Great idea!

I've noticed I have a pretty great group of women (about 9 if my comments are any indication) that regularly check my blog. So, what better thing do to in a group of women than have a good old fashioned recipe exchange!?! After all, we're all busy, right? The only rule is that it has to be quick and easy (that means no gourmet pumpkin crap, got it Smart a$$ mom??? No homemade, vine ripened what-chu-ma-callits- E! ) You're both gonna make me look bad!

I'll go first. This is a little masterpiece I cook up a lot lately. Almost every night in fact! I hope you enjoy!

Start off with one Pepcid AC. You know the killer heartburn is coming, so drop this bad boy about 5 PM, or as soon as you get home.Next, fill a glass with water. Add one heaping teaspoon (no... on 2nd thought let's make it a tablespoon) of Metamucil. Go ahead and get the economy sized jar because I assure you, you're really gonna like this. Stir it up into a nice sludgy consistency. If you are feeling super Martha Stewarty you can compliment the ensemble with a nice orange wedge. Chug this concoction. Yes, you do in fact have to chug it- there is some warning on the label that says if you don't it might expand in your throat and you'll die... savor the mock-citrusy goodness...


Fill glass with water. Don't mind the grainy residue that now coats the inside of your glass. This is perfectly normal and only the highest powered dish washer can remove it. Don't think about the fact that the inside of your intestines look the same way right now. Grab a prenatal vitamin and throw in an extra iron pill for good measure. Just pretend they are jelly beans. It's super fun.


Realistically, the Pepcid isn't going to be much help yet, so go ahead and down 2 Rolaids. They are gonna taste like chalk, I'm not gonna lie. But just get the minty flavored kind and pretend you're having a mojito on the beach.

I hope you enjoy this as much as I do!

A BIG ZERO!!!

There are certainly times in our lives when ZERO is a very good thing. Like... ZERO percent interest. I mean, what sane person hasn't ever purchased a spur of the moment furniture set without consulting with spouse "per se" because it was just so stunning and of course, ZERO percent interest! Right! and then there's that ever classy pick-up line, "Why don't you drop that ZERO and get with a hero?" Works every time. I think there is even such a thing as a Hershey's ZERO bar. I've never actually eaten one, but if it's got chocolate in it it's got to be good! And who can logically dispute the goodness of a Cherry Coke ZERO. Clearly, no one can. I mean, there's always a small chance it might wear the enamel off of your teeth and rot away the lining of your stomach giving you excruciating bleeding ulcers, but it doesn't have any calories and it's so cherry-ee- so obviously that's a good thing.


But on a pessimistic day I could argue that ZERO is NOT a good thing. Like ZERO degrees. Here in the Midwest it will soon get below ZERO, snot freezing in your nose is actually not a good thing at all. A ZERO account balance is a bad thing no matter how you slice it. ZERO gas in your gas tank, ZERO pounds lost and ZERO missed calls when you are waiting for that all important call- those are all bad. But you wanna know what else is really bad??? You wanna know what else can really get you down? When you are bursting at the seams, gonna seriously lose your mind, can't possibly get any bigger, give me a burrito right now, pregnant, and your doctor has the gall to tell you that your all important baby chute is stuck at ZERO. ZERO PEOPLE!! If you don't understand the dire situation that puts me in let me try to explain. Each centimeter is like a streamer at a party. Keep adding them and things really start to get festive. Before you know it, you have a Mariachi Band and then WHAM, a baby arrives. It's basic science people! I don't have any streamers, I don't have any margaritas, and I certainly don't have a Mariachi band!!!!

Super discouraging...

Conversations with a 3-year old

Daughter: "Mommy, my foots are wrinkling."

Me: "They're what honey?"

Daughter: (Looking perplexed and uncomfortable) "My foots are wrinkling... I think. Wrinkling??? What are they doing Mommy?"

Me: "Ummm, I'm not sure honey, let me see--- (investigates cute little baby feet)--- are they wriggling?"

Daughter: "Yes, wriggling, they are wriggling. I think they have bugs in them!" (looking distraught- she hates bugs)

Me: "Bugs? Let me see honey." (there are, of course no bugs on said feet) "There aren't any bugs on your feet honey."

Daughter: "No, they are IN my foots Mommy! They are wriggling IN my foots!"

And there you have it- a sleepy 3-year old discovering what it feels like to have your foot fall asleep for the first time, as she sits on the couch munching Cheerios and watching Curious George in the morning!

Gratuitious jammie shot:

Come on baby light my fire...

Who would have ever thought one little electronic device could cause so much tension in a household! It's not the remote, it's not the phone, it's not even the stove- though Lord knows I wouldn't complain if the ol' husband took over a little more of the cooking duty.

Let me just set the stage for you:

Me: (sleeping soundly)

Husband: (sound of bedroom window shutting at 3 AM)

Me: "Hey! What are you doing?"

Husband: (clearly disgusted) "Shutting the window, it's freakin' freezing!"

Me: (clearly taken aback at such madness) "What! Do NOT shut that window!" (said with the force that only a pregnant woman can muster!)

Husband: "It's 42 degrees outside. I'm going to turn the heat on."

Me: The HEAT! What! The HEAT!!?? Are you insane- can't you see I am sweating here!"

Husband: "Well... it's freezing in here and I am turning the heat on."

Me: (outraged) "Go sleep on the couch if you're so cold. I'm leaving this window open!!!"

OK, so maybe my internal thermostat is running a little on the hot side right now. Perhaps I wouldn't have believed it based on the husband incident alone, but when the V.P. of my building came strolling through the other day complaining of the "chill in the air" and how the boiler must not be keeping up, I was a little panicked seeing as how my office window was wide open, just cooling things off a little. As she made the rounds to investigate the sudden coldness in the building, I quickly slid my window shut and recommended she take it up with the building maintenance staff, because maybe there was a problem with the boiler after all...

So there you have it- the thermostat is the source of all evil in my household right now. When the husband isn't looking, I sneak over and turn it down a few degrees. When I'm off sweatin' my belly off, he's sneaking in an turning it back up. It's a constant battle. And excuse me, but on top of everything else I am suffering with, shouldn't my comfort and temperature trump all right now??? I thought so...

And then, 176 dollars later...

OK, I've been calling it cleaning, shopping, organizing and preparing. But you, you husbands and friends and family insist on saying I am nesting. So there, I admit, I am nesting. Do you hear me Karma? Do you hear me oh Gods of Labor??? I am nesting, OK! That means I am ready. I am rearin' to go, to get this little basketball-sized baby out to meet the world!

A necessary part of this "nesting" process was my recent trip to Target. I'm telling you what, as my cute, single, young friend Jamie says, "Jeez, these baby people are EXPENSIVE!" And don't I know it! I just got the essentials folks- back me up here J! Nothing cutesie or fuzzy or pastel or anything. Nothing with animals, nothing with bears or ducks or monkeys or anything! We're talking diapers, infant Tylenol, burp clothes, diaper rash cream, nursing pads--- I know, wonderful that we even need to think about that, right--- and oh yeah, about 180 batteries. Because you know, turns out you need them for everything- baby monitors, thermometers, baby swings, bouncy seats, play gyms, etc.

So, there I was, not even a cartful- just a mere 2 bags worth of stuff and the crazy lady at the register tells me I owe her $176! A hundred and seventy six dollars!!?? Oh wait, let me put the platinum, diamond encrusted wipes warmer back, now how much do I owe you??? Crazy Target lady! Turns out it really was $176...

When it was all said and done, I was feeling a little sick about dropping nearly 200 bucks on the numerous items whose sole purpose it is to catch, clean up or dispose of human waste. But then I got home and opened that little package of newborn diapers. And they were so tiny and so white and smelled so good... and frankly I just CANNOT WAIT to hold that tiny little person!!!

Could I be any more impressive?

OK, I'm going to admit something here, but before I do let me give you my disclaimer. You have to understand that I am 3 weeks away from giving birth to a child- therefore when I look straight down this is what I see:Now you see what I see. A big ol' bump- nothing more nothing less. Sometimes it's wriggling and jerking around. Sometimes it has stains of food on it because everything I drop or drip lands right on it. But that it's- a bump.

So I'm sure you can easily understand how I did what I did last week. How even after meeting with 5 different clients, driving to the airport not once, but twice that day to pick up/drop off some clients, and of course stepping out for lunch, that I didn't realize that far below my belly bump, far below where my eyes can actually see- was this outstanding display of pregnancy fashion!!!
Awesome. So very awesome. I'm sure I made quite the impression clients that day. Exactly how many hours is 3 weeks? Quick someone, do that math!

Dear J. Lo

Dear J. Lo,

I just wanted to write to you to tell you I am sorry. I mean, about a year ago you were obviously very bursting at the seams pregnant. And well, aside from your sort of creepy, pale, tiny, vampire-like, husband, you are a pretty big celebrity and fashionista and all, so you can see why I said the things I said back then. Don't get me wrong, normally, you are very hip, you can rock a velour track suit like nobodies business. And who else could have a whole nation using the word "Bennifer" overnight, while keeping straight faces?

Given all that, maybe you can understand why I was so harsh in my judgements of you last year, in your final weeks of pregnancy. Most celebs just starve themselves and do extra spinning classes for 9 months, so they naturally maintain that, "are you shitting me she's HOW far along?" look that we all crave. But you were different.

Can you really blame me for thinking your newly distorted features looked like a caricature of a caricature of the real you? I mean, when your face gets so distorted that I can no longer tell whether I am looking at an A-list celebrity or just another bloated mom at birthing class, then you know things are extreme. Right? But who am I to judge really? I mean, we all look like a freakshow, circus side-act, clown ass, funhouse version of ourselves once in awhile.

Well, anyway I am writing to ask your forgiveness. I'll admit, I was perhaps too harsh. I see now the err of my ways. I am reminded that karma just HATES pregnant women. The jack'o'lantern on my neighbors front step has more definition in it's cheekbones than I do right now. Even my nose is pregnant. Who knew, a nose can grow exponentially right along with uterus. Funny Karma... very funny.

Anyway, I'm sorry for the mocking laughter when I saw this photo of you. Give my best to Dracula. Mark and the kids!

The "ICK" heard 'round the world!

So those of you that know me, know that I travel quite a bit for my job. I'm in the car a lot, I eat out a lot, I listen to audio books a lot, I read maps a lot, and I stay in hotels a lot.

With all of my traveling I like routines. I drive on roads that I know. I stop at gas stations I've been to before- especially if they have crunchy ice! And I stay at the same hotel. There are lots of reasons this makes sense. I can sign up for their rewards program. They offer warm fresh cookies each afternoon. They give me a free newspaper in the morning, to enjoy with my free hot breakfast. It's a nice place, OK.



Fast forward to this week. I check in to my hotel. I go to my room, where I am pleased because they have just upgraded to plasma TV's in each room, that very afternoon in fact! Always good to see your hotel is making an investment in their future right? Somehow gives me a peace of mind, you know, that they care enough to go that extra distance In fact, last spring my hotel upgraded their pool area. The fall before that they redecorated all of their rooms. Nice establishment... huh? Mighty good thing I can now watch my programs on a nice flat plasma screen. HEAVEN FORBID they spend a little extra time CLEANING each room so that when unsuspecting travelers plop down on the bed to check their email for a few hours, they don't discover creepy, crawly, BUGS crawling over their ever expanding baby-incubator of a belly!

I kid you not, I cannot make stuff like this up. Once I took a closer look, I noticed that beyond the fluffy, white duvet covet there were tiny, skittering BED BUGS everywhere! I did what any sane person would do. I screamed like a 12-year old girl, dropped a few four-letter words, grabbed my stuff and hightailed it for the lobby where I promptly muttered to the manager, "I need to talk to someone about my room." After explaining that my room was infested with tiny insects he says to me defensively, "Well, what kind of room is it?"

WTF! What kind of room? I don't know! The NOT clean kind. The NOT bug-free kind. The NOT ever going to see my face in it again kind!

I am severely traumatized people. I did manage to survive my ordeal and stayed in a dive motel down the road. The TV was so old there was no remote. The contraption fastened to the wall meant to cool the room rattled all night and kept me awake. (HA! Like I was going to actually sleep with images of tiny, crawly things feasting on my skin.)