Aunt P and I kidnapped my mother (Granny) and whisked her off to Vegas for a pre-60th birthday celebration. I was brave, I left the 'lil Duby behind, as I know that despite the fact that he's been there before.... Vegas is no place for the 'lil man. In fairness, it would have been easier on me to bring him along.... leaving him killed me -- but would the long plane ride and hotel stay be the "right" thing for him?...... after much deliberation and discussion with the Big Dubya -- we came to the conclusion that leaving him behind would be for the best. I struggled with the decision, but came to the conclusion that I wasn't leaving him with strangers -- I was leaving him with his father and that it really was the best thing to do..... so, on Wednesday of last week..... off I went.

Granny was shocked by the surprise...... she cried when we told her where we were going..... little did she know, the surprises would keep on coming. Uncle Ro-Ro met us there about an hour after we landed..... my cousin Duphis, who lives in CA, met us there and treated us all to a fancy dinner on Thursday night. She was Queen for a few days and it was worth every minute. We had a wonderful time and then Saturday came and I was the happiest girl ever.... I was coming home to my men. There really is no place like home..... and nothing like a few days away to make you appreciate it. We noticed that the news was reporting that a snow storm was expected in Boston, but that wasn't until Sunday..... I naively thought that I'd fly into Boston and drive to CT just in time to spend Sunday afternoon playing with my 'lil man in front of the fire.

Imagine my shock and dismay when we learned on Saturday afternoon that our flight home was CANCELLED in anticipation of this puny little snow storm expected to hit the northeast. I couldn't believe it..... WHAT DOES THIS MEAN? I asked Aunt P, the seasoned traveler of the group....... oh, don't worry, she reassured me, we'll just get on a later flight.

Aunt P called the airline only to learn that not only was our Saturday flight cancelled, but all flights for Sunday were also cancelled. WHAT DOES THIS MEAN? I asked again. She chatted away to the representative on the phone and I started to hear something about TUESDAY......

TUESDAY????? Are you f'ing kidding me.... I'm stuck here 'til TUESDAY????

Aunt P got off the phone...... basically, the soonest they could get us on a flight was Monday evening. Of course, it would not be the direct flight we had booked.... oh, no..... first they'd fly us from Las Vegas to California where we'd loiter for a few hours (yes, I consider "layover" to be an airport euphemism for loiter) and then we'd get to fly to Boston..... at which point I'd get to jump in my car and drive the 2 ½ hours home to CT arriving home around lunchtime on f'ing Tuesday.

This was unacceptable to me, but what could I do? I tried calling the airline myself and despite the very courteous woman on the phone who promised that she'd love to help me get back to my tiny little baby..... there was nothing she could do.... there were no flights to be had. I cried, and whined and cried some more..... the Big Dubya had a hard time hiding his disappointment on the phone -- it sounded like he was ready for me to come home too, but it was not in the cards.

We tried to make the most of it.... we spent a day downtown where my brother actually convinced my mother that she should try a deep-fried-twinkie! Aunt P & I stuck to these.... and more than just one.

We finally got a flight out on Monday evening.... we were to fly from Las Vegas, NV to Long Beach, CA (yes, the opposite direction of CT) and then from Long Beach to Boston. We arrived at the airport only to learn that our flight was delayed and we wouldn't be leaving for another 4 hours.......

Eventually, we managed to leave Las Vegas and when we arrived in Long Beach I got to see the smallest airport ever built.... I mean, this place was smaller than my living room...... there are 3 gates.... and our flight left from gate 4 -- I only wish I was joking........ I soon learned that gate 4 amounted to a shed behind the double-wide that housed the other 3 gates. Once onboard I pledged to never leave home again......

We landed in Boston safe and sound and I was thrilled to know that in 3 short hours I'd be holding my precious baby boy....... we collected our bags and Mr Tall Guy picked us up.... he was kind enough to bring a shovel so he could help me dig out my car. I was shocked to see that there was hardly any snow on the ground...... THIS puny amount of snow kept me in Las Vegas for 3 extra days???? UGHHHH -- we got to my car and the clearing wasn't too bad.... I could drive over it easy enough..... that is of course if my car would start -- you guessed it dear readers..... I had a dead battery.

Mr Tall Guy was kind enough to take one for the team and go get the Massport guy to come over and give us a jump..... I got back in Aunt P's car and just laughed like a mental patient..... there was nothing more that could go wrong, right?

In the end, I did make it home and the 'lil Dubya did remember me..... and I swear, I'll never leave home again.

M'am..... Miss......

I know I just did an age post recently, but..... today called for another one.

I recently bought myself a new cute outfit that calls for new cute shoes.... in navy blue! Well, I've been everywhere and curse my small feet.... I can't find a decent pair of navy blue shoes in my size to save my life. I never thought I'd see the day where I'd be praying for size 8 or 9 feet..... but I am..... I found so many pairs of wonderful navy blue shoes..... in size 8, 9 even 10 but could I find a pair of 6½????? NOOOOOOO!

Anyway, to make myself feel better.... I decided to skip lunch and grab a McDonald's milkshake (nutritious, huh?) and in the spirit of saving time, I hit the drive through. I placed my order.... $2.36 for a shake? hmmmm kind of pricey (the Big Dubya usually pays for my shakes) and I went to the first window..... a woman older than my mother took my money.... and then said "Thank you, M’am" M’am??? you call me M’am????? I was thoroughly confused, and a little insulted.

To add insult to injury, I went to the second window to get my over-priced shake and the dude gave it to me "Here ya go, Miss" Miss???? you call me Miss??? I was even more confused and definitely insulted.

I'm not sure what I want them to call me.... do they have to call me anything?.... but, M’am and Miss are not it......

Obsolete cell phones out the wazu

If you are anything like the Dubyas.... you've got old cell phones a' plenty kicking around the house.

When we were first dating, I was with Bell Atlantic Mobile and the Big Dubya was with some other service I don't even remember the name of it..... the service was crap.

He switched over to Sprint, I switched to AT&T..... again, both services were crap.

We got a bit more serious in our relationship and we switched again.... this time to a joint plan with Voicestream..... service was excellent.... 'til we moved and then we were back to crap.

Next came Cingular..... which was better, but..... still not great and then -- you guessed it, we moved again and back to crapola.

Cingular convinced us that if we upgraded to digital we'd have better luck and yes, this was true -- service is still not great (we do live in the boonies) but it's much better.

As a result, we have several generations of obsolete cell phones kicking around. So, here's my public service announcement..... (you knew there was some reason for this post, didn't ya??)

You can take these old phones to your local police station and donate them (tax deduction!!!) the police partner up with worthy causes (like battered womens' shelters, etc) and put them to good use with people who need them. Or, another option is to help our troops by donating them here.

If you are feeling less altruistic.... go here, this company buys old cell phones for a small amount of money (somewhere between $5-$20) and gives them a second life in underprivileged areas/countries.

Are you ready for some FOOTBALL????

Hmmm.... the Superbowl...... I'm usually more excited about Superbowl weekend.... I guess that's because the Patriots are usually playing and this year yeah, ummm well not-so-much.

This year I'm torn.... what's the best part of the Superbowl..... the commercials? or the food?

I have no control over the commercials -- if you ask me, the last couple of years they've been kinda crappy anyway, but.... I can help you make the best damn dip EVAH (that's Boston-speak for "ever")

Buffalo Chicken Dip
2 8-oz pkgs of cream cheese
3/4 cup of hot sauce (I use Frank's Red Hot Buffalo Wing Sauce)
1 cup of Ranch Dressing (I used Hidden Valley Ranch)
Shredded Cheddar Cheese

Mix cream cheese, hot sauce and ranch dressing -- (a food processor works really well here, otherwise it takes forever to mix until smooth.... it still tastes the same if its not smooth, but it looks a bit sketchy with lumps and chunks) -- pour into shallow baking dish -- fold in a good handful of cheddar cheese -- Bake at 350 for 15 minutes top with a handful of cheddar and bake for 10- 15 more minutes. It's really wicked easy (that's Boston-speak for it's a simple recipe)

Serve hot with tortilla chips or Fritos scoops

Some notes:
1. You can fold in chicken as well cheddar... the originally recipe called for canned chicken (2 of the tuna-sized-cans), but that grossed me out and I find that the recipe is just as delicious without the canned chicken, so.... do what you like..... but I skip it
2. This makes a ton of dip.... for a smaller group, you can use half amounts and it turns out just fine.
3. It's Superbowl Sunday so take a diet-vacation -- because, let's be honest -- this recipe is the equivalent of rubbing a tub of Crisco directly on your ass..... but it's really, really good.
4. Lastly, every time we are invited someplace people ask me to make & bring this or they just ask for the recipe outright..... it's very, very popular! If you decide to try it.... let me know how it goes!

Enjoy!

Where is jail?

Such a strange question......

I'm a good girl.... have always been a good girl..... and even when I thought I was being a real bad-ass, I was really just Holly Hobby letting her braids down. I mean, I never hung with bad kids.... I never got into trouble.... my definition of "bad" was really just mischevious.... so I guess I shouldn't be surprised that I don't know where jail is.

My brother called me this morning -- apparently a cousin of ours landed himself in some hot water recently. Overall he's a good kid, but he's got really, really bad judgment. He's one of those kids who got caught every single time he did anything even slightly wrong..... he should know better than to take chances.... and to make matters worse, he's got a mouth on him. He thinks he's very charming -- but it's so fake..... people can see right through him.... and it just gets him in deeper.

Anyway, he's got to serve 90 days..... and innocently, I asked where.

Mrs Big Dubya: So, where's he gotta go?
Brother Ro-Ro: Jail
Mrs Big Dubya: Hmmmm, where's jail?
Brother Ro-Ro: I dunno... Could be Dedham, could be South Bay.... I think there's one over on Nashau Street by the Fleet Center.... I dunno... I've never known anybody who had to go to jail. I don't think they'd send him someplace really bad.... it's not like he's going to prison... he's just going to jail.

I'm not sure why I'm surprised that I don't know where jail is.... but it did strike me as odd.