Are you suggesting coconuts migrate?

Ok, not once, but twice in the last day and a half, J and I have seen a man in a car pick up a hooker on our way to work. Can I just say "Ewww!"? What is wrong with people? I know prostitution has been around for thousands of years, but I just have to wonder if hookers have always been this strung out and skanky. I'm telling you, these chicks we've seen the last couple days are not looking good. They're staggering around the street looking like they haven't showered in a couple days (ewww!). The one this morning was actually in a bathing suit. Yuck. Everything about her screamed "yeast infection." It reminds me of a conversation I was having with a student worker a few weeks ago. She'd read a memoir by a former call girl/madam that convinced her that prostitutes are more sex therapists than skanks. Ahh, college kids. Was I ever that idealistic? Cause maybe I'm just old and jaded, but when I take a look at the hookers on our morning drive, the last thing I think is "licensed professional." My thoughts are definitely more in the "she's going to give that dog fleas" area.

Dad is great...give us the chocolate cake

I just saw that Rebecca Romijn is pregnant with twins. Dang, how many actresses is that lately who have had twins? I love how most of them are past 35, but they won't admit they had fertility treatments. I mean, COME ON, who are you trying to kid? When Angelina finally fessed up that they used in vitro, I read a statistic that said a woman her age (33) has a 1% chance of having twins naturally, but the odds go up to 25% if you use in vitro. So Jennifer Lopez, Marcia Cross, Julia Roberts, et al, I'm on to you. The jig is up!

And every time I use the phrase "the jig is up," I think of that episode of Roseanne where Roseanne, Dan and Jackie get high in the bathroom, eat pudding pops and almost get busted when the kids come home. When one of them is knocking on the bathroom door, Jackie (who's sitting in the tub) yells "the jig is up!" and whisks the shower curtain closed. Isn't that something that I can remember that so well, but I have forgotten how to spell my middle name before? Disturbing.

Baby Ray Ray

I am going to be so, so happy when Lil J can finally stop taking all three of these medications. He was on his antibiotic this weekend and had a really rough time sleeping all three nights he was on it. So last night I was pretty tired to begin with, and then the neighbors started with the curb ball around 8, and the *THWACK THWACK [pause] THWACKAWACK* of the basketball hitting the pavement was about to push me completely over the edge. So J talked me out of my two suggestions of shooting the neighbors or throwing fireballs at their house, and I finally fell asleep. And Lil J, being the sensitive, thoughtful baby that he is, gave me a break and only woke up twice last night. Sniff. I was so happy this morning, I felt like crying. And, oddly enough, that happiness coincided with a strong desire for waffles. Mmm, waffles.

Next Friday's topic: bizarre animal maimings!

This is probably pretty morbid for a Friday morning, but my friend at work and I were just talking about kids from our high schools who died weird deaths. She knew a guy who had just graduated and collapsed and died on a ski slope from some sort of heart defect. And she also knew a popular girl who went camping, got bitten by a bug, had some sort of crazy allergic reaction, went into a coma and died. Yikes! Makes me glad I'm an indoor girl. But I was telling her about a girl in my class who was pretty and popular and married her high school sweetheart only to die in her sleep from a brain aneurysm as a newlywed. We also had a kid a year younger than me in high school who died from huffing whip-its. That was just sad. It's bad enough when a young person dies and never gets a chance to live life. But then when they die from doing something stupid...what a waste. But I still think the strangest thing is that there were two girls from my graduating class who were paralyzed while partying in college. True story. One was swinging on a rope in somebody's back yard, fell and broke her back. The other one was on a porch that collapsed during a barbecue, I think. Isn't that weird? My high school class had over 550 kids in it, but that's still got to be astronomical odds.

It's hot dog Thursday here in the library. Score!

You know, I've been pleasantly surprised by how well Lil J's been taking to solid food. He's proving to be a pretty adaptable kid when it comes to different things. Sure, he had his momentary issue with peas, but even that has turned out to be ok. But we're having one big problem, and that is the fact that he will no longer drink formula. I don't know if he's thinks drinking formula is uncool or babyish or what, but he won't touch the stuff. I still breastfeed him at night and in the morning, so I know he's getting some of the liquid nutrition he needs, but I'm still worried that he's going to get dehydrated. We even let him have some water and juice during the day, but I know we can't rely on that. Any ideas? I'm going to ask the pediatrician about it next time we visit. I just wish it was 1974 and I was my Mom and I could throw some cow's milk at the baby without worrying about it. Our moms had it so good and they had no idea. I would totally trade in all the music-playing, light-up toys in the world for feeling secure that the things I let touch my kid's lips were not going to ultimately destroy him. Ugh. Stupid internet.

Pizza the Hut will be sending out for you!

I have that nagging feeling like somebody I know just had a birthday, but I can't remember who it is. I'm guessing that whoever it is, I probably don't talk to them anymore, because I can usually keep track of my friends' and family members' birthdays. But there's always that chance that a good friend is sitting at home right now seething that I forgot to send them a card. So, if you're that person, sorry 'bout that. I blame the aluminum-laced plaque building up in my brain from all those years of using deodorant and trying to chew the foil caps off aspirin bottles.

Seriously, is Mariah Carey ever going to stop dressing like a teenager in 1986? I don't know why she bothers me so much, but I often have fantasies of somebody shooting her with a stun gun and dragging her off to a remote desert island where I won't have to hear about her anymore. And, honestly, wouldn't she be happy on an island? She could cavort around with the butterflies, wearing only a bikini made of banana leaves, belting out tunes all day long and driving the monkeys to distraction with that high-pitched wail instead of me. I think that would be better for everyone involved...except for the monkeys...but they're asking for it. Monkeys.

Harry Potter and the Sorter of My V-necks

It was a weird weekend: our cable went out on Saturday morning and hasn't come back on since. I'm so hooked on tv (or at least having it on in the background while I chase Lil J around the living room) that I really had no idea what to do with myself. I hadn't realized how dependent I am on Time Warner for my news. We don't get the newspaper, so I usually watch the morning news programs and then check on cnn.com throughout the day to see what's going on in the world. For a while there on Sunday when it was just me and Lil J at home, I started getting all paranoid that somebody had manipulated the measles virus to cure cancer, but it ran amok, wiping out 95% of the human population and I was about to be eaten by hairless, aggressive zombies. See, this is what happens when I can't at least check in with Wolf Blitzer to be sure that civilization is still intact. On the up side, however, I did get to watch several DVDs I've been wanting to see. Which was nice.

Robble robble robble

We had a pediatrician appointment this morning. It went well. My mother-in-law went with us, and that was a huge help. It's amazing how much easier these trips are when you have somebody to help carry the three bags, open doors while you carry the 20-pound baby, warn you of incoming spit-ups, etc.... She was also taking some pictures of Lil J in the exam room while we waited for the doctor. He was shredding that paper they put on the exam table, and it was pretty cute. Unfortunately, she showed me some of the pics, and I was in the back, and I have now realized I look awful. Ugh. I might be a little hard on myself, but I look heavy, my hair is a mess and (not to get too graphic here but it must be said) I really liked my chest when it was smaller. I felt skinnier when I was 9 months pregnant, no joke. I think I'm going to get on the Sears website and see if I can buy a few muumuus. That's right. I'm giving up and completely letting myself go. Whoo!

I'm from the Lou, and I'm proud

I had something I wanted to write about today, but I can't remember it now. Lil J was up so much last night that the only thing running through my head right now is "shimmy shimmy cocoa puff, shimmy shimmy rah, shimmy shimmy cocoa puff, shimmy shimmy pow!" Seriously. It's like the mantra of a zombie that grew up in the 80's. You know what was cool about being 8 in 1982? Nothing that I can remember, actually. It's all a blur of cassette tapes, jelly bracelets and polyester socks. Am I making any sense? I can't tell. I'm completely delirious.

My Dad was in the Polish mafia...allegedly

I was going to blog this morning about more of the disturbing things I saw the neighbor kids do yesterday (and I will just say that seeing a 6-year-old hock up a loogie like an emphysemic old man is pretty gross), but I'm still in shock after reading Beth's post from today. I just hate it when something difficult happens to one of my friends. I often used to joke about how I cared so much about my friends that I had to limit the number that I had. Otherwise, it would just be too emotionally draining for me. And I was kidding, but there was a ring of truth to that. I just want to take you guys, wrap you up in insulating foam and somehow protect you from anything bad ever happening. And I can remember the couple times that someone hurt me, how I didn't understand how protective my friends got, but then I remembered that if someone had done that to them, I would have cut that guy's junk off without a moment's hesitation. So, Beth, keep me in mind if you ever need some junk removed. I think that if I just volunteered to do it without pay, you wouldn't go to jail. Just putting that out there.

Shooting some b-ball outside of the school

As J has spent his entire adult life successfully straddling the mean streets of the neighborhood we live in and the white collar professional world, I asked him yesterday to give me an honest assessment of the attractiveness of the girl who lives next door (the one who looks like she's about 17 but has a 6-year-old, 4-year-old and 2-year-old...heck, she could be 17, I don't know. These girls around here are lucky to make it to middle school from what I can tell). And after giving it a moment's thought, he said "Well, she's attractive in a trailer park way." I asked what that meant and he said "If you want your woman to be blonde and have lots of babies, she's a winner." Still needing clarification, I asked "So it wouldn't bother a man that she gets into street fights, yells all the time, chain smokes and curses like a sailor?" and he replied "Not if he lived in a trailer." Interesting. This requires further study.

I've also come to the conclusion that I wish I was related to Will Smith. I watched I Am Legend the other day and I was looking at the commercials for Hancock, and I've decided that he would be a lot of fun to hang out with at a barbecue. Plus, with all that money, I bet he throws fun birthday parties for his kids. Yeah, Will Smith would be an awesome cousin. That's all I'm saying.

She smelled like beef vegetable soup

I'm up at the circulation desk this morning because the librarian who normally works this shift called in sick, so I'm filling in. And by "filling in," I mean I'm sitting here hoping nobody needs anything because I don't really know what I'm doing. Which, the more I think about it, describes about 90% of the things I do every day. Nice. Interestingly, though, J is also in here trying to fix the connection between the library and the software that handles circulation. It's always very interesting for me to see him work. He's so business-like and no-nonsense right now, but I keep picturing him sitting across from me at the dinner table, opening his mouth and showing me his already-chewed green beans. I don't know how married couples who work at the same place actually get anything done. All I want to do is flick his ears and call him "Sally." But perhaps I'm just immature. Distinct possibility there.

Heroes on the half shell

I'm very sad that I can't figure out how to get videos to play right on this blog because I have some excellent video at home of Lil J crawling/scooting this weekend. Oooh, I ALSO have a downright hilarious video that J took of our neighbors fighting in the street that I have GOT to share with you someday. That was something--a couple weeks ago we heard yelling in the street, looked out and saw the girl next door getting into an actual fistfight with a woman who was visiting across the street. Since we suspect that neither woman eats that much (their diets seem to consist mainly of Mountain Dew, cigarettes and/or crack), nobody was really hurt, but it was so funny to watch. We couldn't stop laughing. I haven't seen that much hair pulling, spitting and flip-flop throwing since middle school.

But I digress. Here is at least a picture of Lil J doing his scoot on Sunday. And please take note of the extremely cute Hawaiian shirt and shorts ensemble that Alisa sent him. Everybody thought he looked quite sharp.

I find it coarse and vulgar

We have another ENT appointment for Lil J today. Here's hoping that everything is ok and we can start tapering off his medicine soon. I am hopeful. His breathing has been sounding good, so I think things are improving. But we shall see. If you don't hear from me for three days, you'll know where I'll be... (ugh. I can't even laugh at that because the thought is so depressing).

Here's an interesting factoid for you though: we got part, PART, of our bill from the last stay at the hospital. Granted, this included an operation and a short stay in the ICU, but not including all the doctors' fees, the bill was over $16,000!! Go ahead and clean up that coffee you just spit out. My word, that's a lot of money. If we didn't have health insurance, I don't know how we would pay that off. I doubt everything I own is worth $16,000. I know my car isn't. Especially since those little sociopaths next door have started running into it with their bikes for kicks. At best, those kids are only going to be convicted of misdemeanors, but I'm more inclined to think they have decades of orange jumpsuits, leg shackles and barbed wire ahead of them.

Give peas a chance

It's been one of those mornings at work. I came in, sat down, and found out that three professors have done things to stab me in the back or make me look bad since Thursday. And I wasn't even here! Jerks. I hate being put in that position where you have to defend yourself against something you couldn't possibly have been aware of and really had no part in other than to be the target of selfish meanies. And, let me just say, "meanies" is the only word I can think of right now that doesn't have a curse word in it. "*(^#@%" really more accurately describes how I'm feeling about these people.

Oh, but in funnier news, I finally found the first food that Lil J doesn't like. Peas. Who'd have guessed? I always thought peas were pretty tasty. Anyway, I gave him pea baby food last night, and he got this expression on his face that very clearly said "Mom, I'm going to open my mouth and get this down as best I can because I can tell you want me to, but I'm not going to enjoy it." In fact, at one point, he actually gagged. But I've just never seen him eat anything with less than an incredibly robust and hearty appetite. The peas, well, the peas actually made him hesitate to open his mouth. Of course, then J tried to feed him the peas again at night, and Lil J ate them just fine, making me look like a big, fat liar. Kids. Always messing with Mom.

Ham bone

So last night, J and I were busy fixing Lil J's crib bumper while he sat in the crib, and at one point I turned and looked at the baby because he was sounding even more excited than usual, and he was STANDING UP in the crib holding on to the music box part of his mobile! Ack! Lil J was all happy and proud of himself, while J and I were freaking out because he looked like he was about to flip over the side of the crib, and I personally had this flash montage going through my head of all the things I need to babyproof in the house now. We've already moved the crib mattress down, but I just can't believe how mobile he's become lately. A month ago he had just figured out how to sit unsupported, but now he's pulling himself up and quasi-crawling/scooting on the floor so he can grab all the shiny or furry things he sees. I think it's the steroids. Since we still have about 4 weeks of the medicine to go, I figure he'll be driving me to work by August and riding a bike around the neighborhood when he's 8 months old. Wonderful. I think I'm getting a migraine.

Put Edwina back in bowl

It's that time of year when the ambulances start idling on our street because they know as well as we do that somebody is going to get a bottle rocket in the eye at any time now. Yep, in our neighborhood, the 4th of July lasts for three weeks. While I don't mind the sight of patriotic bunting and the smell of charcoal grills, I do get a trifle perturbed by the firecrackers going off after 9 p.m.. Especially when Lil J is asleep and starts twitching when they go off, so I have to hold my breath that he doesn't wake back up. Seriously, 4th of July is starting to become my least favorite holiday for the following reasons: a) no turkey, b) the increase in boating mishaps and c) people get way too loud. Thank goodness for the hot dogs, or I'd completely write this one off.

Hey, I saw on the news that Starbucks is going to close something like 600 stores by next year. That sounded like a lot until the newswoman said they have 11,000 stores across the country. Good grief. You realize that if each of those stores sells just 25 cups of $4 coffee every day, Starbucks just made a million dollars? Dang. What a racket.

Ultimate Playpen Death Match

J, Lil J and I went to the mall on Saturday. I think J had seen me look disheveled for so many days in a row that he was desperately trying to motivate me to brush my hair...and it worked! I love a mall. So we went up to Tuttle and walked around for a while, and something about being there caused Lil J to erupt in bodily fluids. He actually spit up all over the floor in front of the belly ring kiosk. That's what he thinks of body piercing, apparently. But as we were leaving, we walked by the big play area for bigger kids and saw that it was closed because a kid had gotten hurt in there and was being looked at by the paramedics. Yikes! I've gone into those mall play areas before when my nephews were visiting, and, seriously, they're a war zone. I'm surprised any toddlers get out of there uninjured. The one at Tuttle is a space theme, so there are all these plastic planets and space shuttles to crawl on, and you have no idea how territorial the big kids get about the rings of Saturn. It's frightening how quick they are to push over a 2-year-old who even looks interested in coming over. I think when Lil J gets old enough, we're going to steer clear of the mall. I'm pretty sure that running with scissors would be safer.