Diet, Diet, Diet

Yeah, so.... like Aunt P, I've been a bad, bad girl and am desperately trying to get back onto the diet bandwagon in anticipation of a family gathering in Ireland.... 2½ short weeks from now.... and a trip to CA in August.

Yesterday, I was chatting with a woman I work with.... she's overweight -- more so than I.... not really fat mind you -- but she could drop 20lbs and look fantastic. I've really only got 10-12 lbs to lose..... and it's kicking my ass.

Anyway, she mentioned reading about this new diet pill that's out..... and how she was considering it because it was FDA approved, but changed her mind because the side effects are a bit scary. So, over lunch -- I checked out the website..... not really sure why, but I did.

Okay, so..... let me get this straight -- you want me to give you $49.99 for some diet pills that might make me shit myself? Sorry to be crude, but..... oh my GAWD!

I only wish I was kidding.... one of the "treatment effects" is listed here as

"more frequent stools that may be hard to control"

Oh, are you wondering what they recommend to combat this "treatment effect"???? C'mon... you are dying to know what they recommend, you know you are, right?

How about:

"You may feel an urgent need to go to the bathroom. Until you have a sense of any treatment effects, it's probably a smart idea to wear dark pants, and bring a change of clothes with you to work"

and

"You may not usually get gassy, but it's a possibility when you take alli. The bathroom is really the best place to go when that happens "

So, for $49.99 there's a good chance I might soil myself and I ought to consider carrying around a a spare change of clothes just in case my dark pants aren't enough to hide the mess.

Uhm, yeah -- maybe being fat isn't so bad.

So, how do you handle it when.....

Isn't life kinda strange sometimes?

Like, when your closest friend in the world is dating someone that you don't like..... and that doesn't like you?

You learn to deal with each other..... for your friend's sake and after some time passes, your friend thinks that everything is all better..... and mistakes your tolerance of each other for friendship.

And then they get married.... and you realize that this person isn't going anywhere.

And then you get married and your spouse loves your friend, but can't stand your friend's spouse either.....

Doesn't it just suck?

While I was on the Dunkin Donuts Website Yesterday

I started reviewing the nutritional information listed for some of Dunkin Donuts yummy products..... it's really odd the things you learn.

See, I've been doing Weight Watchers on and off for 6ish years.... so, seeing that I just recently recommitted myself to losing 10 lbs.... I figured I'd see how many points I should record for my iced coffee (1 point). Then I thought, gee..... let's see what I could eat if I wanted to grab some quick breakfast there.

A lowfat muffin (a misnomer if there ever was one) has 400 calories, 5 grams of fat and 3 grams of dietary fiber. That's 8 points in Weight Watcher language -- compared to a regular blueberry muffin which has 470 calories, 17 grams of fat and only 2 grams of dietary fiber.... uhm, yeah -- 10 points people. 10 points!

To give you non-weight-watcher people a frame of reference, someone my size, striving to be in the neighborhood of125 pounds gets 20 points for a whole day! In fairness to Dunkin Donuts, they don't call the muffin "low-fat" they call it "reduced-fat" -- but, still.... doesn't seem like such a bargain to me.

I think I'd more thoroughly enjoy splurging on a honey-dipped (they call them glazed here in CT) donut for 4 points (180 calories, 8 grams of fat and 1 gram of dietary fiber).

Now, maybe it's me being clueless about such matters.... but before I looked all this up.... if you had asked me which would be less offensive to my diet, a reduced fat blueberry muffin or a jelly donut -- I wouldn't have given my answer a second thought.

I would have declared the muffin was the obvious choice, wouldn't you? -- but nope.

A jelly donut has 210 calories, 8 grams of fat and 1 gram of dietary fiber..... or 5 WW Points.

If I ruled the world.... dieting would be easy and beverages and condiments would be calorie free.

Large Iced Coffee, Light with Milk and One Sweet & Low

Isn't it amazing how Dunkin Donuts can make or ruin your morning?

I don't stop every day, but when I want one.... I want one.... and this morning I needed one! So, I stopped at the Dunkin Donuts on my way to work. I ordered my usual and proceeded to drive to the window. The woman tried to hand me a hot coffee -- so I said, "I'm sorry.... I ordered iced coffee" -- the woman was very kind and said she'd get me an iced coffee right away. She came back and handed me a medium iced coffee.... I ordered a large, but I didn't want to be THAT high maintenance, so I just took it.

It was terrible.... it wasn't light, and it kinda tasted burnt..... so sad..... I didn't even finish it.

Oh well.... these things happen I suppose.

By the way, I'm sure she's super nice -- but hello..... YOU ARE SOOOO OVEREXPOSED!

Cheers!

So, the 'lil Dubya must have seen us doing it while we were on vacation.... 'cause now he walks around with his sippy-cup slamming it into whatever we happen to be drinking and exclaiming CHEERS! with a little British accent (yes, I'm not sure how or why..... but he's got a bit of a British accent).

It's very, very cute.

Growing up, we had a neighbor and every evening at 5:00 or 5:30 -- she'd announce "Cocktail Time!" and she'd fix everyone a drink.

It didn't necessarily have to be an alcoholic drink -- the kids would get apple juice, a Shirley Temple or something like that in a cute glass (just to make it special) -- she and her husband might have a glass of wine, a beer or an iced tea or coffee.... whatever the mood called for.

It was just a nice treat in the afternoon -- to sit and have a chat while dinner was coming together.

I really liked her "Cocktail Time" and hoped that I'd institute it in my house when I grew up..... but, I haven't -- yet.

Our house, like so many is crazy hectic in the time between arriving home and sitting down to dinner -- we could probably benefit from a few minutes to catch our breaths and have a cocktail.

Maybe we'll start that tonight....

This topic really came to mind when I read this article about underage drinking. The article itself bothers me on a few levels.... primarily because this is important stuff and I think the article fails to discuss the real issue. Instead, they dial it in and take the easy way out..... dealing with extremes and absolutes -- not even acknowledging the grayer areas.

Here's what I mean -- the family they use as examples are the EXTREME -- I mean, Mr & Mrs Bonehead went and bought booze for their 16-year old son's birthday and let him & his friends get hammered on their watch -- and now they are shocked to be going to jail. How is this the sole basis for a story about underage drinking in the home? These people gave booze to other people's kids? They let these kids get hammered in their home -- and think they a trophy because they didn't let the kids drive home after.

The article goes on to discuss the physiological repercussions of children who drink too much -- again, a very narrow view of teens who are allowed to drink at home.

Let me be clear, I was not allowed to drink at home when I was a teen -- I was almost 30 before I felt comfortable having a beer in front of my mother (I still feel like I get the evil eye when I drink in front of her) -- and I do not condone the behavior of these parents or any who would think to throw their 16 year old a keg party.

However, these are not the only plausible scenarios -- it's not necessarily an all (your kid gets shitfaced at home every weekend) or nothing (no alcohol is allowed in the house ever) matter.

Growing up, we were allowed to have a half a glass of champagne to participate in a celebratory wedding toast -- I think that's okay.

We were allowed to have a half a glass a wine at Christmas dinner -- again, I think that's okay.

My parents would never have dreamed of offering alcohol to one of our friends -- that is never okay. They would not have allowed us to get hammered or out of control -- again, not okay ever.

I've posted my thoughts on alcohol consumption in front of children here before.... and I took some heat for it -- oh well. But, isn't the best way to teach your children about responsible behavior (regarding alcohol or anything else) -- by setting a responsible example?

Instant Gratification

Okay, so I posted about our recent home improvement projects.... that quickly catapulted out of control. Of course, when you've got a new room.... you need new furniture, right? Uh-huh.

So, we went and we shopped and shopped and shopped some more to find a couch that was practical, reasonably priced and nice, but not too nice (we do have two kids with chronically sticky hands, dontcha know).

In order to get what we wanted, we had to special order it..... yeah of course we did, and wait EIGHT WEEKS!

So, for the past couple of months, the Big Dubya's had to watch his 40th birthday present on a folding chair (sometimes he lets me sit on the chair and he sits on the floor, see -- chivalry is not dead) -- instead of the plush comfort he's been dreaming of..... it's a little ghetto, but he's managed okay.

Today, we got the call..... the furniture is in and ready to be delivered -- Can I hear a hallelujah and an AMEN!

But, they can't deliver it 'til Tuesday..... TUESDAY? What the f*ck?

This is a company that advertises same-day-delivery. So, just so I've got it straight, I can go pick out a couch they have in stock and have it in a few hours, but the one that I've been waiting close to 8 weeks for is going to take until Tuesday????

I WANT IT NOW!

It's a brotherhood we just don't understand

Last week, The Big Dubya and I along with Aunt P and her husband went out for a lovely dinner to celebrate Aunt P's birthday.

While we were sitting at the bar enjoying some cocktails and terrific Irish music, the Big Dubya whispered something to me that I've heard him say many, many times before.

"There's a soldier".

I don't know why I still ask... he's always right, but as usual I asked him how he could tell from all the way across the room.

This time it was a rucksack parked discreetly at his feet, other times it's been a haircut, a key chain, a tee-shirt, a patch on a jacket or an overheard word or phrase...... things I would have never noticed, but a former soldier would never miss.

And, as has happened many times before -- the Big Dubya hopped off his stool and said, "I'm going to go buy him a beer" and he went over, introduced himself, thanked him for his service and bought him a beer. Sometimes these exchanges last just a few minutes -- this particular one was probably close to a half hour -- and they almost always end in a handshake this time it was a hug.

The soldier we met last Monday night will soon be heading back to Iraq for his third tour -- and, although sad to be leaving home, he is proud to be going -- he believes in the work he's doing there.

No, this post is not about the war in Iraq or anywhere else for that matter -- so, please refrain from commenting on that today, the anniversary of D-Day.

I am rarely prouder of my husband than when he goes on one of these "beer-buying-missions." Not because he goes off to buy some random guy a beer, because it is so much more than just that. It is his effort to make some small gesture toward a young man who is sacrificing for our nation, our family's safety and well being. It is because he stops and takes time out of our evening to get to know a little bit about a guy who surrenders time with his own family to defend the safety of strangers.

This post is about how the Army takes boys and turns them into men -- and in the case of this soldier and my husband it's about how the Army takes boys and turns them into gentlemen and brothers.

Aunt P noticed the Big Dubya was missing and asked me where he'd gone -- so, I told her and she said "Oh okay, does he do that often?" to which I responded "Yeah he does, it's a brotherhood we just don't understand"

May God Bless all of our military men & women.

Fashion Emergency

So, while we were in Disney last week -- Aunt P declared that I am a fashion tragedy and that her new mission was to break me of my scrunchy habit.... I'm guessing that the Mommy jeans are next.

Apparently, scrunchies are SOOO YESTERDAY that I'm an embarrassment to pony-tails everywhere.

I've never claimed to be fashion-forward, but are scrunchies really such a faux pas? I mean, it's not like I'm using one of these or these I like scrunchies -- the go in easy, they come out easy.... yes, some of the ones I have..... were purchased while I was in high school or college -- but others are newer.

Well, fine -- Aunt P will be glad to know that I went out and got some of these this weekend.... UGH... it's pretty pathetic when even your pony tail is out of date.

How is it possible?

My 'lil man turns two today........ every time I look at him I get a lump in my throat, overcome by how happy he's made us and how much love, laughter and joy he's brought to our lives.

Happy Birthday 'lil man -- no little boy has ever been loved more than you!

Riddle me this....

I tend to keep my politics out of this blog.... simply because I know most of yous guys don't agree with me -- so, why rock the boat, right?

Well, I'll make an exception this one time..... well, okay there may be others, but I'll try to control myself.... I happened to notice that George Clooney & Matt Damon are endorsing Barrack Obama for the 2008 presidential campaign.

I find this curious for many reasons -- and not to disparage anyone, because in this great country everyone gets a vote -- and if these guys can help raise some cash for "their guy" well then go for it. But, why the hell does anyone care? Should I vote for a presidential candidate because a handsome college-drop out who played a handyman on the Facts of Life told me to?

Jennifer Aniston campaigned for John Kerry, which of course she is entitled to do -- good for her for being politically engaged -- but, should I vote for him because a high-school graduate who is famous for her hair and her failed marriage told me to? Her hair is certainly very shiny, but I'm not sure that's enough of a reason.

Sean Penn, never went past high school -- Janeane Garofalo, dropped out of college -- Barbara Streisand, never went past high school -- Michael Moore, dropped out of college, I could go on, and on and no, it's not just lefties either -- what makes these people qualified to influence my vote?

I realize lots of smart people don't have an advanced education -- and I also realize that many stupid people are extremely well educated -- but do Americans really vote based on what celebrities tell them?

Just wonderin'

Separated at Birth?

We just got back from Disney World yesterday -- so many posts, so little time..... I'll definitely be filling you all in on the details, but.... figured I'd throw this out there while it's on my very cluttered & tired brain. While sitting on The Seas with Nemo & Friends, it struck me.... Pearl looks very much like Blinky from PacMan.

Look Out Disney, Cause Here We Come

Okay kids, taking a little Memorial Day blogging break so that we can hit Disney for a few days with Aunt P and Mr Tall Guy......

Should be a fun weekend -- we'll be celebrating Aunt P's birthday on Monday and the 'lil man's getting his first hair cut in the Magic Kingdom on Friday

Behave yourselves while we are gone.... and if you get bored, there's a new assignment up over at The Whinery.

Bar Number

The thing that's really funny..... when I was in college (okay, and maybe for a few years after that) I used to get drunk guys to buy us drinks and then give them this number when they asked if they could call..... I know, I know.... I wasn't a nice girl!

Holland?

The sister of one of Aunt P's friends passed away, geez.... probably 10 years ago now. She was only 16 or 17.... maybe she was 18, I don't remember now. She had been battling some serious heart problems -- very common in Down Syndrome kids.

She was a lovely kid -- full of love and life...... and man, could she try your patience -- oh, boy. But, like any child -- she brought her family joy, laughter and yes, tears.

Aunt P's friend is like part of our family -- they've been best of friends since kindergarten, served as bridesmaids in each others wedding. I've watched this child grow into an amazing woman -- she's one of the kindest people I've ever had the pleasure of meeting.

I sometimes wonder if amazing people are born or if they are shaped by their life experience -- probably some combination of the two. I think having had and then losing a special sister has helped mold this girl into an extraordinary person. I was telling Mr Big Duyba last night that I think of her when I hear the term "steel magnolia" -- hard to imagine such strength could reside in such a delicate person -- but it does.

I remember at the funeral, someone read this story -- I always think of it when I see the parent of a special child. I wonder where they find the strength, the patience, the courage..... but they do. I thought of it again when I read Chag's post yesterday morning, and the Big Dubya's comments yesterday afternoon. I can't begin to imagine what's running through their heads and their hearts -- but this story helps me a little.


Welcome to Holland
By Emily Perl Kingsley

I am often asked to describe the experience of raising a child with a disability - to help people who have not shared this unique experience, to understand it, to imagine how it would feel. It's like this. When you're going to have a baby, it's like planning a fabulous vacation - to Italy. You buy a bunch of guidebooks and make wonderful plans. The Coliseum. Michelangelo David. The Gondolas in Venice. You may learn some handy phrases in Italian. It's all very exciting.

After months of eager anticipation, the day finally arrives. You pack your bags and off you go. Several hours later, the plane lands. The stewardess comes in and says, "Welcome to Holland." "Holland?!?" you say. "What do you mean, Holland?? I signed up for Italy! I'm supposed to be in Italy. All my life I've dreamed of going to Italy."

But there's been a change in the flight plan. They've landed in Holland and there you must stay. The important thing is they haven't taken you to a horrible, disgusting, filthy place, full of pestilence, famine and disease. It's just a different place.

So you must go out and buy new guide books. And you must learn a whole new language. And you will meet a whole new group of people you would never have met. It's just a different place. It's slower paced than Italy, less flashy than Italy. But after you've been there for a while and you catch your breath, you look around. And you begin to notice that Holland has windmills. And Holland has tulips. Holland even has Rembrandts.

But everyone you know is busy coming and going from Italy. And they're all bragging about what a wonderful time they had there.

And for the rest of your life, you will say, "Yes, that's where I was supposed to go. That's what I had planned."

And the pain will never, ever go away. Because the loss of that dream is a very, very significant loss. But if you spend your life mourning the fact that you didn't get to go to Italy, you may never be free to enjoy the very special, the very lovely things. About Holland.

Just wanted to extend a warm welcome to our newest blogger, my sister, Aunt P -- go on, stop by -- pay her a visit -- show her some love.

Aunt P's been commenting here and here since the beginning -- and now she's diving in herself and has even joined our little wine club us as a contributor.

Speaking of wine club..... thanks a million to Kara and her dashing hubby (yeah, I have a school girl crush on him, but that's a post for another day) for getting their review up already!!!

Go check it out!

The Whinery is Open!

Hey there --

So, I launched the Wine Club Site and posted the first "assignment" this morning -- a lot of the names suggested were already taken by other blogs, but I like this one -- so..... here it is :)

The Big Dubya's going to make the site nice & spiffy for us -- so, you'll see some changes in the coming days/weeks.

Check it out and feel free to join -- either as an official contributor or just come along for the ride.

Cheers!

Wanted: Free Stuff

Just wanted to let you all know...... I like free stuff..... I'm willing to work for free stuff....

I have a lot to offer you people that give away all the free stuff..... I've got two babies, a full time job, a house, a car...... a college education (from a party school)..... a Masters degree (from a sorta reputable university) and some other academic crappy credentials that don't matter much in the real world, but would make me a terrific recipient of free stuff.

If you want me to review a book -- send me one.....

Want me to try out and rate a baby-product? I've got two babies...... send it along, we'll put it through its paces.

Cleaning product??? Like I said, I've got two babies under two years old.... cleaning products earn their keep in our house.

All the cool kids get free stuff...... so c'mon send me some free stuff, okay?

By the way.... I'm still accepting submissions for the title of my wine club -- so come join the fun and bring a nifty name too.

And don't forget..... bring on the free stuff

Wine Club

See Update Below for a list of potential club names

A few months ago, Kara started this nifty book club. It's not so much that I'm little-miss-intellectual, but I was very excited to join.... I love good books and having other people to chat with about them is great incentive to read more and to read books that I wouldn't have necessarily selected on my own.

Yesterday, I was visiting Sarah's site and reading about the wines she enjoys on a regular basis. I L-O-V-E wine -- and was excited to see that I've never tried any of the ones she recommends.... will be looking for those on my next trip to the wine store. It got me thinking.... I even sent her an email suggesting we start some sort of wine club.... and then I realized, Hey.... I don't need Sarah to do it..... I can start a wine club!

So, here it goes.... I'm starting an on-line wine club (Yaaayyy me!). Hopefully Sarah will join, and Kara, and Arwen, and Insurance Mom, and Clare's Dad, and Mr Big Dubya of course....... maybe some of the cool DadCentric guys and our friends at Dad Said Mom Said.... it'll be huge, I'll be famous!.... um, okay -- back to reality.

I'm still not sure I've figured out all the mechanics -- but the gist of it is...... people who are interested in being members will post recommendations of wines that they like and warn of ones that they didn't.

Because wine availability is pretty regional.... It probably wouldn't work to insist that we all drink the same wine -- but, we can try and see how it goes.

Personally, (I'm poor and cheap) I tend to purchase wines in the $8-$12 range for pizza nights.... a nicer dinner might go as high as $14 and then wines with prices north of that are typically reserved for special occasions or to be brought to someone else's house.

So..... who's in?

and

Any thoughts on a sassy name for us???

Update:
Potential Club Names
The Cellar
Uncorked
Tipsy on Vino
Varietals
The Cask
veni, vedi, vino!
decanter
Cask 'n' Flagon (why not?)
jeroboam joy
Bunch of Grapes (after a cute 'lil pub in Galway)

The Whinery

Cow-tipping is for sissies

Seriously, what's wrong with these kids

What can go awry when you throw your husband a surprise 40th

5. Your guests can get lost (the restaurant's directions suck)
4. Your brother-in-law can get stuck at work, and miss most of the party
3. The room you've booked isn't ready on time
2. The restaurant doesn't have ample parking
1. As you are trying to find a place to park, your husband sees your Dad in the parking lot

Sorry honey, I tried....

Sunday is the Big Dubya's 40th...... stop by and give 'im some love :)

What can I say? I love this man so much, I'd get carved in half to give him a child.... oh yeah, I did that....twice.

What more can I give????? okay, so besides the big TV...... I had an in-ground Olympic size swimming pool put in...... and it's being filled with Guinness as we speak

Happy 40th Big Guy!
and Sláinte!

So, it started with a little granola and some salad dressing

A while back, I posted my commitment to losing the remainder of the baby-weight.... 7lbs of pre-pregnancy weight, coupled with 5lbs of actual pregnancy weight. I began a couch-to-5K program and was eating healthy.... loosely following a Weight Watchers diet.

I was doing great..... I'd gotten to within 6lbs of my goal.... I was feeling really good and fitting into a lot of my pre-baby clothes and then THUD.

Did you hear that? That was Mrs Big Dubya falling off the diet wagon and leaving a big old dent in the ground.

Looking back, it's pretty clear that it wasn't one thing that caused my diet's demise.... it was a serious of what should have been little things.... but string 'em together and UGH diet disaster!

See, first -- we had a contractor working on our basement (this is where the treadmill lives), and given our extended winter here in CT and the fact that it's dark when I get home from work.... let's just say there was a little more couch than 5K in my evenings.

So, that leaves diet.

I had been having oatmeal for breakfast every morning -- it's WW-friendly, good for you, high in fiber and the cafeteria at works makes big vats of it, sells it for cheap. Sounds harmless, right? Well, of course when there's a big vat of it -- you take way more than they'd give you in one of those packets -- AND, they don't just have oatmeal..... they have a "hot cereal bar". You can top your bland bowl of mushy oatmeal with yummy less-diet-friendly items like granola (couple of scoops) raisins (sprinkle a few of those) dried cranberries (you know, for a splash of color) and some brown sugar (just a bit to sweeten it up)..... and if it's clumpy (oatmeal gets clumpy you know) throw in a splash of whole milk.

Then there was lunch..... I had been having a salad from the salad bar. Sounds good & healthy, right? Sure does! Lettuce, tomatoes, cucumbers, red peppers, carrots, broccoli....... and then I decided to add a few croutons, some of that pasta salad..... and I can have a little of the good fatty dressing right? (Parmesan Peppercorn.... yummmm..... I could bathe in the stuff)

Lastly, the Big Dubya and I dutifully gave ice-cream up for lent..... so for the first two weeks after Easter, we just had to reward ourselves with some frosty treats.... not small ones either, large with toppings, lots of toppings!

Yeah, let's just say...... I gained a good 8lbs putting me 2lbs above where I started! UGH!!!!!

My name is Mrs Big Dubya and I'm a great big FATTY!

Well, after realizing that I couldn't zip several pairs of my pants..... I got back to the diet.... and am back to being down 5lbs (7lbs to go for those of you keeping score).

The basement will be done later this week or early next week, so I'm recommitting to the couch-to-5K and, to keep me honest, I plan to join my good pal Kara for this in September.

A few of my favorite things....

A close friend of Aunt P's had a baby last week.... a beautiful and healthy baby girl. Mother and daughter are doing fine.... Dad's probably freakin' out, but.... that's to be expected, right?

After you've had a baby, lots of people look to you for advice on what a good baby gift is -- so, I thought I'd share a few of my favorite gifts..... I loved some of these so much that I gave them to other people (their own.... I didn't regift, duh!).

The Cape Buffalos gave the little man an enormous one of these with his name embroidered on it -- it was his first piece of mail. Let me tell you, this bag is so versatile -- it has served as a weekend bag and as a toy chest -- yet, no matter how much stuff you jam in there (even the awkwardly shaped stuff like toys, books, diapers and wipes), it's still compact, easy to carry and not heavy!

Aunt P got me one of these, I'll admit it -- I was skeptical. And although my kids both were able to figure out a way to propel themselves out of it..... it's a nifty little thing to have around. It works great for those early feedings when the baby's too small for the highchair -- and it's small/light enough that you can take it to Grandma's if you need to.

My cousin, who recently had a set of twins herself, sent me a set of these. Her rationale was that everyone is so focused on the baby..... she wanted to do something nice for the Mommy. These pajamas were great -- pretty, yet comfy -- and they had a built-in-nursing bra, making those late night feedings less of a hassle.

We got these 'lil guys from a neighbor of the Big Dubya's parents. At first, I thought they were kind of impractical -- the kid can't walk, what's he need shoes for? But, I was wrong. These are fantastic because they keep the socks on!!!! And, as the baby gets older and starts to stand/walk -- they keep his/her feet warm, but still give them the benefits associated with being barefoot.

A former colleague sent the 'lil man this -- and it is so lovely. It's a book, but it's also a keepsake and tells a personalized story -- I love it.

Miss America gave the 'lil man this and the 'lil lady this and they are awesome.... although, the 'lil man's favorite tag was the one with the washing instructions.....

These are a few of my favorite baby gifts...... have any you'd like to share/recommend?

It's so un-lady-like

Apples, pears, chicken wings, corn on the cob, lobster......

I hate stuff that has to be eaten with your hands -- it's just so messy and there's no polite way to do it. I'm sitting here at my desk eating an apple and it's getting EVERYWHERE.

There's another angel in heaven today

I believe in heros

Rest in Peace Professor Librescu

So.....

What do ya think of the new site??

Pretty spiffy, huh?

Thanks to the Big Dubya for all his hard work....

Guess What Aunt P and I learned today?

So, Aunt P and I were chatting on the phone today.... she mentioned that she had used her extended car ride as an opportunity to return a phone call to her mother-in-law. I found that kind of funny because when my mother calls our house, I speak to her -- when Dubya's mother calls -- he handles it. We rarely deal with each others' parents.

The discussion took a turn to what we call our in laws -- we both call them by their first names, whereas our husbands still call our parents Mr & Mrs........

I then commented that I wanted the 'lil Dubyas to call adults Mr & Mrs -- it's good manners. Aunt P agreed, but then said.... well, we never called this one Mr & Mrs..... or this one, or that one, or this other one. I responded that we DID call this one, that one and another Mr & Mrs. Aunt P then keenly observed that we called friends of our parents by their first names, but parents of our friends Mr & Mrs. This seemed to make sense.... until we realized that the children of our parents' friends called our parents Mr & Mrs while we called their parents by their first names.

OH MY GOD!
WE WERE RAISED WITH BAD MANNERS!

I'm not sure what the rule is -- or what it should be. I think the children of our very close friends should be able to call us by our first names (Miss America's Kids, Baby Buffalo, etc.). But, the friends of our children -- kids at daycare, etc. should call us Mr & Mrs.

Does that make sense?

Are there Cliff Notes for this?

So, the other day the 'lil man started gesturing that he wanted to go into the bathroom -- this is where we change his diaper -- so I assumed that he was telling me that he needed to be changed. I asked him "Did you poop?" and he said "yes" so we went into the bathroom.

I put him up on the changing pad, checked his diaper and discovered that it was both clean and dry -- so, I joked with him, called him a big faker and sent him on his way. Two minutes later, he's in the corner grunting.....

DURRRRR Mrs Big Dubya, he wasn't telling you that he HAD pooped, he was telling you that he HAD TO poop.... well gee, that never happened before.... how exciting!

I know he's young and that this might pass, but several times in the past week he's indicated that he needed use the bathroom and he's exhibited similar behavior at daycare where some of the older kids are currently in the throws of potty-training. But, I don't know what to do -- I was always under the impression that kids (particularly boys) don't do this until much later.... he's only 22 months and although I'd be thrilled to leave the diaper days behind us, I've read no books on the subject..... I find myself desperate for the Cliffs Notes version... or at the very least Potty Training for Dummies.

Yesterday he asked again -- we went into the bathroom and I sat him up on the toilet -- yes, okay now I know how stupid that was, he almost fell in.

After that unsuccessful outing, I went to BabiesRUs.com to see what they had in the potty category..... oh dear. I had no idea there were so many options --

Okay, so dear readers -- HELP!!!!!

What books/products/methods have you used/found success with? And, do little boys train sitting down? and move to standing up? or do they stand from the get-go?

Our Debut Post is Up

Check out our debut post on Dad said Mom said

And tell Mr Big Dubya to give in already and agree to #3

Happy Weekend!

Anatomy of a home improvement

As has been mentioned in a few places, the Big Dubya is turning the big 4-0 in May. I asked him if he'd like a party to mark this momentous occasion, and he said no.... he'd prefer a big TV. We can't really afford to do both, so a big TV it is.... and when I say big, I mean big. If it were up to him we'd be talking about a TV like the ones they have in Times Square.

We didn't really have a suitable place to put this big TV, so we decided to stop threatening to finish the basement -- and finally pull the trigger on doing it. So, we hired a contractor and started going about the business of finishing the basement. In the middle of this project we were blessed with a daughter and because we need the space, we decided to put a spare bedroom/office in the basement (cha-ching, cha-ching) as well as a play room (a.k.a. MrBigDubya's big TV room).

As the contractor began working, he mentioned that the room would be very big and very dark -- suggesting that we put in a couple of extra windows to brighten the place up. He was right and we agreed to add them (cha-ching, cha-ching). Some days passed and the contractor called the Big Dubya at work and said he'd been thinking...... we'd add an awful lot to our resale value if we added a small bathroom as well. Of course this makes sense, so a bathroom is being added (cha-ching, cha-ching).

When the contractor learned that we were planning to get a big TV, he suggested wiring the room for surround sound.... you know, because the walls are open already anyway.

It's official -- we'll be eating Ramen Noodles for the rest of our lives..... now, I'm just wondering at what point I can start charging admission...

Anatomically Correct?

It seems like ever family has their own cutesy names for various body parts and their associated functions.

In our house it was pee-pee and poo (although Aunt A always called them woo-woos). We were not ever allowed to use the word "fart" -- oh no, that was a "bus" (I don't know... don't ask). Breasts weren't called boobs in our house, they were called "bumps" and I'm not sure we ever had a name for Dad's private part..... but another family we know called it a "pickle"

It kind of makes me wonder what we are going to teach the 'lil dubya & dubyette and what they'll call things. The 'lil man already knows that there are pee pees and poop in his diaper -- but what about the rest? He giggles uncontrollably when he "toots" -- not sure if it's the feeling back there or our reaction that causes him to crack up, but... he laughs and laughs.

The reason this all comes up is that I was on the phone with my girlfriend yesterday -- she's an RN and she recently completed a program to get her nurse practitioner's licence specializing in women's health.

I always found it funny that she uses the proper terminology when discussing the mommy-matters even amongst her non-medical friends. She'd say things like "the area around her anus was excoriated" while I'd just say something like "she has a diaper rash" or "her butt is red and irritated".

Yesterday she was telling me about her 3 year-old daughter -- although she's potty trained, she sometimes has a tough time doing a thorough wiping job. As she's explaining to me what happened, it struck me as so odd that this 3-year old is using terms like "bowel movement", "vagina" and "labia"

Anyone want to share their family's terminology?

Riptides of emotion are drowning me

Is it the winter blahs? the baby blues? a touch of post-partum depression? or just being completely overwhelmed by trying to juggle my life?

I don't know -- but there is something seriously wrong with me. I've started this post a dozen times and each time I opted not to write it..... wasn't really sure what the reception would be and I'm in no frame of mind to argue with anonymous nit-wits (this means you so keep your rude comments to yourself bucko), but I write what's on my mind, so here it goes.

I'm a basket-case -- half the time..... the rest of the time, I'm just a very tired version of my old self. I'm not an excessively emotional person.... but these days I cry (I mean uncontrollable blubbering, crying and sobbing) over the littlest things... or nothing at all. Poor Mr Big Dubya doesn't know what to do with me.... he asks "Are you okay?" and I snap at him for asking that question too often. But, if he goes a few hours without asking.... well then I yell at him for not caring enough about me -- oh yeah, I'm a real treat to be around these days.

Our neighbor stopped by last week -- she has an 8 month old and was very candid with us about suffering post-partum depression after his very difficult birth. She described her experience and swears that a prescription was what saved her and enabled her to enjoy the first few months of motherhood rather than getting lost in a deep state of depression (Tom Cruise fans.... zip it -- I don't want to hear it). Listening to her made me wonder if maybe I have a mild case of post-partum depression myself. The Big Dubya jumped on the happy-pill-bus immediately, encouraging me to get to the doctor's office for an RX -- I'm not sure I'm there yet, but...... we'll see.

I used to wonder if Post Partum was a real thing? Of course I don't mean the Andrea Yates brand of the affliction, I just mean the plain-old-ordinary-run-of-the-mill baby blues -- I don't wonder anymore.

In my case p.p.d. might not be the problem at all -- it may just be that I've just got a lot of shit going on at the moment -- two babies under two, a house (currently under renovation), a full-time job in a demanding field.... and with my family living so far away, my only support system is my husband. Add all that to the fact that I've been breastfeeding my daughter and am now facing some serious supply issues...... which, as irrational as it may sound, makes me feel like I'm failing her..... maybe I'm just suffering from good-old-fashioned exhaustion.

So earlier this week, I broke down and called the lactation consultant. I'd been hesitant to do this because I just assumed that she was going to tell me that I need to pump more, work less and make sure my baby never, ever gets formula. Some of these people (which I am convinced is a cult) make you feel like feeding your baby formula is the equivalent of child abuse and that if you don't breast-feed 100% you are a slacker.

I was wrong -- she was so kind and understanding and reasonable -- she told me to stop beating myself up, and more importantly stop stressing --- the stress was probably doing more harm to my milk supply than anything else. She said that setting my alarm to pump in the middle of the night in an effort to increase my supply and meet the baby's demand was CRAZY (yes, this is what I was doing) -- staying asleep and getting some much needed rest would do more.

I felt so much better after our conversation -- breastfeeding mothers are awesome, but they can be so judgemental -- especially if breastfeeding wasn't a struggle for them. They often don't understand and just assume that you either stop or supplement with formula because you are lazy or not committed -- this is not always true. Sometimes (like in my case) you need to supplement with formula because your baby isn't gaining enough weight with breast milk alone (who knew my milk was skim?) sometimes you just can't pump enough to keep up with their demand. The consultant told me about a woman who was literally starving her baby because the la leche league told her formula was unacceptable. I guess like with everything else, a little common sense goes a long way.

Anyway, I haven't turned to the happy pills yet, but......

Overheard at the Dubya House

The Morning after St Patrick's Day:
Mrs Big Dubya: Honey, Did you really drink 5 Guinness last night? I bought 8 and there are only 3 left....
Mr Big Dubya: (Sheepishly) No, I had an accident with one
Mrs Big Dubya: (Incredulously) Accident? What kind of accident?
Mr Big Dubya: Well, I put a couple in the freezer to chill and, well...
Mrs Big Dubya: Exploded, huh?
Mr Big Dubya: No, I left them in too long and the widget...... it didn't.... it didn't..... it didn't widgetize.... so it tasted like shit
Mrs Big Dubya: Widgetize?
Mr Big Dubya: Yeah, you know that chip in the can..... it really does make a difference

After a new neighbor stopped by:
Mrs Big Dubya: I really like her
Mr Big Dubya: Still think she's crazy?
Mrs Big Dubya: Oh, absolutely -- but she's our kind of crazy
Mr Big Dubya: Yeah, she is, isn't she?..... poor thing.

Happy Weekend Everybody!

They like me, they really like me!

For months.... years even, the Big Dubya's been coming home constantly telling me about this one or that one with real literary cred reading his blog or his posts on DadCentric and commenting on how smart, charming and/or witty he was...... yeah, yeah, yeah.... I know, you are awesome...... WHATEVAH!

But.....now, it's happened to me too! well, okay us.... but not just him, me too!

Jenn from Dad said Mom said asked us to join their couples blog -- it's a parenting point/counter-point for parents like us -- just trying to figure out how to deal with these little people we've got living with us.... and not ALWAYS agreeing on the best approach 'cause let's face it -- the Cunninghams we ain't.

I'm very excited -- the couples take turns posting (new posts go up each Friday) and we are now officially in the rotation.

Of course I've got the usual amount of performance anxiety.... what if our post isn't good.... or witty... or insightful..... what if they regret asking us.....

Anyway, we need a topic for our debut-- feel free to make suggestions!

I'm the not-so proud owner of a nifty new gas can

Been so busy the past few days, weeks, months..... I've been a bit of a slacker when it comes to posts here in MrsBigDubya-land. Here in CT, we've had our first 70-degree day and we've gotten a foot of snow all in the same three-day span!

My good friend CapeBuffalo checked in to say that she and the baby Buffalo are alive and well and living the good life in Paris..... she was also kind enough to tag me for a meme, and although this is not profound..... here goes nothin'

Real mothers know how to entertain their kids indefinitely

with nothing more than the contents of their purse

So, here's a quick story about how my 'lil world's been turnin' lately.

Last Thursday I had an 8:00am meeting with all the Big Cheeses in my department. As such, the Big Dubya graciously agreed to swap drop-off/pick-up duties with me so I wouldn't risk being tardy. The meeting went fine.... just what you'd expect.... the big thinkers talking about their big thoughts. After the meeting I decided I should go down to the health center to pump before my day got too busy, or my boobs got too full. Well, I got down their to discover that I was missing two key components to my pump UGH!!!!. Little things like this happened to me all day -- none of which on their own would have bothered me, but compounded by the fact that I had two cantaloupes sitting on my chest..... I was very unhappy, stressed out and emotional.

I finally had enough and decided to bail a couple hours early -- not too many people look for me in the afternoon -- so I could just login and wrap up some stuff from home. On my way, I realized that I needed gas -- but figured I could make it (mistake #1). I got almost all the way to the daycare and stopped off at the cheap-gas gas station and got in line.... and waited.... and waited.... and waited. I finally got fed up and left -- there's another station a mile down the road (mistake #2). A bit down the road, there was an accident -- leaving us all parked on this road.... and that's when the car began to chug and eventually stall-out because it was out of gas.

I allowed the car to coast down the hill just enough for me to turn onto a small side street. At this point I knew this was my own damn fault and I got out of the car to walk down to the gas station which was still about a ½ mile away. The man at the gas station had no sympathy and proceeded to rob me by charging me $13.99 for a gas can (not including the gas) that should cost $3 or $4. On my way back to the car it started to rain (of course it did) and this all stopped being even kind of funny. I had asked the man to show me how to use the gas can's nozzle, he chuckled and told me it was easy -- well, it wasn't. I assembled it as the sticker instructed but no gas would come out -- and the "spill-proof" valve was spilling all over me and the street.

At this point I was standing in a puddle of gas and I was just totally pissed off -- I remembered there was a Poland Springs bottle in the pocket of the passenger side door so I spilled out the water and began to fill the tiny plastic bottle with gas -- yep, more gas on the ground and on my feet... I got two bottles full into the car and thought that should be enough to get the car started and me to the gas station -- it wasn't.

This is where I gave in and started to cry, and not the kind of sniffing cry -- this was an all out blubbering -- I was soaking wet from the rain, I smelled like gas, I was going to be late to pick up my kids, my boobs were like two big bowling balls and my car wouldn't start.

I called the Big Dubya and just blubbered -- the poor guy, he had to deal with me on the other end of the phone. He asked if he should call AAA for me -- I was too embarrassed -- how could I explain all the gas on the ground and the Poland Springs bottle.... not to mention my latest fragrance au de gasoline. I told him I'd just see him at home -- and asked him to pick up the babies.

After I got off the phone I did what I could to compose myself and remembered that there was a bottle of apple juice in the stroller. The apple juice bottle had a wider mouth than the Poland Springs bottle and should be easier to get the gas into -- sure enough it was. I put another bottle of gas in the car and got it to start -- and it was running...barely. I rolled down the hill to the gas station and filled my tank.

When I finally got home I had a beer and a really long shower.

Don't Hate Me Because I'm a Republican

All too often conversations like the following occur in the Dubya house:

Mrs Big Dubya: I'm not going to read so-and-so's blog anymore
Mr Big Dubya: Why? They're as funny as all hell
Mrs Big Dubya: They are mean to Republicans -- he/she hurt my feelings with a post today
Mr Big Dubya: Well, then you're gonna run out of blogs to read
Mrs Big Dubya: Yeah, I know

My name is Mrs Big Dubya and I'm a Conservative -- That's right..... the Big Dubya and I are registered Republicans. We're outcasts here in the Liberal Blogsphere..... and my feelings get hurt on a regular basis by my fellow bloggers, as they constantly paint us with a broad and unfair brush of stereotypes and generalities.

Some of my closest friends are on the opposite side of the political spectrum -- but we manage to acknowledge the fact neither of us came to our position lightly -- we just believe in taking different approaches to solving some very complex issues. I learn so much from discussions with my liberal friends -- in some cases they can sway me more toward the middle and in some cases they help me reaffirm my position -- but I'm more informed because of the discussion -- I hope they are too. This seems more constructive than implying that conservatives dislike gays, women, the elderly, the sick, the poor and just about every other group.

Rather than stop reading some of my favorite blogs, I thought I might try to dispel some conservative myths

We don't hate charity -- as was implied by a fellow blogger recently.
We don't hate women
We don't love war
We don't hate illegal aliens -- we just want people to come to our country legally -- like we all learned in kindergarten -- take your turn... if it's worth having, it's worth waiting for.
We don't hate the poor -- or the sick for that matter.
We don't dislike gays or lesbians
We don't hate teachers or want to leave children behind without the ability to read

I won't pretend there aren't some nut-job republicans... of course there are, but there are embarrassments in every group.

Now, if you'll excuse me -- I'm going to go eat some kittens for dinner.

It's Friday and it's Cocktail Time

*** Warning to readers who don't approve of cocktailing..... this post includes adult beverage recommendations ***

So, a week or so ago I was watching the Foodnetwork and this woman (who I generally can't stand) was on and she made this yummy looking concoction -- I figured, what the heck, I'll give it a whirl and YUMMMMMM!!!

Now, her recipe is as follows:

2 shots coffee drink (recommended: Starbucks Frappuccino)
1 shot vodka

Fill a martini shaker with ice cubes.
Add coffee drink and vodka.
Shake vigorously.
Strain into a martini glass. Top glass with remaining foam from shaker.

I used the Starbucks Mocha Frappuccio and ratio of 2:1 was a bit strong for me (give me a break, I've spent 20 of the last 30 months pregnant), so I made it with a half a shot (Stoli Vanil) instead and it was still delicious.....



Enjoy

I was not an English major

I was not an English major..... I was a Psych major, and now I work in investment tax -- I'll explain all that some other day.

Today, I'm going to complain about the mis-use of a beautiful thing called the English language.

Mrs Big Dubya's Language Pet Peeves:

1. Irrespective is a word.... Regardless is a word.... Irregardless IS NOT a word!

2. Wholenuther.... what is that? Whole other is fine..... Fluffernutter is fine..... Wholenuther..... not-so-much.

3. If you are going to pay $5 for it and wait 10 minutes for them to make it for you-- learn what it's called Espresso -- not Expresso

Anybody got some to add?

Paying the price of technology

My parents are from Ireland -- they both grew up in small (and fairly remote) villages. Growing up, I had the good fortune of going to Ireland in the summers. The village my Dad grew up in was very quiet -- beautiful, secluded and quiet. It sounds like a dream, doesn't it? I mean -- we'd wake up in the morning to the sound of sheep -- our days were filled with long walks and paddling around the lake in a small boat. Today, this sound like heaven to me -- to an eleven year old me, well...... after the first day it was pretty boring. We wouldn't have dreamed of complaining though, instead -- we devoured books and played never-ending games of Uno and solitaire.

I was eleven, when my grandfather taught me to play solitaire -- it's probably the only thing that he ever taught me. The cards were well worn -- they were soft and buttery, they were browning around the edges -- my grandparents never threw anything out -- new cards would never even be considered. I remember setting the cards up and spending an eternity looking for that next move...... Even now, I think of my grandfather when I play solitaire -- he would never approve of me cheating, even though I'd want to -- it was a far more attractive alternative to shuffling and setting up a new game.

I can't remember the last time I played solitaire with an actual deck of cards. Now, like most people, I play on a computer or on my pda (it passes the time while I pump). The electronic version doesn't let you cheat -- so, that's no longer a temptation -- but, it's so easy to give up and deal a new game -- so much of the strategy and deliberation is gone... if a game isn't going well, you can start over with a click of the mouse.

Technology has changed so many of the good old fashioned pass-times. TV, video games, computers...... they've really stolen the thunder of card games, board games and good books. I'm not sure we have a deck of cards...... but if we don't, I think I'm going to pick one up.

I pulled out the 'lil man's Bumbo chair today

I pulled out the 'lil man's Bumbo chair today because I needed someplace to put her



While I dealt with this....



Happy Weekend!