February 9, 2007

FMA - Future MILFs of America

I gave in.  I joined the club.  I’ll be damned if I’m going to be flabby forever.

I’m going to be a MILF.  I can’t stop laughing, every time I type that.  It just inspires me to giggle uncontrollably.  I know, that’s a defeating attitude.  There’s just something about that acronym that sends me through the roof.

Must be American Pie. 

My weigh-in on Tuesday was great.  I lost another 0.8 pounds.  My total weight loss is 2.6 pounds.  I’ve lost more than that, but I didn’t officially start going to Weight Watchers meetings until January 23rd.  This is the official ruling.

Size 10, here I come.

Anna-Nicole is Dead?

I was only half surprised that Anna-Nicole Smith passed away yesterday.  I’d been watching her high-as-a-kite interviews on Entertainment Tonight the last few days and could sense something drastic was in the works for the poor girl.

When she was being interviewed she looked stoned and out of her mind.  It’s only fitting that something like death would become of her.

I’m rather sad.  The woman was not wired up to begin with and she dealt with so many tragedies; her son Daniel’s death, a paternity war with a lover and a lawyer (or is it the other way around?) and of course let’s not forget the feud between Anna and her dead husband’s son over a multi-million dollar estate.

Now her poor baby girl Danielyn will pay the price for things she had no control over.  Larry Birkhardt, Howard K. Stern and Anna-Nicole’s mother will be caught up in a media as well as courtroom drama battle regarding the custody of the child.

All I can say is, please dear Lord, don’t let them drag this out for all the world to see.  Yes, we’re curious, but the baby is going to suffer horribly to cure the celebrity cravings of America.

Anna is dead and it’s tragic.  But I can’t help but wonder if she created her own problems.  My husband thinks she faked her own death so she could run off with the baby and evade the papparazzi and media.  We all know this isn’t true.  Anna loved attention.  Could this be a media ploy?  Will she go into hiding like Elvis supposedly has?  (It’s not true, you know, the King is dead.)

I know that people can’t stand Anna-Nicole, but I just couldn’t help but question this news.  It doesn’t seem real.  That crazy girl is really dead.

February 7, 2007

Mocha Would Be Jealous

Across the street from my office is a little coffee shop called Emy J’s.  Actually they serve more than just coffe.  Ice Cream, Smoothies, Coffee and Tea are some of the offerings and more.

Emy J’s has been around for awhile, 2 or 3 years I believe, but I’ve only been a fan for the last month.  Every week I make it my plan to try something new.  This week it is Steamers.  On this terrible cold, -6° day, I’m drinking steamed milk with a shot of caramel syrup.  It is oh-so-delicioso™.  Yes, I’ve trademarked the phrase.

Last Monday I had the Americano Espresso, which is espresso combined with hot water.  I convulsed the last time I had full espresso.  Or was it machiatto?

Emy J’s has a great atmosphere, it’s not your typical coffee shop.  I love that it’s not a chain, and the people who work there are so friendly and make me feel welcome.

Emy J’s offers fruit, healthy desserts and next door is “The Other Side” a little cafe offering healthy soups, sandwiches and snacks.  I love the Potato Cucumber soup!

And just for Mocha Momma, they have Chai!  And they sell their ground coffee.  When’s your birthday?  I want to send you some.  This is one cuppa I think you may love!

My sister-in-law works at a travel agency next door to the coffee shop and she loves the Iced Mocha.  I’m going to wait until summer to try that one, being that it’s winter and all.

One of my favorite things about Emy J’s is their eco-conscious ideas.  If you bring in your used coffee cup the next time you visit, they give you a quarter off your drink.  And they have a coffee club card. 

Emy J’s uses Ancora Coffee Roaster’s and I found a link with their testimonial.  It’s true.  “People love it!”

Here’s a few of my faves on their menu:

Cappuccino…this isn’t your gas station sweet stuff! A fusion of espresso with steamed milk.

Cafe Mocha…somewhat sweet, just like that first kiss!  Chocolate and espresso steamed with milk.

Cafe Miel…the spice and the bees! Honey, cinnamon and espresso withe steamed milk.

Steamers…pick a flava and Emy J’s will swirl it with velvety steamed milk.  My favorite is caramel.

Oh…and as for ice cream, the Espresso Oreo is friggin’ fabulous!

Emy J’s also has Cafe Latte, Green Tea, Frappe, Iced Mocha, Iced Chai and Italian Soda. 

I love working across the street from this place!

February 6, 2007

Vocabulary Explosion

Every morning I wake up early to shower and get dressed for work, and also to dress Dawson for his day at daycare.  He’s a gigantic crab in the mornings and is very hard to wake up.  Sometimes, I have to change his diaper and dress him while he’s still laying down.  You’d think this would be easier then when he’s awake but it’s not.

After the twenty minutes of struggling to dress a cranky toddler, I finally manage to wrestle his shoes, socks and coat on and head for the door.

We live in a split level home in which we walk down a flight of steps to get to our front door.  Since Dawson is practicing his big boy skills, he insists on walking down the steps by himself.  Occasionally he will allow me to hold his hand so he doesn’t trip to his death.

I always say, “Careful, Dawson.  One step at a time, okay?”  He usually does a great job, delicately putting one foot down at a time.

Yesterday evening, Dawson insisted on having Dino-Nuggets for dinner.  These dinosaur-shaped chicken tenders are microwaveable:  four nuggets cook in one minute. 

My little Doodlebug demanded to sit on the kitchen counter and watch his dinner rotate in the microwave.  I stood next to him to be certain he wouldn’t fall and when the timer went off, I grabbed Dawson to set him down.

“Careful, Mumma!” Dawson said sternly.  My mouth dropped open in surprise.

“What did you think I was going to do, drop you on your head?” I asked him.

“Noooo, Mumma.  No drop-ded Dawson, kay?” he replied.

The child amazes me.  Now he’s telling me to be careful?

The phrases he picks up surprise me every day.

For instance, Sunday morning he decided he wanted to go potty on his Sesame Street themed potty chair.  I took him into the bathroom, helped him pull his pants and pull-up off and he sat down to do his business.

He’s never able to sit still for long and he was squirming in his chair.  After ten minutes of babbling about Elmo and Cookie Monster, he finally he told me he was all done.

“Mumma, get Dawson baby wipe?” he asked.

Yes, your majesty.  Anything else you need while you sit on your throne?

I stood up to get the wipes and when I turned around Dawson was standing up and looking at his potty chair.  He managed to get a little bit of the “number two” on his potty seat.

“Mumma!  There’s shit all over the place!” he said.

I had completely lost it.  I was laughing so hard I nearly peed my pants.  I couldn’t believe what I had just heard!

“What did you say?” I asked.  Dawson just looked at me, he was not as amused.  His choice of words seemed completely normal to him.  He was more concerned with me cleaning up the mess he made.

“Mumma, Dawson all done going potty.  You wipe icky off chair, now.”

I don’t know where he gets this stuff from.  I can only think that the word “shit” comes from his father’s vocab.  He tends to say the word all too often.  Now my child is telling me what to do!  Wouldn’t be the first time!

Dawson still insists on having a bottle at night to go to bed.  He’s 2 1/2 years old and every attempt at weaning has been a disaster.  I’ve gone through this ring around the rosy routine too many times to count.

Last week I decided enough was enough: no more bottle.  I cleverly hid all the bottles in the basement and we had no trouble at all until bed time.  Dawson stood in the kitchen and demanded his beloved bottle. 

“Dawson, the bottles are all dirty.  You’ll have to go to bed without it for now.”

He looked up at me and started to cry.  I told him again that his bottles were dirty.

“Mumma,” he said. “Doooo dishes!”

Out of the mouths of babes……