A Bonus in the Bag

I am loyal to my brands.  I like McDonald's (not Burger King), Coke (not Pepsi), Ford trucks (not Chevy), and ANHEUSER-BUSCH (not even going to dignify competitors by typing their names). 

Recently, while vacationing with another couple, one of our random conversations went the McDonald's route.  Our friend claimed that McDonald's purposely added extra fries to its customers' bags.  I've been thinking about it ever since.  If they do, I think it's genius.  Who doesn't want a couple extra fries - something small like that can turn your whole day around.

I decided to do some market research and went to McDonald's.  I ordered a cheeseburger, small fry, and small Diet Coke (not Pepsi...one of the reasons I like McDonald's).  On a side note, this is only 530 calories (basically no nutritional value, but an awesome fast food lunch).  I got my bag and looked for my extra surprise.  To my disappointment, there were no rogue french fries in the bottom of the bag.

After my extra fry failure, I turned to google.  I could not find any articles stating that they purposely put the extra fries in the bag.  However, there are at least 7,960 people that "like" finding extra fries in the bag on Facebook.  There are even 400 Facebookers who dislike when there are no extra fries. 

My conclusion is that if they're not doing it on purpose, they should start.  I am crossing my fingers that my next Mickey D's trip will include the extra fries at the bottom of my bag.

A New Kind of Stranger Danger.

If you don't already know this, women are competitive.  Add a baby into the mix and it gets a little crazy.  Luckily, my friends are not like this.  However, strangers with babies are another story. 

To be honest, I can't go anywhere without a stranger mistaking my nine month old for a one year old.  When they realize he is nine months old, they inevitably ask me if he is walking.  My reply is "no" and then they say something like, "My child walked all over the place by the time he was eight months old.  Don't worry about your baby.  Each child develops at their own pace".  They may as well tell me that my child is slow.  The next comment from the stranger is, "He must be crawling all over the place!".  My reply is another "no".  Then they look concerned.

I don't know many adults who never learned to crawl or walk, so I'm not that worried about it.

Dear strangers who like to tell me how their baby knows sign language, walked out of the womb, and said his/her first word at three months....congratulations.  I'm sure my 23 pound nine month old will turn out just fine.

My baby can stand with the aid of a chair!  Can yours?

A Wicked Awesome Party...Woof.

I would consider this weekend (specifically yesterday) a success!  We saw Wicked on Friday and I pulled off a quasi-surprise party for my husband on Saturday thanks to our amazing friends.  Today, our little family spent the day in bed watching the worst movies ever made (National Treasure, XXX, and, Transformers).

I always enjoy seeing musicals, but the most comical part of going to Wicked was an interaction my husband had with a former classmate.  During intermission, one of Ethan's high school friends came up to say hi.  Ethan then turned to the classmate's date and said, "Soon you're going to be Mrs. McGeorge, right?"  She looked annoyed and said "No."  After some small talk, we went to the restroom.  While Ethan was in the bathroom, he recounted the awkward event to my brother.  Little did he know, the classmate was standing right behind him listening to the whole thing.  My husband may be the most awkward human being alive.

We had a pretty good crowd to help us celebrate Ethan's 29th.  Ethan thought that it was just going to be a family afair, but another twenty people randomly wandered into the party throughout the evening.  The theme of the evening was "dogs", which was not a far stretch from our every day lives with Fiona and Blue.  However, my child may be having nightmares right now about his whole family transforming into dogs.

He was ok with the dogs ears, but when we put on the noses he was TERRIFIED.  The noses stayed off  until bed time and then made a reapparance after a few more beers. 

Besides learning that Little Ethan is terrified of fake dog noses, I also learned that I do not drink enough wine.  I offered a friend a glass of wine and then went to open the bottle.  The cork screw didn't feel quite right when I was trying to open the bottle, but I kept twisting any way.  I then "uncorked" it, only to find out that it was a twist off...there was no cork and I successfully screwed through an aluminum cap in front of a group of people.  Oops.  Ethan may have some competition for the title of most awkward human being alive.

A special thanks to our friends and family who put up with our awkwardness and came to celebrate with us.  We are very lucky to have such awesome people in our lives!

Prison Hats and Sparkly Wigs

Must write quickly, nap time is almost over! My husband, Ethan, will be turning twenty-nine on Friday and my family will be celebrating his birthday on Saturday. I am currently working on preparations for the party and have been thinking/laughing a lot about my family's random birthday tradition.

We love seeing each other look ridiculous. Each birthday, we have some sort of theme and everyone MUST wear the hat/garment/accessory provided. One year for my brother's (Sammy) birthday, the theme was jail. All of us wore prison hats and temporary tattoos. We ate handcuffed to each other. Yes, handcuffed to each other. It was not easy.

My sister's (Kelly) last birthday was a loco fiesta!

One of our latest themes was doo rags. Even Little Ethan was required to participate.

I can't put my finger on when this weirdness started, but it has definetely ramped up the older we have gotten. I look forward to every birthday party just to see what the next hat will be. Let's be honest - there is nothing better than drinking a Nattie out of Waterford while wearing a cowboy hat or sparkly wig.

Stay tuned for pictures from this Saturday. Thank goodness I have a big family - we get to do birthdays pretty often!

Baby Illness Amateur

I have been very lucky over the past eight months.  We haven't had any sick visits to the doctor.  Unfortunately, he has been in such good health that I have no idea about visits to the pediatrician's office.

Over the weekend, the contents of Little Ethan's diapers were not his norm (I won't get more detailed than that).  I made him a pediatrician appointment for 8:50 on Monday morning.

We arrived at the doctor's office.  Little Ethan looked super cute (wearing a light blue shirt and blue and white check shorts) and I looked bizarre (wet hair, no make-up, and a tight shirt I shouldn't be wearing post-baby).  I walked up to the receptionist, checked us in, and we made our way to the sick waiting room.

I sat with Little Ethan on my lap and thought about how bizarre it was that I was old enough to be sitting there as the parent instead of the child.  I stopped seeing my pediatrician about six years ago.  We shared the sick waiting room with an eleven month old girl (smaller than Little Ethan).  They entertained themselves by grunting back and forth at each other.

"Ethan Wirt" was called and the nurse guided us back to a little room.  As the nurse left the room to get her supplies, she instructed me to take off his outfit and sit him on the table so she could take his temperature and weigh him.  I stripped him down to his diaper and waited for the nurse to return.  She did and explained again that she needed to take his temperature.  I said, "ok" and waited for her to take his temperature.  After a few seconds, she said, "You need to take his diaper off".  I guess the Vaseline on the thermometer should have tipped me off.

He had a low grade fever, 100 degrees, and weighed in at 21 pounds, 3 ounces!  After a bit, the doctor came in and checked his ears...I mean attempted to check his ears.  Apparently, she couldn't see much because of all the ear wax (ewww).  I immediately got nervous because I wasn't sure if I was supposed to be cleaning his ears....I hadn't in eight months.  Luckily, the doctor told me that I wasn't supposed to (visit from social services avoided!).

The verdict was in - an ear infection in the left ear!  She wasn't our normal doctor and was surprised that this was his first sick visit.  I'm surprised she didn't already know because of all my awkward questions about medicine and ear infections.  I also commented that I should take a picture of the two of him to commemorate his first ear infection.  She wasn't amused.  She told me to give him Amoxicillin twice a day and left the room.

I had to ask a nurse how to get back out to the main waiting room (the place is a maze).  I went to receptionist to ask for a prescription and check out.  They told me I didn't need to check out and that the prescription had already been sent to the pharmacist.  Oops.

I then had an miscommunication with the pharmacist when she told me the Amoxicillin needed to be mixed.  I said, "Ok, I'll mix it with his food".  She then said that she meant she had to mix it in the back before she gave it to me.

I was happy to get home and get the pink stuff in his mouth.  He seems to be feeling much better today.

Sorry for the long post, but I am sure I will look back at this and laugh at what a novice I was.  Something tells me this is the first of many sick visits!

Zombie Fish

For some reason, I don't have a whole lot to write about lately.  If I had to guess, I would say it's because Little Ethan is teething (and not very happy about it).  However, it seems as though he has won the teething battle (until the next two teeth) and is starting to act more like himself.  Because I like blogging and don't want to get out of the habit, here is another post about recent googles:

Trumpette
There is a lot that you can do wrong when it comes to parenting.  One of my largest mistakes thus far is shoes.  I confess - I have a barefoot baby and have never made him wear shoes. Little Ethan considers shoes to be another teether.  I put the shoe on his foot and then he takes it off and puts it in his mouth.  After two days of the put it on, take it off, chew on it battle, I had a weak moment and googled "Trumpette".  Trumpette is a brand that makes socks that look like shoes.  He wore these when he was an infant because it's hard to find shoes small enough.

I then realized that I was compromising with an 8 month old (talk about a parenting mistake!).  Since the google, my little man has been wearing shoes, whether he likes it or not.  Soon it will be winter and he'll start trying to walk.  He will thank me later.

456 Fish
A few days ago, I escaped. My mom and I went to visit my brother, Christian, for his birthday. We wanted to eat some seafood and celebrate. This is what I learned:
Do not confuse 456 Fish with 1 Fish 2 Fish. 456 Fish accidentally serves you sushi (raw scallops)...yuck. 1 Fish 2 Fish has amazing food and service. Try not to confuse either of these with Red Fish Blue Fish, which is located in Key West. Confusing enough for you?

Zombie Baltimore
One of my best friends in the world, Jenna, lives in Baltimore.  I would first like to take this time to say that she is a much better friend than I am and comes to Richmond (or wherever else I may be) way more than I go to Baltimore.  That said, Baltimore is awesome.  Recently, Jenna gave me another reason to come to Baltimore.  Apparently there is a 5K obstacle course called "Run for your Lives".  Basically, you're running from zombies.  Here are some of the guidelines from http://runforyourlives.com/:

• Before the race, you will be given a flag belt, just like the overly intimidating game of flag football. These flags represent your health.
• The zombies want to take your flags and maybe eat your brains.
• If you lose all your health flags, you die. And the zombies win.
• Health bonuses will be hidden throughout the course. If you find one and carry it to the finish, it will save your life.

This may be the most awesome thing I've ever heard of.   I wish I were more in shape so I could partake.  They would definitely eat my brains.

Hope everyone has a zombie-free day!

A Formula for Mishaps

Sometimes I feel like my life has become a series of mishaps.  I guess I asked for it with the entourage I currently hang with - Blue and Fiona (two insane "used" dogs), Noel (in cancer remission), and Little Ethan (proud owner of two new teeth).  I have to find the humor in the mishaps so I don't go insane.  Here is a recap of my last 24 hours.

After finding that Blue had gotten his head stuck in the kitty door and then ripped it out of the wall, I needed a break.

I left Big Ethan with the baby and tried to find some alone time on the back porch.  Unfortunately, Little Ethan did not think this was the best idea, so he repeatedly walked into the door to try and get to me.

I was extremely happy when I finally fell asleep and dreamt that I was back in college (in the dream my only worry was what drinking establishment I was going to attend that evening).  Unfortunately, I woke up to a baby crying and the mayhem started again.  I asked Big Ethan if he wanted to get the baby or the bottle.  His reply was, "Can't I get a break at some point?".  I wanted to slap him, but resisted the urge and went downstairs for a bottle.

The beginning of the morning was typical - bottle, baby food, Today Show, walk, nap.  I put Little Ethan down in his crib and headed for the shower (this is the best time to shower because you can't hear the crying).

I walked out of the shower and noticed that neither of the dogs came up to try and lick me (like they usually do as soon as I get out...gross).  That's when I heard strange noises coming from my office.  I threw on my bathrobe to go check out the situation.  Fiona and Blue had gone into my purse (aka diaper bag) and taken out the Little Ethan's formula.  They then opened the formula and ate it all.  They looked like guilty cocaine addicts.

Fiona is now napping and Blue is still looking for food.  What will the rest of the day bring?

The Llama Factor

One of the most interesting things about writing a blog is looking at your statistics.  For example, I know that my number one source for page views (aka when some one clicks on a page) is Facebook.  I also know that "True Mud" is my most popular post.  My stats also tell me that six people in France and three people in Hong Kong have viewed my blog. 
A lot of people aren't reading my blog because they are interested in my life or because they find my writing entertaining.  I was curious after looking at what google searches brought people to my blog:

They are looking for the llama.  Traffic to my blog has steadily increased since I wrote "The Straw that Broke the Llamas Back".  Apparently when you google image "happy llama", my blog is the second image that comes up.

I would like to thank Llamas for the PR.  I certainly deserve it after what I've been through with their kind.  In conclusion - thank you for reading my blog, even if you're only doing it for the llama.



How to Spoil a Baby.

Today, Little Ethan and I have been doing battle.  He's winning.

Today started at 5:30 AM, which is very early when your child typically gets up at 6:30 or 7:00.  I pretended like I didn't hear him for 15 minutes and then Big Ethan and I got up.  I got the bottle and he changed the diaper.  Big Ethan must have known what I was in for because he immediately left for work.  After a walk, Little Ethan went down for a brief nap and was up again by 9:00 AM.  At that point, I made the mistake of going to Target. 

Missoni launched their Target line today and the place was filled with unusually well-dressed people scrounging for knit dresses.  For some reason, I thought I could join in on the fun.  See picture below and note the baby in the background:

What a cute grimace!  That was the most well behaved he was during the whole shopping adventure. 

After being distracted by Missoni, I took a few laps around Target, trying to get everything on my list (everything takes you twenty times longer with a crying baby in your cart).    Little Ethan wasn't just crying - I'm pretty sure he was determined to make me look like an inept mother.  He has been sitting up for two months and sitting in a cart for a little longer than that, but today he may as well have been a rag doll.  Every time I took a turn, he flopped to one side of the cart and started crying.  One woman even came up to me and asked if he was learning how to sit. 

About 45 minutes in, I headed to the toy section out of desperation.  I added a new toy to the cart in an effort to distract him (aka bribe him to be good).  To make a long story about a terrible day short, the toy has not helped.  He is now sitting on the floor playing with his new toy while he grunts at me.

I would like to use this post to officially concede.  Little Ethan, you win.  I will do whatever you want to make the crying stop.

Nattastic Post!

At this point, it should be no shock that I am fan of the random. When I woke up this morning at 5 a.m. to a baby crying, for some reason I started thinking about how funny the verbiage at the bottom of a Groupon email is. For example, one of the latest email reads, "Without gutters, houses would become overrun with rainwater, and games of roof bowling would involve endless ladder climbing. Stay on top of your home's maintenance with today's Groupon to First Choice Quality Services."

My mind then wandered to other random funny things that make my day. Sadly, a lot of them revolve around fast food and beer.

• Thirst Begone! Thanks, McDonald's.

• Even though Arby's has insanely high prices (unless you live outside of Richmond where Arby's is ghetto and gross), it does have witty sayings on every product they hand you.

• One of the many reasons that I love Natural Light (aka Natty) is because of Nattyisms. Each Natty box has a Nattyism. Here are a few of my favorite examples:
• Naturnal Instinct: A person's instincts to love and protect Natty Light
• Natastrophe: The unfortunate loss or destruction of one's Natty Light
• Natio Furniture: The use of a cooler of Natty Light as a chair or table
• And many more! (Natcula, Natistics, Natalyst, Natmare, etc.)

Too bad it's only 9:40 in the morning. This entry is really making me want a burger and a beer. Hope everyone has a nice day and takes the time to appreciate the random! I will leave you with this thought from Groupon: "Like the Rubik’s cube, swing-dance-revival revivals, and the swimsuit portion of the presidential debates, celebrity news can provide hours of entertainment for average Americans. Keep up with Hollywood's finest with today's Groupon: for $30, you get 52 issues of Us..."

Got Milk?

Ever since Little Ethan (trying to transition from calling him Baby Ethan to Little Ethan so he doesn't get a complex) was born, he had an immediate friend. Noel was right by my side as soon as we walked in our side door. As I have mentioned before, Noel is not a normal cat. Today as I was feeding baby Ethan on my lap (while Noel sat on his lap), I pondered the relationship between cats and babies. Here are the top ten reasons I came up with for why cats love babies:

1.  They have things in common - like cute feet.

2.  Babies are warm and cats like to be warm (which is why Noel gets locked out of the room when Little Ethan sleeps)

3.  Another reason Noel gets locked out of Little Ethan's room - Cribs make an excellent hiding place when you live with two dogs who like to chase and lick you.

4.  The toys that you hang from the top of the car seat are essentially expensive cat toys.

5.  Babies don't bark (much).

6.  If you've had or been around babies, you know that their nails grow at alarmingly fast rate.  The longer the nails, the better to scratch the cat with.

7.  Cat cries and baby noises are not that dissimilar.  Maybe they speak the same language.  If cats could translate, there would be a lot less frustration for new parents wondering why their baby is crying.

8.  All baby swings, seats, etc. are cat-sized. I have no doubt that Noel is thankful we got all the new "cat furniture" for her.

9.  Cats like to sleep during the day and hang out during the night. So do newborn babies. Noel must have been happy when we became nocturnal too.

10.  Milk.  Enough said.

 

"Pitch-Black Furnace of a Closet"

I wish I could have written this myself, but I don't have power.

The Five Stages of Life without Power

Hurry Up. Take Your Time.

It has been way too long since I have blogged.  I have been enjoying a family vacation (with the addition of a few friends!).   To sum up my experience, I have decided to share some Dos and Don’ts of Key West, Florida.

Do…

…Wear matching t-shirts.  Key West is the perfect place to fly your freak flag.  People may question why three or eleven of you are wearing matching shirts, but it’s only because they want to join in the fun.  I would recommend walking down Duval Street and causing a ruckus in the shirts.

…Eat!  Key West has some of the most amazing food I have ever eaten.  I would recommend the Lobster Gnocci at the Roof Top Café and the Shrimp and Grits at Blue Heaven.   You might gain five pounds after eating either of these dishes, but it is worth it.

…Go snorkeling at Fort Zachary Taylor Park, but don’t expect to see any fish.

…Randomly invite friends to join you.  You never know when someone might decide to buy a plane ticket.  I told one of my best friends Jenna, that I was in Key West on Monday afternoon.   She arrived at noon on Tuesday.  By 1:30 we were having a drink at Camille’s.  Excellent.

…Impersonate the street performers at Mallory Square.  A well-placed Cat Man impression or an attempt to scare Bush Man is sure to get some laughs.

Don’t…

…Accept jello shots from an attractive waitress.  Chances are, she may want to give you more than a jello shot (for a small fee of course).

…Forget to buckle up the baby in his stroller.  You never know when someone’s pool chlorine may explode.  You may need to make a quick exit from an outdoor restaurant to escape poisonous chlorine gas.  Apparently, it’s not good for you.

…Count calories.  You will be over your daily limit after one breakfast.  Lobster benedict anyone?

…Go to the rest room at Irish Kevin’s.   As soon as you stand up, you become a target.  The live musician there has a whole arsenal of comments to make as you walk by.  If you’re female and over thirty, you’re likely to hear cougar noises coming from his mike as you make your way to the restroom.

…Go to Willie Ts if you’re not a fan of angry girl music.  If you like Alanis Morissette, Janis Joplin, and Melissa Etheridge, this is the place for you!  If you request enough songs, you may get a nickname from the lead singer.  If she refers to you as “Richmond”, she may even give you two sparkly picks she made.

…Stress out.  Key West is a hilarious place full of wonderful people and it somehow manages to bring out the laid back fun in everyone.   I feel lucky that I have gotten to enjoy it with my wonderful family and two of my best friends.

Fiona and the Werecat

Another post about my recent googles.  Honestly, it is the best way to recap what I have been thinking about....

Werepanther
I feel like I have mentioned True Blood way too many times already.  For all that do not watch it, it is not a good show.  It's inappropriate and the acting is pretty awful.  However, the show sucks (no pun intended) you in because it makes you wonder what kind of supernatural creature each new character will turn out to be.  Crystal is a werepanther.  Did the author of the Sookie Stackhouse novels just start to make creatures up when she ran out of weird things?  Apparently not.  Werecat myths originally began in India, but are still around today.  Some South American countries believe that werejaguars are working for the government as assassins (no, I am not kidding).  Most importantly, the villain in She-Ra, aka Catra, was a werepanther - I should have remembered that!

Dry Eye
We have an English Bulldog named Fiona.  One of the first questions people ask when they see her is, "I hear bulldogs have a lot of health issues - is that true?".  No used to be my answer.  Come to find out, Fiona has a condition called dry eye.  Basically, she does not produce enough tears, so we have to give her eye drops daily to compensate.  On top of the dry eye, she has now developed some hot spots.  These are the medications Fiona has had today: Prednisone (for itching), Antibiotics (in case her hot spots are caused by an infection), and Propylene Glycol (for her eyes).  So, yes bulldogs have health issues.  It's just a matter of time before something shows up.  Luckily, their goofy personalities make up for it.

When do you stop burping a baby?
Baby Ethan is a professional sitter upper.  Since that started happening, he seems to be burping all by himself.  It is weird that I experience pride over things like sitting and burping.  I googled because I didn't want to neglect my little guy by not burping him anymore.  I got the very specific answer of between four and nine months.  I guess I'll just keep burping him for now - anything to keep him seeming more like a baby.  He is growing up too fast!

Toto, we're not in high school anymore.

Two months ago, I would have considered myself an athletic person.  I'm not sure why - I've never really been someone who goes to the gym.  Honestly, my athletic assessment of myself comes from high school (nine years ago) when I played sports, like 99 percent of the people I know.  Well, I'm not in high school anymore!

My husband, Ethan, and I signed up for a kickball league.  I was a little nervous having given birth four and a half months prior to the league starting.  I figured I would stand out in the field and drink a Nattie...nope.  Little did I know that we would actually be sprinting around a field and have balls kicked at us by a bunch of in-shape guys.  After our first game, I woke up the next morning and dreaded every time I had to take a trip up and down the stairs because my muscles were so sore from running.

I was excited about our second game, but was still a little sore.  It was a good kind of sore that made me feel like I was in shape (I tried not remember that I was sore from sprinting to first base once).  Our team, Sick Burn, was up to kick first.  I was up second and getting pumped to kick the ball as hard as I could.  As the pitcher rolled the ball to me, I remember thinking, "I am going to nail this one".  I don't even remember how far I kicked it because I was blinded by pain.  I took off sprinting to first base and only made it two strides before I turned around limping back to my team.  As I hobbled back, Sick Burn was looking at me and yelling, "Run to first!".  Yeah right.  I couldn't even put weight on my right leg.  It was on fire.  As it turned out, I had a really bad pulled muscle.  I sat on the sideline the rest of the game.  Brian, first up to kick, sat with me for part of the game because he also pulled his leg while kicking the ball and running to first.

To make a long story short, I gimped around for three weeks with an ace bandage on my leg (which looked really good peaking out from under my dress at a baby shower I went to).  Two weeks ago, right as my leg was actually healed, Ethan tore his quad playing kickball.  He is now gimping around the house with an ace bandage looking very black and blue.  Unfortunately, he does not have much time to heal because we just started playing in a social dodge ball league.  I got nailed in the face at our first game.

Note to self: just because you were in shape and athletic in high school does not mean you are in shape and athletic a decade later.

Experienced Hamster Mommy

My parents have a rental house with no renters.  There is a freeloader though...some sort of animal in the basement.  Obviously, they didn't need to call animal control since they have four kids, all within a 20 minute drive.

Unfortunately, Christian, my youngest brother, was out of town the day my mom decided it was time to set the live trap.  I was the obvious next choice because of my six minute proximity and love of animals.  I am also an experienced live trapper.  I got one for Christmas when I was eleven so I could catch wild animals at The Land.

We bought our new live trap at Lowe's.  It was the only one they had.  I put it in the back of my car and went home to put it together.  After pulling the smelly box out of my backseat and starting to read the directions, I noticed something funny about them.  It almost looked like the edges of the paper had been burnt.

I thought it was odd, but continued to try and assemble the cage.  After cutting my hand, I enlisted my husband to help while I investigated the mysterious "burnt" directions and odd smell.  I looked in the box to find tons of rodent droppings.  I then realized that I recognized the odd smell from my days as a hamster mommy - rodent urine.  Luckily I had my tetanus shot when I was pregnant.

I guess it was such an awesome live trap that something decided to make it home.  Unfortunately, the freeloader in the basement does not agree with the live trap's former resident.  We set it a week ago and had no activity.  Maybe the freeloader doesn't like used homes...or maybe the freeloader was the dead squirrel that Sammy, my other brother, disposed of a few months ago.  Hmmm.

The Straw that Broke the Llama's Back

I have always been obsessed with animals.  I was excited when mice got in the house, delighted when I saw seagulls circling the trash at the dump, and overjoyed when "french fry birds" harassed me at McDonald's.  Unfortunately, animals have not always loved me back.  I am about to reveal a highly disturbing story to you...brace yourselves.

When I was little, I was attacked by a llama.  I remember toddling around a petting zoo with my parents and grandparents (Gaga and Papa).  While attempting to pet a baby chicken that was walking around, I noticed something out of the corner of my eye.  I specifically remember, saying "Look, a camel."  I guess this was the straw that broke the llama's back.

The allure of the "camel" quickly wore off and I turned around to go try and touch more animals.  The llama reached his head through the fence and grabbed me by the back of my OshKoshes.  He proceeded to try and pull me into the fenced in area.  As he was slamming my little body into the fence, Gaga ran over and wedged her body in between me and fence to soften the blows.  The attack ended when Papa punched the llama in the face.  I walked away unscathed, but with a fear of llamas.  I am sure my parents were terrified.

In all seriousness, they are a pretty dangerous animal.  Llamas are used to protect herds from intruders, like wild dogs.  Phillip, a llama that belonged to a neighbor tried to attack our Silky Terrier, Shaq, once...but that's a whole other story.  Personally, I don't think that something that is supposed to maim and kill small animals in order to protect a herd should live in a petting zoo for children (aren't children small animals?).

Baby Ethan visited the zoo for the first time two days ago.  I was happy to see that there were no llamas there.  If I can teach Ethan anything, I hope it is to never turn your back on a llama and know your animals.  They may be insulted when you mistake them for a camel.

I don't trust that smiling llama for one second!

True Mud

I have recently realized that Baby Ethan probably shouldn't be watching things like Game of Thrones and The Real Housewives of New Jersey with me.  He might have nightmares about dragons with Jersey accents (scary!).  So, I have started trying out a few kids shows.  After watching things like The Wiggles, Babar, and Baby Einstein, I always want to go....where the air is sweet!  Can you tell me how to get...how to get to Sesame street?

Everyone should know that Sesame Street is as awesome now as when we were little.  The other day, I noticed that Big Ethan and I were watching it while the baby was quietly playing in his bouncy saucer.  Please note that I noticed and still didn't change the channel.  I enjoyed learning about the letter "V" and gemstones for the next twenty minutes.  Glorious!

If you don't believe me that Sesame Street is awesome, please watch the following videos which are a sample of what is providing me (ohhh and Baby Ethan) with hours of entertainment:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Q8kLlNt3Ue4&feature=relmfu
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zkd5dJIVjgM

Who needs Game of Thrones when you can watch True Mud?

Cute and Fun with a Scratchy Tongue

Today has not been the easiest day.  I was randomly hungover after splitting a bottle of wine with my sister last night.  Also, Baby Ethan was off of his normal nap scheduled.  These two things are a killer combination.  As I count down the minutes until Big Ethan gets home, I will reflect on three funny thoughts that I had today.

I have probably said this to all four of you who read my blog, but I hate the pretzels in chex mix.  As I sat in bed shoving the 100 calorie chex mix pack into my mouth (wishing it were a cheeseburger), I was pretty pissed off.  The bag was mostly pretzel.  What a rip-off.

As I was waiting for Baby Ethan to take a nap, we played with a new toy.  It's a cube that has an animal on each side: a horse, a cat, a dog, a cow, a sheep, and a duck.  When you press the animal, it says what it is, makes the animal noise, and then sings a song.  I think we should all quit our jobs and become song writers for kid's toys.  The songs are creepy and ridiculous.  The following is what I heard all morning:  "Cat.  Meow.  I'm a cat and I have soft fur.  I am cute and fun with a scratchy tongue.  When I'm happy, hear me Purrrr!"

Finally, nap time arrived and I crawled into bed wearing my comfy Kermit the Frog shirt.  I fell asleep quickly and woke up quickly to Fiona howling like a werewolf.  I have never heard the dog howl before in my life.  It made me wonder if she's been watching season three of True Blood (the season with the werewolves) with me and Big Ethan.

Baby crying again.  Time to go!  "Cow.  Moooo.  I'm a cow.  I'm black and white.  I like to eat grass all day and night because I'm a cow...and how!"

Mommy Blogger

Up to this point, I have not written much about being a mommy.  To tell you the truth, I think I have been in a state of mild shock for the past six months.  I am still trying to wrap my head around the fact that I have a new person living in my house that I made.  I have never wanted to be a "mommy blogger", but let's be honest - being a mommy takes up more than 100% of my time.  Here are some things I have learned / pondered about being a beginner mommy:

Pregnancy is way too long.  Someone needs to do something about it.  The fact that it is counted in weeks makes it seem even longer.  As for the people who say that they loved being pregnant, I'm not sure I believe them.  My sister and I are trying to work out a situation where she is pregnant with the babies and I give birth to them...I'm not sure how that is going to work, but let's keep our fingers crossed we can magically make it happen.

I think people should enjoy giving birth and not judge other people for their "birth plans" (or lack there of).  Having a baby is scary enough...you don't need anyone stressing you out with their opinions.  I had an epidural and requested that my mother and husband act like nothing out of the ordinary was happening.  I got to listen to family gossip with the Today Show and HGTV on in the background.  I calmly pushed three times and then Baby Ethan was born.  Ethan and I split a Coke and then our family came in to meet their new obsession.  It was a great day full of joking around, some emotional tears, and lots of supportive family.  I couldn't have asked for anything more.

The beginning sucks.  You are in pain and you're not sure what to think of the new human that magically appeared.  Even though he lived off of me for close to ten months, he was a stranger to me.  Luckily, unconditional love sneaks up on you.  As soon as the pain wore off (about six weeks for me), I wanted to cry every time I noticed he was getting bigger.  That is how I knew I was in love with my baby boy.  I now feel guilty for not appreciating the days when he was tiny more than I did.  I will do better next time (if I'm not too busy chasing baby Ethan around the house).

In conclusion, the beginning is hard.  It is lonely and stressful, but it is worth it.  I will never get these moments back with my baby (tearing up again!).  I love him.  I am very lucky.

Bitter Kabuki

On a Valentine's Day not so long ago, Eric, Melissa, Ethan, and I met Curtis.  That is when our Saki Bomb induced love affair with the crazy head chef at Kabuto began.  Who wouldn't love a guy who cracks himself up, gets you free Saki, and refers to you and your husband as "the drinking couple"?  His hibachi skills are not the best, but it's never a boring night when Curtis is working your table.  If you go to the ghetto Kabuto on Midlothian Turnpike, request him.  There may be rap blaring from the kitchen, but you will barely notice if Curtis is cooking for you.

The last time we went to Kabuto, we did not have Curtis.  We had another guy whose skills were much better, but he never cracked a smile.  I remember him because when he did the infamous onion volcano, he put the fire out with a water bottle shaped like a little boy.  When you squeezed him, his pants came down and he "tinkled" water on the volcano.

Two nights ago at Yamato (we cheated on Kabuto because Yamato is closer), we saw the chef with the tinkling water bottle!  Of course, Ethan and I were curious why he was cheating on Kabuto.  After he spun an egg and cracked it on the side of his spatula, we asked him if he used to work at Kabuto's.

Let this be a lesson to us - never strike up conversation with a hibachi chef, unless it is Curtis.  There was no more entertainment after the question was asked.  Instead, he went on a tirade about the egotistical head chef of Kabuto!  He explained that Curtis insisted that each chef keep their own tip instead of tip sharing.  Apparently this is unfair to the chefs who aren't as good as Curtis.  He said it made the environment too competitive and that worse chefs cooked more quickly to get to other tables in order to make more money.  The non-smiling tinkling water bottle chef went on and on about how much he hated Curtis and how he had worked at more than five hibachi restaurants and never had such a selfish head chef. 

While this was going on, Ethan and I pretended to be interested and the other people at the table were clearly bored by the fact that there was no fire or shrimp tossing.  Maybe this is why the guy had worked at over five hibachi restaurants.  He claimed that Curtis' salt and pepper juggling skills were terrible, but I would rather have seen that than listen to him complain.

The bottom line is, don't complain about your competitors...it makes you look like the idiot.  If anything, it made Ethan and I miss Kabuto.  Long live Curtis!

The Rainbow Connection

Dear Daddy, thank you for...

Randomness:
I would say that my family is known for our random sense of humor.  We enjoy teasing each other and making what we consider to be witty comments about everything from dead armadillos to representative Anthony Weiner.  Doesn't every family think a dead armadillo should be sucked up into the underbelly of a car using the power of the air conditioning?  There is nothing better than when my dad makes a random comment at the dinner table and all of us end up in hysterical laughter.  We are very lucky that it happens pretty often!

Scaring my dates:
My dad's goal was to be the biggest pain in the rear end to my boyfriends, but the best father-in-law to my husband.  He greeted my dates by showing off his gun collection.  It was embarrassing at the time, but it served its purpose.  The hazing process made me end up with my husband who respects me and my family.

Letters:
During major events in my life, I have received wonderful letters from my father.  I can barely even write about them without tearing up.  These letters mean more to me than most of the conversations I have had in my life.  When times get tough, I can always read a letter from my dad and feel better.

My Brothers and Sister:
Both my parents did (and are still doing) an amazing job raising us. I can only imagine the mayhem they dealt with after having four kids in five years. When we were little, we didn't always get along.  I am still bitter about my brothers riding their bikes over an intricate chalk house I drew on our back patio. My sister is still scarred from the things I yelled at my brothers after seeing the tire marks. We still argue, but try and remember the lessons our parents taught us. Friends may come and go, but family is forever. I am lucky to have such a wonderful family.

Daddy, thank you for everything.  Thank you for loving me, Mommy, Sammy, Kelly, Christian, and Ethan Samuel.  You are an amazing father.

ACHOO

Ever walked out of a dark movie theatre into the light and felt the need to sneeze?  Apparently, it only happens to about a quarter of the population.  My dad, Baby Ethan, and I are in that lucky 25%.  My family has always described the phenomena as "the sun getting you", but apparently the technical term is the photic sneeze reflex.

So, what does that mean for us photic sneeze reflexees?  Basically, our nerves are playing a game of telephone.  Our eyes tell our brains to constrict our pupils.  Our brain didn't hear our eyes correctly and interprets the message as "you have a nose irritant.  sneeze, now!".

The most interesting thing I found out when reading about the photic sneeze reflex, is that many people who have this issue have other issues with how light is interpreted by the brain.  Apparently, it is no coincidence that my dad and I can't be in a room with any sort of strobing effect.  Sometimes a flickering candle, is enough to make me feel a migraine coming on.  Let's all cross our fingers that Baby Ethan only experiences the sneezing aspect of this phenomena!

I hope this sheds some light (haha!) on the photic sneeze reflex, also known as Autosomal Dominant Compelling Helioophthalmic Outburst Syndrome (ACHOO Syndrome).

Iguana Castles

While I was pregnant, I googled the weirdest things.  When I looked at my google history, I always wondered what people would think of me if they were using my computer and stumbled upon things I had searched.  Now that I'm not pregnant and am googling slightly less odd things, I thought I would share my last five googles....

Castle ABC
My husband, Ethan, gets really into TV shows.  If you have spoken with him recently, you've probably heard about Veronica Mars, Psych, Friday Night Lights, Royal Pains, or maybe even Game of Thrones (which will be the next obsession).  Last night, we watched the season finale of Castle and Kate Beckett was shot at the end of the show!  I had to google it to make sure that it was not the series finale.  According to google, it looks like Kate Beckett will probably survive the gun shot and Castle will be around for another season.  Phew!

Diverticulitis
Lately, lettuce has become my arch enemy.  Every time I eat it, I get a sharp pain in my stomach that lasts for hours.  After my mom threw out diverticulitis as an option, I decided to google it.  Since the pain is not in my lower abdomen and I am not over 40,  I don't think I'm a victim of Diverticulitis (or Diverticulosis...thanks, google!).

English Boodle
I am obsessed with my English Bulldog, Fiona.  My mom is obsessed with her Toy Poodle, Lucy.  Naturally, while sitting around the table the other day, the topic of a Bulldog / Poodle mix came up in conversation.  I immediately thought of a Bulldog with an Afro.  Unfortunately, the mix is not exactly what I pictured.  Fortunately, it is still cute!

Loud Noise and Babies

I am typically a pretty laid back mom.  I probably don't worry about things as much as I should.  I took Baby Ethan on a plane when he was three weeks old.  In retrospect, his immune system probably wasn't up for that trip yet (but he didn't get sick!).  I also like exposing him to new social situations (aka drinking establishments when we are on vacation).  However, when we went into Sloppy Joe's, my mommy instincts kicked in.  It was too loud.  Just as I read that babies should not be exposed to things over 90 decibels, Baby Ethan started to cry.  I got out of my chair to stroll him outside, but my dad was even quicker than I was!  He had Baby Ethan in his arms outside in seconds.  I guess his SamPa instincts kicked in.  He met another baby out of the street who was also escaping the Sloppy Joe's volume.  It was his first date.

How long can an iguana stay underwater?
Did you know that an iguana can stay underwater for 28.7 minutes?  I found out after a five foot long iguana took a swan dive over my mom and sister's boyfriend and into a pool.  As it turns out, my mom can get out of a pool very quickly.  I love Key West.

The Goat and the Bureau

Have you ever noticed that you say certain words or phrases that no one else around you says?  I have.  In this post, I will explore why I say the following: Channel Changer and Bureau

Channel Changer
Most of my contemporaries refer to this modern day miracle as the remote (or the Goat...watch Muppets from Space if you need an explanation).  After a little bit of googling, I found out that there is very little history on the term and the only people concerned with this debate are two teenagers who started a group of facebook, one of which is flicking off the camera in the group picture (classy).  In their findings only eight people of thirty used the phrase "Channel Changer".  I delved deeper into google and found out that "Channel Changer" was used to describe the dial that changed channels on old television sets.  As it turns out, I am using a remote control and not a channel changer!  I think I'll just refer to it as the Goat going forward.

Bureau
I am not referring to an organization (i.e. the Federal Bureau of Investigations).  I am referring to what others call a dresser or if you're from the south, a chest of drawers.  Google revealed that the term bureau comes from aristocratic England and is more commonly used in large cities.  That explains it!  I would like to thank my mother for the word bureau.  My mother grew up outside of Washington, D.C. (aha!  large city!).  Her ancestors came to St. Mary's City, Maryland with Lord Baltimore on the Ark and Dove in 1634.  My guess is that Lord Baltimore probably said bureau.

So, the words channel changer and bureau may have gone out of style more than a hundred years ago, but they are still alive and well in my family.  Time to fold some laundry and put Baby Ethan's clothes away in his bureau!

Noel Update

Noel (aka Frankenkitty) is now resting comfortably.  She came home from surgery Monday afternoon wearing a sweater made of gauze.  The vet told me to keep it on her so she would not try to groom her incision.  They gave me an Elizabethan collar in case the sweater came off.  Apparently Noel was not a fan of the gauze sweater fashion statement.  She wriggled out of it as soon as I got her home from the vet.

The sweater came off to reveal thirty staples, four tubes, and countless stitches.  The bizarre part was that she seemed totally unfazed.  After she took her sweater off, she was happy as a clam.  She walked right up to me and started purring. 

The purring stopped when I started chasing her around the room with the Elizabethan collar.  After cornering her in the bathroom (with the baby screaming from the other room), I was able to slip the collar over her head.  She was pissed.  Have you ever put clothing on a cat?  If you haven't, you should know that they walk backwards.  I don't get it, but they do.  After walking around the bathroom backwards for at least five minutes, Noel decided to pout underneath my bed.

Later that evening, I bribed her out with some vanilla ice cream (the only thing she likes more is string cheese).  I set her up on the end of my bed with her favorite blanket and she forgave me for putting the collar on her.

The craziest thing about all of this is that she is more bothered by the collar than the fact that she had a fourth of her mid-section removed.  It is amazing how resilient she is. She is happily knocking things off of my bedside table just like before.  She even managed to drink out of the toilet a day after surgery. 

At this point the only thing we can do is wait and see if the cancer makes a reappearance.  Unfortunately, it does come back in over 70% of cases.  I consider the surgery a success because at the very least, I have bought her time and the knowledge that I did what I could to help her.

This whole experience has made me realize how fragile humans are in comparison to animals.  If anything comparable happened to me, I would be in the hospital for weeks  The only real advantage we have is our intelligence (and sometimes that's questionable).

"Awesome Things" - Blogging inspired by a Blog

I appreciate the small and random things in life.  So, it is easy to see why the following blog is entertains me:
http://1000awesomethings.com/

Today my "awesome thing" is customer service providers who don't suck (sorry for using that word, but "sucking" is probably the nicest way I can describe most service providers...anyone ever talked to Comcast on the phone?).

About two months ago, I had unknowingly been flying through EZPass lanes, while my EZPass sat velcroed to my windshield doing nothing.  It wasn't until my friend and I were on our way downtown (my first night out since having the baby!), that I realized the EZPass wasn't working.  It's always a good feeling when the green light doesn't flash and you're forced to put the car in reverse, pull into a different lane, and scrounge up enough cash to pay the toll operator.

Last week the toll violations started rolling in!  I've never seen so many pictures of the back of my car.  Today, I bit the bullet and decided to call EZPass.  I'll save you the details, but it was my fault that the EZPass did not work.  I was ready to fork over the money when the customer service representative told me that since I didn't realize I was running the tolls, she would waive all the fines.

So, thank you to EZPass for my "awesome thing".  Did I mention my wait time on the phone was less than thirty seconds?  Awesome!

Noel

At the end of my pregnancy, Noel, my eight-year-old cat, had a small lump on her side.  I figured it was a fatty tumor since her behavior hadn't changed.  She was her usual self - tinkling in corners, begging for ice cream, and knocking glasses of water off of my bedside table and onto me in the middle of the night. 

When I feed Baby Ethan, Noel comes and sits on my lap.  During Ethan's Wednesday morning breakfast, I pet her and realized that the one lump had turned into many lumps (one of them was the size of a grape).  By that afternoon, I was sitting in the vet with Noel, listening to the vet explain the three different cancers that she may have.  As I tried not to burst into tears, the vet said things like, "It's unfortunate that the lumps are not in one of her legs, then we could just remove the leg".  After explaining that surgery may not even work, the vet told me a "nurse" would bring me a quote for the lumpectomy and that I should schedule the surgery with the receptionist.

So, I am now left with a difficult decision.  Logically, I should not be spending money on surgery for my eight year old cat.  I have a new baby.  I have a house.  I have expenses.  She is a cat.  She is a cat who I love.  I have known her for as long as I have known my husband.  It was just the two of us until we decided to add Blue, then Ethan, then Fiona, and now Baby Ethan.  We have been through a lot together in the past eight years.  She instinctively knows when I need comforting and is always there for me. She is not just a cat. She is my friend and the first member of my family.

On Monday, I am talking to a vet and family friend, who is going to give me his opinion.  Until then, I am stuck repeating this in my head: "She is a cat.  How can I put a price on a best friend and family member?  She is a cat...".

An Apology to Geese

As I drove to meet two friends for lunch with Baby Ethan crying in the backseat, I multi-tasked.  I had gotten myself and the baby out of the house in fifteen minutes.  The baby looked cute in his giraffe overalls and lime green shirt.  I hadn't showered and felt a sense of accomplishment for remembering to brush my teeth.

As Ethan quited down, I reached for my blush and started to apply my make-up.  Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed a bunch (a gaggle!) of geese by the side of the road.  There were tons of goose babies (goslings!) too.  I was instantly afraid that someone would hit them and wondered what kind of mother goose would take her babies by the side of the road.  As I judged the mother geese, I realized the irony.  I was putting on make-up while driving with my baby in the backseat.  What kind of person mother would take her eyes off the road to put on make-up?

I would like to formally apologize to geesekind for being so quick to judge and thank them for teaching me a lesson.

Why a blog?

I hate giving into to trends, but I have decided to start a blog.  In college, I majored in English Literature and considered doing a double concentration - Literature and Creative Writing.  I drank beer instead of taking the extra class.  Yum, Nattie!  I think it was a good choice considering an extra Creative Writing class wasn't going to help me bring in the big bucks (because English Majors typically bring in the big bucks).

Anyway, I have always loved to write and now seems like a good time in my life to pick it up again.  I am a mommy to a hilarious three month old, who I love.  I have recently gone from working 40 hours a week to 10 hours a week at a job that has been my primary focus and sense of accomplishment for the past 5 years.  With all this change, I think it will be nice to set aside some time to reflect and do something I enjoy.

I will be writing about anything that strikes me as funny.  Over the past few years, I have said, "I wish I had a blog so I could write about this" multiple times - like the day I drove to the ENT for vertigo and my GPS took me on the exit, then off the exit, then on the exit, then off the exit....you can see how helpful that was.  When I finally got the office, I stepped out of my car, only to be greeted by a soggy used Elmo diaper under my foot.  When I walked in, my doctor had a surgery that ran late and I had to reschedule.  I need a blog so I can write about these dirty diaper days!