Tell that to George Zipp

Yesterday, J and I overheard this guy we know talking about a couple who, as he put it, "wanted to celebrate New Year's by buying some crack." I'm sorry, what now? I suppose I am a sheltered person, but what ever happened to going out to Applebee's to celebrate a special occasion? Having some chicken tenders and maybe an appletini? Sigh. I guess for some people the jumbo appetizer platter just isn't enough of a thrill. Me, I know how many fat calories and sodium are in something like that, so that's more than enough danger in my life, thank you very much. Next time I want to live on the edge, I'll go to Rally's and get one of their mystery meat, 99-cent hamburgers. Honestly, how can they charge that little for something with meat in it? It's all very suspicious.

I recall Central Park in Fall, how you tore your dress

We were driving home from dinner the other night on the main road that our street branches off of. Now, in the summertime, you can see all sorts of people walking down this street, but there's one intersection where all the hoodrats go to be seen and shot at. So as we were passing that intersection, I noticed a couple teenaged girls pushing a baby stroller. Sitting in there was a very cute baby that looked to be about 9 months old, I'd guess. And under one arm, the baby had a 2-liter of Faygo redpop, and under the other arm he had a 2-liter of Faygo orange pop. Something about that just struck me as so ghetto. But, on the up side, at least the baby wasn't smoking. And you have to give it to the girls for using a stroller to multitask like that. Solid.

Lil J also had his 4-month appointment yesterday at the pediatrician's. He passed with flying colors. We have to keep an eye on his croup, but he's measuring really well. He used to be in the 25th to 50th percentiles, but now he's up to the 75th for height and weight. Bruiser! Oddly though, his head is still tiny. But, as a peanut-headed individual myself, I view that as a mark of good breeding.

Sometimes even a picnic's no picnic

I didn't get to see 30 Rock or Lost at all last night because I was completely passed out by then, but I did manage to watch The Office even though I missed a lot of dialogue because I had the sound turned down. But, somehow, that made it even funnier when Toby leapt over that gate with the grace and agility of a young gazelle. Toby. And I have to admit that I was a little surprised that Ryan is on the blow. Although you have to figure only drugs could motivate someone to have that kind of facial hair. So it does sort of make sense.

Oh, and my legs failed last night! I was asleep in bed in what seemed to be a pretty standard position (I mean, I wasn't doing noctural yoga or anything), so when Lil J started to cry around 2 a.m., I stood up and immediately hit the floor because my legs were asleep. Circulation problem! J actually had to get up out of bed, lift me up off the floor and put me back in bed. It was actually kind of a funky feeling...although I am a little concerned that I might have broken a toe and I just don't feel it yet. But what really stinks is that I can't make fun of my older sister anymore--that happened to her once when we were in high school, and I've been teasing her about it for 19 years. Dang it. Vengeance is hers.

Give me some of your tots

I need to remember to set the DVR to tape The Office at 9, 30 Rock at 9:30 and Lost at 10. At least, I think that's the schedule. There is just no earthly way I'm going to get to watch all those shows live. One or two is possible depending on when Lil J decides to go to sleep. His schedule is really all over the place since everything went wacky this weekend. And this probably falls into the category of Too Much Information, but he's not nursing real well, so feeding him isn't the cakewalk that it used to be. It's not his fault--I got so dehydrated when I had the flu that my body's not producing the amount of breastmilk it used to. And, really, it worries me sick that it won't come back and we'll have to switch entirely to formula. I know formula's just fine, but I really like the time that I have with him when he nurses. It used to be that I could rub his head and pat his back and he'd just lie there looking all serene. Now when I try to do that he bats away my hand, and I giggle thinking of him saying "Gawd, Mom, get off me! I'm not a baby! Geesh!"

Half a slice of dry toast and plain tea

J and I are back at work today. A little queasy, a little green under the gills, as it were, but we're here. Lil J is also improving. He still sounds a little croupy from time to time (especially right after he wakes up), but I think it's clearing up, as well. People, I just can't tell you how lucky I feel to be ingesting food again. All I had yesterday was a sandwich, two bowls of soup, half a bowl of cereal and some fruit salad, and I was GRATEFUL for that. Man. I can't remember being that sick in years. In fact, last time I remember having the flu like that was back in '02 when I moved from SC to Ohio and convinced myself I'd caught West Nile virus from the mosquitoes that lived in my trash cans. Everybody keeps saying to me "Well, you're never as sick as when you have kids" and "Wait until he gets into the petri dish known as elementary school." This completely frightens me. I'm too old and frail to get roseola or scarlet fever. I'm afraid I'd turn into Beth from Little Women and have to lie on a couch all day, wrapped in a blanket, wanting to play the piano. I don't even know how to play the piano!

Ugh

Let me tell you something, it has been a really craptastic couple of days. Lil J spent the night in the hospital on Thursday for croup, but he seemed to be improving until Saturday morning, when he started throwing up everything he ate. So we took him to the pediatrician, who sent us back to the hospital, where we had to spend another night. The poor little guy is doing better, but apparently J and I caught a flu bug somewhere along the line, so he and I were up Sunday night puking our insides up. And I won't even get started on my bloody diarrhea either. Oy. I swear, I was sure I'd caught the ebola virus and my organs were liquefying. So yesterday was spent being laid up in bed, unable to move while Lil J's Grandma watched him for us. I'm still really weak today. I assume I'm dehydrated, and I can't eat much either. But at least I'm not throwing up anymore. I just don't appreciate enough not throwing up in my daily existence. But, if you can, keep your fingers crossed for us that the three of us are finally over these illnesses. I don't know how much more of this I can take.

All my friends know the low rider

One of my recent work assignments was to find images of historic American cars, and it turned out to be a pretty fun project. Oddly enough, I have developed an affinity for those massive, gas-guzzling sedans from the 70's. So much so that I'm seriously thinking about buying a Buick the next time I get a car. Which actually won't be for another year or two at least, but I really think I'm going to look for a car that has a trunk the size of my current car. Awww yeah. And I can rationalize that I'll need a bigger car because if J and I are lucky enough to have a second kid, we won't be able to fit two car seats into my little, 2-door coupe. And I don't like minivans or SUV's so I HAVE TO HAVE a boat. My SC homies might remember a brief period when I was driving my Grandpa's old Lumina. That didn't last long, but I distinctly remember how comfortable that car was. It was like driving a couch. Sweet.

I really hope I can stay up long enough tonight to watch 30 Rock and The Office. I doubt I will because I was asleep by 9 last night (seriously, it wasn't even fully dark out yet), but I'm going to give it the ol' college try. They just crack me up. "That's what she said!"

Slimy pile of worm-ridden filth

Oooh, I tell you what, if somebody walked in here right now and gave me a cheese coney and lemon-berry slush from Sonic, I would not turn them down. It's only 9:45 in the morning, and I'm already thinking about lunch. I'm never going to lose the baby weight this way. But I was thinking about it this morning--on average, I've been waking up twice a night, an hour each time, for the past 4 months, and I've somehow managed to adapt to that without falling asleep while working or driving (yay me!). So if I'm craving a cinnamon roll and an Icee, I feel like I owe it to myself to eat them and not feel guilty about it. Of course, I realize this is the precise kind of thinking that could lead to me weighing 300 pounds eventually, but I just don't care anymore. If somebody starts making fun of my size, I'll just pound them with my massive upper arms. It would be akin to being whomped in the head with a 7-pound ham, I kid you not.

I don't know...fly casual

Back when I was a teenager full of grandiose ideas, I told myself I'd never diet, wear makeup or be one of those parents who only talked about their kids. I'm 0 for 3!

Ok, and I don't want to get too political here, but this whole issue about Hillary Clinton and John McCain saying Barack Obama doesn't understand the blue collar worker like they do is total baloney. NONE of the Presidential hopefuls understands the blue collar worker. If they actually expect us to believe that any one of them bowls regularly whilst drinking Pabst and wearing John Deere tshirts, they are being patently ridiculous. Why oh why can't they just be honest and admit that they all look down on middle America? Politicians. This is why I gave up on ever wanting to be Governor of Ohio. I'm just not that good at kidding myself.

There are Zingers in the vending machine!

I was just surfing around the internet since I'm working in the library this afternoon, and so far we've had about 5 people come in, and they all wanted to check out the same thing. What are the odds of that? Well, when you are surrounded by overworked, procrastination-prone artists, the odds are pretty good, actually. Anyway, I ran across this opinion piece on The Onion's website. I was laughing so hard, I got all sweaty. But anyone who's ever been a new parent or babysat an infant will understand why.

I think she should go back to GREENBOW, ALABAMA!

I didn't get to see all of 30 Rock and The Office last night because they came on when I was putting Lil J to bed, but the parts I did get to see were cracking me up. What a horrible dinner party. Seriously, if I went to someone's house and they said we weren't eating dinner until 10, I'd have to "go to the bathroom" and sneak out to my car to get my emergency stash of candy canes. Parties are supposed to be fun, and most people I know aren't that much fun when they're starving. And that is precisely why you don't hear about a lot of parades and picnics taking place in Africa. If you haven't had protein in a while, I think you're much more likely to start wars with neighboring tribes simply out of crankiness. Oooh, I think I'm on to another idea that'll get me my second Nobel Prize--developing protein in a cheap pill form that will eradicate war all over the world. Yes! I'm just full of ridiculous yet oddly practical ideas this week.

Rule number one about Fight Club: never talk about Fight Club

I keep seeing these news stories this week about high school girls getting into fist fights with other girls, teachers, pit bulls, etc... and it really surprises me. I'm trying to remember hearing about any of the girls I knew in high school getting into a fight like that and I'm coming up blank. Heck, even the tough girls of my high school (the ones who wore a lot of black, smoked and did that co-op program) didn't get into trouble for fighting. Geez, either we were an extremely mild grouping of 2000 teenagers or kids these days are going nuts. I wouldn't even have known how to throw a punch when I was 16. Maybe they're watching too much UFC. That could be it.

I woke up in the middle of a dream last night, and I was wearing the dumbest outfit in it. I was living in Florida, working in a library and I was sporting an oversized, short-sleeve white button down shirt and cream-colored lace culottes. That is an atrocious ensemble. Why do I dream in such bad fashion sense? You'd think I'd make myself look better. This is troubling.

I do not think that means what you think it means

I've never tried to post a video on here before, so I hope this works. This is a really short cell phone video I took of Lil J in his exersaucer on Sunday. After watching this about, oh, 800 times, I'm convinced that baby yawns could be the answer to the world's problems. I'm going to write a book titled Tired Babies=World Peace and then I will sit back and quietly wait for my Nobel Prize to arrive. I mean, really--how could anyone want to pick up a gun after watching this? It's inconceivable!

That'll do, pig. That'll do.

We've started watching Cash Cab in the evenings because, honestly, you can only watch the same Simpsons reruns so many times before you want to stab yourself. But Cash Cab is great, especially if you enjoy the trivia. Yesterday's episode featured this family of contestants from Kentucky, and one of the first questions was something like "Name the city that elected Ray Nagin as mayor in 2004." And, I kid you not, the teenage son answered in this thick country accent "New Jersey?" All I could do was smack my forehead and sigh. Of course, then we started making fun of him mercilessly, and I've been answering all of J's questions to me with "New Jersey?" ever since. I'm quite sure he's sick of it now, but I still think it's hilarious. New Jersey. Ha!

By the way, I think I caught Lil J's cold. My head is so stuffed up with mucus that my neck is getting sore from supporting the extra weight. I also haven't been sleeping so great. In fact, I'm so tired, I think I'm going to go visit the city of New Jersey. See, it never gets old!

That's "Dr. Jones" to you, doll

He's a superstar! I love the pictures of Lil J sleeping. I often wonder what he dreams about since he doesn't know about things like tornadoes, test anxiety or rock bands (there was a while there in high school when I kept dreaming I was Bono. I have no idea). But, whatever he's envisioning, it sure must be peaceful. He actually wakes up happy most mornings, too, so I bet it's something fun like floating on a cloud with a Panda and eating fluffernutters. Mmm...fluffernutters. I'm still keeping my peanut consumption to a minimum because of that whole peanut allergy thing, and it is no fun at all. I ate a Drumstick ice cream cone last night and was like "Sweet heavens to Betsy!"

Word to your mother

I can't stop posting baby pictures! This is another one taken by J's mother...I know, the bib kind of gave it away. We have a set of bibs that say "I *heart* my" Mom, Dad, Grandma and Grandpa, but it occurs to me that we've never put Lil J in the Grandpa one even though J's dad sees him pretty often. Grandpas really do get the shaft sometimes, don't they? They're the unsung hero of the baby world. I mean, sure, sometimes they bring it on themselves by being really crotchety, but you hardly ever hear someone win an Oscar and then make a point to thank their Grandpa in the acceptance speech. Darn shame, that. Because the one Grandpa I grew up with was always giving us candy orange slices, quarters and soup. He was pretty cool.

This is how we do it

Here's Lil J getting his groove on. Well, I don't know if he was actually dancing while his Grandma took this picture, but I like to think of him whirling his arms above his head and doing the "Whoo whoo!" shout like all the club kids. I hope that one day when he's old enough, Lil J will be one of those guys who's not afraid to dance. Too many dudes are self-conscious about shaking it. I've always appreciated a guy who will get out there and do the lawnmower with reckless abandon. That's living, my friends.

6A 4EVR

When I was driving back from lunch today, I saw a license plate that said "BTLS FAN." My first thought was "Buttless Fan? What a weirdo." But I'm thinking now he was probably a Beatles fan. That would make more sense.

Crayon in brain syndrome

Lil J caught his very first cold this weekend. He was coughing, sneezing and congested on Saturday and Sunday, but he's already getting better and acting more like his usual self. I just feel fortunate that he went this long without catching anything. I read somewhere that if a baby gets a fever in the first two weeks of life, they have to be hooked up to an IV, so I'm very glad we avoided that. We basically just vaporized the heck out of Lil J and that seemed to help. Whoa, I just reread that and it sounds like we shot him with a laser beam Star Trek-style. I mean, we used a Vicks vaporizer in the room with him all day. Sure, the paint's peeling and the cat's growing mold, but, frankly, my skin has never been softer.

I saw one of my favorite Simpsons last night. It's the one where Homer becomes a genius for a few days and starts to alienate all his friends with his obnoxious behavior. At one point, everybody's walking away from him and he yells "Where are you going? I'm your better! YOUR BET-TER!" For some reason, that always sends me into fits of convulsive laughter. Maybe because, deep down, I think I'm better than some people, too. There. I said it. I'm a jerk.