Loser Lunch Table

With competitive, ridiculously stubborn, and obnoxious parents, my poor son doesn't stand a chance. He needs to be fun, popular, and with a perfect quarterback name like Brody, I expect to see his name splashed throughout Sports Center. With a super athletic husband and my high calves, he is bound to be super athletic and cool...right? Of course, in our eyes, at 15 months he is perfect, fit to be king of the town, and will end up being a super star at a Division 1 college where we will tailgate, make great memories, and live vicariously through his fun. No pressure of course!

Well...my "perfect" husband and "perfect" son do share one little not so perfect commonality. They are both allergic to peanut butter. Since the first time my husband took at bite of a peanut butter and jelly sandwich around age one, he broke out in a rash. His mom tried one more time and the reaction worsened so he has never tried the stuff since. Can you imagine going through life without a Reese cup or a peanut butter and jelly sandwich? I sure can't.

So, when I told our doctor about my husband’s allergy, she told me to stay away from nuts until after my son turned one. After my sons first birthday, we had him allergy tested and the test came back with very high allergic numbers to nuts. So...we have stayed away from the nut butters in this house. I still indulge in my regular snack of peanut butter and apples but the men...then tend to stick to grilled cheese and waffles. My entire family, Brody's babysitters, and about anyone who will listen to a first time mother ramble, knows that my son has a nut allergy. You can only imagine my shock and freak out when my mom shoved a peanut butter Christmas cookie in my sons mouth last weekend at a party. She blames it on the fact that the cookie was died pink so she didn't realize it was peanut butter. I say, any cookie that has those fork marks and a Hershey's Kiss topper is obviously a peanut butter cookie. I don't care what fucking color it is. After I flipped out and watched my sons lips swell up like Will Smith's on the movie Hitch, I poured Benadryl down his throat and within 45 minutes, the lips were back to normal. What a scary situation.

The next day was Christmas Eve so I explained the entire scenario to my family. As I shared the story and the fact that Brody IS allergic to peanut butter, my middle school aged cousin just looked at me with a "sucks to be you" look on his face. "What Aiden??" I questioned, knowing he had something to say. "Well," he said "Brody is going to have to sit at the loser lunch table. The kids with food allergies have a separate lunch table and it's really pathetic and there is only like one or two of them there. It sucks." WHAT?? Not my son. The quarterback of the football team. He sits at the cool lunch table. WTF are you talking about??

Apparently, with all the food allergies out there today, there are now segregated lunch tables in schools. Let me tell you...this did not make me happy. I walked right into his 15 month doctors well visit today and flat out asked my pediatrician if my son was going to sit at the loser lunch table and what I could do about this. I'm sure she already thinks I'm insane since when she asked me if he was walking/climbing I responded "Yes, he's a fucking crazy man." I used the F word at the pediatricians’ office. Don't judge me until you're a mental working mom with a 15 month old son who literally doesn't stop moving, pulling hair, smacking, laughing at you, or trying to climb on and jump off furniture.

So...as I drag this post on and on, let me get to the point. My perfect, insanely popular, athletic, and desirable son might have to sit at the loser lunch table one day. Soak that in people, because it is not an easy thing for this pushy, mental mom to digest.

Well Hello Vegas...It's About Time We've Met

If I haven't made it blatenly obvious already, let me spell it out for you.  I love to party.  I literally smile when I think about getting dressed up, heading to the bar, dancing and having a great time.  It has been really hard for me to totally adjust my life to the fact that this "party" side is never going to be what it was now that little Brody is running the show.  Don't get me wrong, I am in LOVE with my son and wouldn't trade it for any amount of vodka sodas or techno clubs but...a mom still needs to get her fun in.

Because of my love for lavish cocktails and late night dancing, it may be surprising to hear that until a few weeks ago...I was a Vegas Virgin.  There is no rhyme or reason as to why I haven't travelled the less than five hours on Southwest to get to that gorgeous, sinful city.  It just hasn't happened.  So...when my work asked me to attend a trade show in Vegas, I didn't hesitate.  Of course, no trip comes easy anymore with babysitter changes and figuring out a serious schedule with the husband but I was determined to make this happen.  After pages of handwritten notes to the hubby (not like he NEEDS them, it just made me feel better) and a quick trip to Forever21 to find some cheap, hoochie dresses, I was on a plane to Vegas.

Yes, this was work related but there are a few people in my work crowd who love cocktails and dancing as much as I do and luckily, they would also be in attendance.  After spending the plan ride watching the Hangover (just prepping myself) I got there at what would be 5:00 my time at only 1pm.  I had nothing to do for work until 6:30pm that night so I went straight to the hotel, checked in my room, and then took myself and my push-up Vickie's bathing suit to the pool.  There, I ordered myself a marg and sat.  I did nothing.  It was early November, 80 degrees, no humidity, and I didn't have a care in the world. 

After a work dinner, we ventured out to the casinos at the Paris hotel.  I'm not a big gambler but I watched some of the guys lose their money as me and my super fun and cute counterpart from the Carolinas plotted our way to get over to the new and glamorous Cosmopolitan hotel. 

http://www.cosmopolitanlasvegas.com/

Once we did our team time, we collected the “fun group,” made our escape, and jumped into cabs that jetted us the three quick minutes down the street to “sanctuary.”  I had heard this place was where you needed to go to see and be seen.  We went to the four story chandelier bar where we sipped on cosmos (DUH!) and watched the hotness of every person in that bar.  I started to see lines forming near a side entrance and realized, we were outside a huge club.  These lines were intense and these girls were wearing lingerie.  LITERALLY.  Apparently, it was pajama night and I didn't get the memo.  I had to get into this club.

  After what seems like hours of eye fucking a big bouncer, he gave me the head nod to come around the side and get in the short line.  I grabbed my people, pulled out a credit card, and got us into that club!  We spent hours and hours on the rooftop, moving from poolside to techno house club.  I was addicted.  I could have stayed there all night if I wasn't reminded about our 9:00am meeting the next day.

Needless to say, my first trip to Vegas was amazing and it was for WORK!  I’ve already planned a girls trip with my friends for next summer.  I’ve gotta get some serious partying in before Brody even thinks about becoming a big brother!

Missing You

There are so many things to update on right now.   The successful first birthday of my beautiful baby boy.  My husbands new job and the fact that he will actually be in the state of Maryland this week.  The fact that I managed to put my blackberry through the washing machine and bang my car into the side of a wall all in the same short week.  However...right now I don't want to talk about any of that and none of it seems to matter.  Right now, the only thing that is on my mind is that I miss my dad.  So much.

Today it has been five years since my dad passed away.  Not only was he the funnest, kindest, most loyal, and most memorable person most people have ever met, he was truly an absolutley amazing father.  I feel insanely blessed that I grew up with a man who loved me so much worked so hard to give me, my mom, and my sisters anything we ever wanted.  He loved me with ever fiber in his body and I will never forget that. 

It hurts my heart that my son will never get to know how wonderful and amazing his grandfather was.  My dad would have been the absolute best grandfather imaginable.  There is no way I will ever be able to explain to Brody how cool and fun and awesome his grandpa "Big Joe" was, but I am sure as hell going to try...

You Couldn't Live My Life

One summer during college, I think it was between my junior and senior year, I was busy.  I had an internship during the day, worked out with a trainer for about 2 years to prepare for my senior soccer season, and worked at a bar every night as a cocktail waitress.  When I was tired, stressed, or felt super busy, my signature phrase would be "You couldn't live my life."  I would say this to my parents, aunts, uncles...pretty much anyone who would listen.  My dad used to crack up in my face and say "Girl, I would love to live your life.  Your life is awesome and easy.  You couldn't live MY life." 

Well, he was right.  I was getting college credits for my internship, I worked out with a trainer for free because we had crushes on each other and would make out, and I spent my nights flirting and drinking beer while I made money.  That was as amazing as funfetti cake!  It was so simple.  If I could turn back the clock I would remind myself how simple and stress free that time really was.  Well...fastforward about seven years later and here I am.

My latest blogging hiatus goes to show the immense INSANITY my life has been in.  I got a promotion at work (good thing).  My husband got a new job (good thing).  My son started walking and is all over the place (good thing).  However, with all of these good new things in our life, come the craziness.  With the more responsibility I have at work, comes more work.  My husbands new job is a great career move for him and for our family.  The downside, he will be travelling and in training both out of the state and out of the country for the next 6-8 weeks.  This means, I'm a crazy, working, "single" mother on Mondays through Fridays and then the hubby comes home on the weekend.  Talk about crazy!

While going through all of this, I am still training for the Baltimore half-marathon.  The race is in 4 weeks so I'm putting in about 26-28 miles a week.  Yes, I put this added stressor on myself but I signed up for this race way before the rest came about.  Thank God for Moms and sisters because I wouldn't be able to get through the next few months without them. 

The only positive in to this busy lifestyle?  I'm five pounds thinner than I was before I got pregnant...Holler! 
So...I now have to say... You Couldn't Live My Life!

Beach Baby

My babes and I have taken a slight hietus to relax at the beach, drink beers, bronze our bodies, and just relax.  I was very nervous that my first beach get-a-way with a baby would be a disaster.  I am used to getting to the beach, getting up by 10am, frying my body in the sand until at least 4pm when it is time to start boozing, bathing, and getting ready for a night out.  Things were a bit different this year but mostly, in a good way.  Having Brody to laugh at, look at, and play with made our beach days even more entertaining.  We are also so lucky to have a big family who loves my son immensely so they jumped at the chance to walk him, take him up for a nap, or let me and the hubby go out for a night of drinking.  Seriously, what would I do without the fam?


Brody was obsessed with the water.  I mean, a kid named Brody should love the beach, right?  If the penis didn't give it away, his attitude and actions scream BOY.  This kid was face diving into waves (p.s. he's 10 months old).  I am going to have a serious trouble maker and heart breaker on my hands.  I'm fine with the heart breaking...I'm not a fan of teenage skanks anyway.


So, without further ado...here are the latest and greatest of my little beach bum

Don't lie to yourself...this is the cutest baby ever.  I might not be able to have more kids because there is no way I can dublicate this cuteness.

That's right and hopefully his friends think so in 15 years when he's in high school.  I wouldn't mind be the hot mom.  Just saying...

Real Housewives??

I have said it once and I'll say it again. I am obsessed with  Bravo and the Real Housewives.  It doesn't matter which season (even though I have my favorites), I get involved, intertwined, and obsessed with their catty fights, ridiculous lifestyles, and bitchy attitudes.  The Real Housewives of NYC is definitley my least favorite.  These women just annoy me.  I don't have a favorite or even a feeling that I could hang out with one of them for the day and have a great time.  This doesn't mean, however, that I don't watch every episode and have an opinion on their every move and attitude.

So...last night while I was straining my tired eyes to stay awake and watch the Reunion Show part 2, I found myself getting irritated.  As they went back and forth during the entire show (poor Andy Cohen) bitching and fighting, I was barely paying attention.  But then they started getting on Ramona and saying she has a drinking problem.  First of all, I will start by saying that I am not a super Ramona fan.  She is obnoxious and a little ridiculous but spunky and wants to have fun.  Regardless, they showed clips of her and her constant need, love, and demand of pinot grigio.  So?????  If these women think Ramona has a drinking problem, they themselves have mental problems.

The woman loves her some pinot...so do I.  As a matter of fact, I have a big glass of delicious Barefoot Pinot Grigio right now.

http://www.barefootwine.com/

Why can't the woman have a glass (or 4) of wine at social events if she wants to?  I don't care if it's 10:00 in the morning or 10:00 at night.  If she wants some wine, give her some wine.  I expect some type of alcoholic beverage at any event I go to.  If I show up somewhere and it's a sober event, I am irritated.  I don't care if it's a breakfast, a baby shower, or my grandma's 85th birthday.  I demanded alcohol at my baby shower because I said I didn't want everyone else to suffer and be sober just because I had to be.  Does this make me an alcoholic?  Maybe I love my cocktails because I am a working mom of a 10 month old and my only connection to sanity is the large glass of wine I consume each night.  Maybe it's because I actually love the taste of wine and champagne.  Or maybe...just maybe, it's because I'm 27 years old and if I want a fucking drink, give me one. 

So Ramona, if you want these woman to butt out, just use my favorite phrase...DTMMB.  Don't Tell Me My Business.  I use this at home, at work, and with friends.  If you want wine, pour a glass and shout out DTMMB. 

With that, I'm off to finish this wine, finish some work, and start packing for my vacation that starts bright and early Friday morning.  I might even drink a mimosa on the way to the beach (the husband will be driving).  How do you like me now Jill Zarin?!

Dance Party USA

When days, months, minutes, and motherhood start to get stressful or overwhelming, there are certain things that people to to revamp and refresh.  Maybe a massage?  A glass of wine?  Exercise?  Read a book?  I am a fan of all of these things but sometimes, I prefer to do something a little different and "crazy" to clear my mind. 

Before I continue, I need to define "crazy" in my terms.  I tend to call things, people, and events crazy all of the time.  It is the main adjective I use when describing my family and myself.  We're all fucking crazy.  But I mean this in the best way.  We're obnoxious, loud, outspoken, opinioned people who love a strong cocktail and a great time.  So, if I describe someone (or myself) a crazy bitch, it's a borderline compliment. 

Anyway...I love fun.  I love to sing, celebrate, laugh, do different things, and have a great time.  Motherhood has changed me but not drastically.  During my pregnancy, I was constantly committing myself to remain the fun, outgoing person I am and I feel like I've done a pretty good job at keeping up the role.  Brody has learned to adjust to a life of crazy and has become his own little perfect shade of crazy.  This kid doesn't stop moving and is constantly laughing, getting into trouble, and crawling/running in circles around the house.  Yes, I know that all kids are active but my kid is SUPER active.  Trust me, I've done the research.  This being the case, he thinks it's an insane good time to blast music and have dance parties.  I'm not making this up.  He loves music (especially the liking of my boo Britney Spears, Keisha, some serious 80's jams, and a few hard core rap remixes).  When we get home from work/the babysitters, we usually go buck wild for about a half hour, tearing through toys, jumping around the house, and crawling around the floor. 

Well, the other day he was just not feeling any of his toys.  He threw the fire truck.  Threw the baseball bat.  Threw the books.  Threw EVERYTHING in my house.  So...I sat him down, blasted Britney, and started seriously jumping and dancing around him in circles.  I was singing, swinging my long ponytail in his face, and shaking every part of this "semi back in shape" body.  I'm sure he felt as mesmerized as I did when I was at the actual Britney concert because he didn't make a peep for 30 minutes as he sat, stared, and smiled.  As the cardio continued, I put him on my shoulders so he could join in on the fun.  It was seriously like Christmas for this kid.  He couldn't stop smiling and laughing.  When my husband did the sneak attack in the front door and stood there watching this ridiculous scene for about 5 minutes before I caught him, his exact words were "What's wrong with you?"  I couldn't breathe well enough to respond.

Later that evening, I was sitting outside with a few neighbors, enjoying a nice glass of wine when my next door neighbor asked "Were you working out in your basement earlier?  I heard the techno/dance music blasting."  For a minute I thought, maybe I'll lie to make myself sound a little more normal but decided that honesty was the best way to handle this.  "Oh no, that was just me and Brody having a serious dance party.  He loves Britney and Keisha."

If you don't feel a little less crazy after reading about my craziness, I can't help you.




Happy Monday!

A Day in the Life

It is very hard for me to admit when I am not doing something well.  I strive to be a perfectionist and have am very OCD about a lot of things.  My husband "jokes" that I don't know how to relax but in reality, he is correct.  When I am sitting on the couch, I am thinking about other things I could be doing (dishes, laundry, exercising, reading, etc).  Life in itself is pretty busy for me these days but this crazy quality makes it even worse.  As I said in my last post, I am becoming HORRIBLE at keeping up with this blog and am contemplating whether or not it is something I am going to continue.  I truly do love writing and sharing but I don't want it to be something I have to do, but something I want to do.  So, in the effort to make somewhat of an excuse for my lowsy blogging updates lately, here is a quick outline of my daily life.  Once you see this, you will see that I am not just a crazy person, I am actually very busy these days.

5:40am:  Alarm goes off
5:55am:  Out the door to run 4-6 miles and sometimes a track interval workout
7:10am:  Home just in time for the husband to gulp down a bowl of cereal before he heads off to work
7:15-8:15am:  Get myself showered, dressed, make up face, fed, son dressed, fed, diaper changed
8:15-9:30am:  Babysitter drop off and then commute an hour to our nation's capital for work.  This hour usually includes conference calls, catch up calls with clients and co-workers, or serious jam sessions
9:30am-4:30pm: visit clients, attend meetings, lunches, cold call, put through orders, pretty much talk on the phone or work on the blackberry and laptop all day
4:30-5:30pm: Babysitter pickup and commute home
6:00pm-8:00pm - Dinner time, play time, bath time, Brody bed time
8:00pm-10:00pm - some nights I have another hour or so of work to do on the computer.  Then it's time to prep the diaper bag, pack lunches, chug a glass of wine, possibly get some QT in with the hubby, and then I'm off to bed.

I just got exhausted writing that.  Of course, every day is not exactly the same but you get the idea.  To add fuel to fire, we have been out of town nearly every other weekend attending weddings of friends.  My poor son has been all over the place (thank god he won't remember how many weekends we had to leave him during his first 12 months!).  I am constantly talking about needing "me" time but am slowing starting to realize that this so called "me" time is not something that most moms get on a regular basis.  So...when you pull up my blog and see that I am MAYBE writing once a week, I consider that an accomplishment!  I have seriously thought about soliciting my friends to help make over my blog and remind me to write.  I know that my life is not very different from every mom out there, I am just having a hard time making time for everything, including my little blog that is in desperate need for some TLC.

In about two weeks, my little family is off to the beach and I absolutley cannot wait.  This mommy needs some serious sun, sand, and alcohol.

Bad Blogger

Ok people...I think it's do or die time for this sassy, working mom.  First of all, I would like to say that I am a really sore loser.  I like being right, good at everything, and am one stubborn, Irish lady.  This being the case, the fact that I am becoming a horrible blogger does not make me happy.  I need to either step my game up or accept the fact that it's pretty hard to be a wife, mom, house keeper, account manager, grocery shopper, partier, and exerciser.  I mean seriously, can I really add good blogger to that list?  I absolutely love to write and share the reality in which I live so I hope I can make a commitment to sip my wine by the computer at night while I blog away.

This is my personal pep talk.  I need to give these to myself every so often when I feel like a part of my life is slaking.  Right now, the exercising, working, mom and wife part are my top priorities (not in that order!) but I want to make sharring my life one too.  I just hope that by reading my craziness and listening to my blunt words, you all find some entertainment.  Stay tuned...hopefully more to come!

Happy Weekend!

Happy July 4th weekend!  I am starting my weekend off with a delicious orange crush. 

I hope yours is full of fun and cocktails!

Movie Review

No, I am not an acclaimed critic or really an insane movie watcher who joins online movie reviews or follows movie blogs.  Regardless, I am going to tell each and every one of you what I think about this movie.  Unless you are a prude and hate fun, you MUST see it.

The title alone pulled me towards the movie theatre.  This year, I am a bridesmaid in three weddings and already have another one lined up for 2012.  Because of this, I know the craziness that can go on but especially, the emotions women go through when their friends are getting married.  But also, I knew that with this group of actresses, it would be a funny film and I was ready for some raunchy laughs.  Friends and co-workers, men and women alike, have told me how funny it is so I was prepared.

My mom, sister, and I ventured to a Sunday afternoon movie and in the first five minutes, I knew this was going to be great.  The converstation, blunt honesty, and great combination of friends, family, and wedding craziness really made it a great, see again, movie. 

Not to be a spoiler, but I just need to say how much I appreciated one character.  Although I have only lived nine wonderful months with a son, I have already realized how the testosterone is taking over my house.  Everything is trucks, blue, sports.  We don't play delicately with toys...instead we throw them, bang our head on the ground, and laugh.  One bridesmaid kept going on about her three sons and how she NEEDED to get out of the house.  "You know, they get to that age and there is semen everywhere!"  She begged for a Vegas bachelorette party so she could show off a hot, new tube top and hang out with some people with vaginas and boobs.  I couldn't help but hysterically laugh as she went on and on about her sons.

If you don't like crude language, innapropriate converstaions, sex scenes, or poop...you won't like this movie.  If you enjoy a little of the above, which I enjoy a lot of each, you are going to be as big a fan as I am.

Enjoy friends!

http://www.bridesmaidsmovie.com/

Things I've learned...

The last few weeks have been crazy for me.  Between work, sick baby, sick hubby, and just life in general, it's been an absolute shit show.  Although I'm not old in age (27 years young), I do believe that I am aged in life experiences.  Yes, part of my life is just a puppy but there are things that this 27 year old has gone through that many 50+ years olds have yet to experience.  In the last five years, my life has absolutely turned upside down.  Some for the good, some for the horrible, and some just becaust that's what happens when you grow up.  I have dealt with the death of a parent (my dad passed away almost 5 years ago), went through serious relationships and married my college sweet-heart, bought my first house, lived 10 fun filled months super prego and then experienced almost 48 hours of labor that ended in a C-section, and am now a working mom.  Yeah...shit just got serious!  So, during the last few weeks of crazy in my life, here is what I have learned.  Please read, remember, and learn ladies (and gentlemen?)

1.  Exercise really helps a stressful day
2.  Once your child crawls, you will never pee or poop in peace again
3.  No matter what, stay connected with your true friends
4.  You're husband isn't ALWAYS wrong...cut him some slack
5.  Don't sweat the small stuff (easier said than done with this crazy)
6.  A blow job or a quickie is an easy way to end any fight
7.  Wine heals all wounds
8.  When your 9 month old has a double ear infections, don't expect to sleep
9.  Dry shampoo is a lifesaver
10.  Take a chill pill and your birth control pill every day
11.  A potty mouth isn't always a bad thing...saying "fuck that shit" can sometimes make you feel better
12.  One morning you'll wake up and realize that your sisters have turned into your best friends
13.  As much as I say I want it, I don't know if I could be a stay-at-home mom
14.  I kinda like being the only female in an all male office.
15.  And last but not least...I'm one crazy bitch and the fact that I've found someone to love and live with me forever is a an absolute blessing!

So...this is my advice for the week.  Take it or throw it right back at me, that's up to you.  Happy weekend biatches! 

Sick Babies = Tired Mommy

Before I start writing/bitching, I want to ask all of my engaged, just married, or thinking of having a kid soon friends and followers to stop reading.  Seriously.  I want all of you to have kids and make beautiful little friends for my baby but if you read this, you might get off the baby bandwagon.

Yes, I said I have sick baby(S).  This is because I have both a sick 9 month old son and a sick 27 year old husband.  After being away all of last Saturday day and night for a friends crazy and fun bachelorette party in NYC, I drove home Sunday early afternoon to find two sick boys.  The big boy with a cough and sinus infection and the baby boy with a teperature of 102.  After squirting motrin and tylenol down his throat for hours and the temp going up, not down, I decided it was time to call the on call doctor.  She told me that 104 (which the temp was now up to) was very high for an almost 9 month old and we needed to bring him to the emergency room.  After a few hours of tests, monitoring, and more drugs, the fever came down and we were sent home with a miserable baby, a viral infection, a sinus infection, and directions to drug him full of motrin, tylenol, and anti-biotics.  His fever came and went for two more days until it finally went away for good.  I worked from home one day and took one day off because there was no way I could leave the pathetic little face.  So...as I am nursing my poor little baby back to health, my husband insists his case is getting worse, even on anti-biotics, and chugs Nyquil so he can get some sleep.  I'm not saying I don't believe he's sick, he is.  The thing is, when men are sick, it is like the entire world has ended.  I was sick about a month ago and still worked every day, took care of a babe, and travelled to Florida for work for 3 days.  Let's get serious hubs. 

Since our little prince is waking up every 1-2 hours choking on the flem that is draining down his throat, there is no chance of sleep if he is not propped up, laying on my chest.  So here we are in bed, a big baby on one side, coughing/sleeping and a little baby laying on me, twirling my hair into knots, screaming, and coughing.  The little babe wakes up every few hours and Mommy is EXHAUSTED.

The hubby does, however, get enough strength and energy every few hours or so to try and take my shorts off or penis poke me in between the snob wiping and drug giving routine I have taken over for our son.  Seriously??  Yes, you're hot.  Yes, I would love to have sex with you.  Please call/poke me after I have time to wipe the snot and eye goop out of my hair, off my chest, legs, arms, and stomach.  How can guys be so sick that they literrally can barely breathe between coughs but still can feel good enough for a quickie?  I am a hot mess and you're coughing up a lung and look like death.  I'm totally turned on, just do me now...

By mid week...I had to go into work.  I drug my poor son before shipping him off to the babysitters and then try to put enough make up on my face to make it look like I'm a semi-human and not a walking zombie.  I'm not kidding when I say I am more tired right now than I ever was during infancy.  Having one sick baby sucks and having two is even worse.  All I want to do is drink an entire bottle of wine and sleep for 8 hours.  Not happening.

Today I thought maybe if I did Brody's hair, he'd perk up a little.  If I'm ever feeling down or sickly, a shower, some bronzer, and a serious hair straightening does the job for me.  Not so much for this little guy...

My boys better get well soon because this working Moma can't handle it!

Move over Longaberger...there's a new party in town!

I have said it before and I will say it again...everyone looks better with a tan.  It makes clothes look better, lip gloss look brighter, arms look slimmer, and it really just puts a smile on peoples faces.  I would put money on the fact that most girls feel better about themselves in the summer time vs. winter simply due to the fact that their skin has a tint of gold.

Although I am obsessed with being tan, I'm not obsessed with the fact that I has a little skin cancer scare last year.  I am irish, I have freckles, and I had a very small basel cell on my eye lid.  Everything is fine, they removed it with ease and you would never be able to tell it was there.  BUT...I am now more cautious when it comes to bronzing.  I refuse to be pale but am not a moron.  I know that it isn't smart for me to fry my skin like I did during spring break so many years ago.  Because of this, I have discovered spray tanning and I'm hooked!  I usually go to a salon near my house, pay my $25 and stand in a booth for 10 seconds as a cool mist covers my  body.  It's quick, easy, and within minutes, I'm tan.  I could seriously do this once a week (the tan lasts about 5 days).  When I saw that one of my high school friends is now doing spray tanning as a little side business, I jumped at the opportunity to gather my girlfriends and introduce them to my new found love.

I mean seriously, if someone is going to have a house party, do they really want to sit in your living room, look at baskets or tupperware, and sip on soda?  No way.  Who wouldn't pay $20 to get tan and tipsy.  I provided the wine and the girls brought over their pale, make-up less bodies to get bronze.  My friend set up her pop up tanning tent in my basement and we took turns going downstairs, stripping down, and having her tan us.  As you can probably tell through my writing, I'm not a modest person.  I opted to get sprayed in a thong and nothing else.  I think my next venture will be completely nude.  You don't have to bare it all, you can wear a bathing suit, bra and undies, whatever you feel comfortable in.  It seriously was the perfect Thursday night.  Friends, several bottles of wine, and a beautiful tan.  I couldn't ask for more.

20 minutes before this...I was the palest thing you have ever seen.  OBSESSED with the spray tan.

10K What?!?!

Yes!  That is me, my sister, and my trusty running partner right after we kicked some serious ass in my first race PB (post Brody).  I was definitley nervous leading up to this.  I had only ran 6 miles once pb and knew that the course would be a little more hilly than my typical 4-5 mile run on the running trail.  But...when you subtract the 30+ pounds of baby and running stroller that is part of my regular training routine, my body felt light as a feather. 

It was a perfect morning for a run and a perfect start to a summer full of training for a half marathon in October.  Bring it on competitions...this mama is ready!

Push it...Push it Real Good

I can’t believe my baby graduated from college…my baby sister that is.  For some reason, my sister graduating from college makes me feel older than the fact that I am married and have a child.  I guess she was my link to the young life.  I could link her with ideas, fun, and trends.  “Oh yea, isn't that cool? My sister in college told me about that.”  We had such a great weekend celebrating her hard work and determination.  It really is a fete to graduate in four years, cum laude, and still have a serious pair of party pants. 

After the ceremony, our family drove the 30 minutes it takes to get to the beach from her school and celebrated with a little lunch and some sangria at the beach condo my mom rented for the weekend.  It is guaranteed to be nothing but fun (and a little drama) when our family gets together.  As the stories, drinks, and laughs grew, we all knew it was going to be a memorable night.   It is tradition in her school for every graduate and family member to go to Seacrets that night.  Seacrets is a huge beach bar on the bay that is complete with several bars, bands, a little indoor club action, and always a great spot for people watching.  We got there around 5:00pm and enjoyed some time together before her entire graduating class and their entourages showed up.  After a few hours, we made our way from the table and started standing around one of the beach bars, dancing to the tunes of a great beach/cover band.  They were playing a good deal of Eagles, Steve Miller Band, and other classics that were great for singing along to.

After one song concluded, the main singer gave a shout out to the crowd…”Any requests?”  Without hesitation, my middle sister shouts out…”Salt-n-Pepper Push it.”  We all start laughing, never thinking these t-shirt and flip-flop wearing, shaggy haired guys would know it.  After about 10 seconds, the first few notes to the song were strummed on the guitar and he pointed to my sister and told her to come on up.  The three of us ran up there and jumped on stage.   She grabbed the mic and began…”Oh baby baby, Ohh baby baby.”  As the band played, my middle sister must have had a flash back to the tight jeans and baggy Calvin Klein t-shirt wearing days of middle school and early high school.  Every single word of that song came streaming out of her mouth as she gripped the microphone and pumped up the crowd.  My youngest sister and I became the back-up singers shouting “Salt and Pepa’s here!”  My mom was glowing with pride.  Her three educated, smart, grown daughters were rocking out on a stage while old men whistled and young girls danced.

With work, babies, boys, and life, the three of us don’t get a ton of time to be silly and fun together like we did for the first 20 some years of our lives.  Well…at that beach bar in front of the Salisbury University graduating class of 2011, we pushed it…we pushed it REAL good.

Name Brand Snob

If we’re being honest (and I always am…sometimes a bad trait) I like me a name brand.  I can’t help it.  There are certain things that I just want a brand name in and it doesn’t matter how much you try to sell me something different, I won’t like it.  It could look the same, feel the same, smell the same, whatever…I’m not purchasing.  This is not the case for everything.  I will definitely buy some “off brand” clothes.  I love Forever 21 and H&M for fun, trendy clothes.  I’ll purchase costume jewelry from anywhere.  I’m not specific about my brand of makeup (except I LOVE bare minerals).  BUT…when it comes to handbags, sunglasses, certain style clothes, work out gear, etc…give me a brand.  I hate to admit it, but I’ve been like this for most of my life.  I didn’t grow up with brand name everything but I craved it.  When it was time for me to make my own money, I wouldn’t be caught dead wearing a “no name polo” or shorts that didn’t have a Nike swoosh on them.  I would rather own 2 polo's with a pony on the breast then 16 polo's with an Old Navy symbol.  I'm sorry people.  Judge at will...I'm just being honest.

It's not like I am made of money and can afford to diss products and purses that don't have a brand connected but I can't help it.  If I had unlimited resources coming in, this snobbish style would be worse.  The problem is I’ve created a monster…my husband.

The man I love has always had an eye for nice things (let’s get serious, he picked me!) but our relationship has brought the name brand out in him.  A man that always dressed nice is now obsessed.  We should probably buy stock in UnderArmour because he now does not golf, work out, or walk out the front door without a head to toe UnderArmour outfit.  Don’t get me wrong, the man looks hot.   But seriously??  The money can’t go to both of our brands.  He has also decided that my workout clothes aren’t up to his standards so all my old soccer t-shirts and shorts have gone to the bottom of the pile and have been replaced by matching “hot” workout outfits that the husband has purchased for me.  I can’t complain when he comes home with cute running shorts or shirts but seriously, now he’s obsessed. 

The problem is this obsession has already rubbed down on my 7 month old son.  What baby doesn’t look cute in polo, Nike socks, and underarmour hats?  I can’t name one.  I can justify buying my son anything.  Mother guilt sometimes sets in on me when I want to purchase for myself these days.  "Do I need this?  Could I find this somewhere else?  I'll wait."  But for my baby..."Money ain't a thang."  I took our brand obsession one step further when I put my son in a Burberry onesie.  Seriously??  Babies puke all over onsies.  Well, my son is going to puke and spit up and shit in style.  I don’t care if I work solely to support this ridiculous obsession.  If you’re going to spit up, at least it’s on a beautiful plaid Burberry print.  It just happens to be the same onesie Mason (you know, Kourtney Kardashian’s son) sported when he was Brody’s age. 

I mean seriously…how can he NOT wear Burberry??

http://misamephoto.com/?p=2019

Brody is even snobby towards diapers.  We tried Luvs thinking we’d be thrifty and save money.  This kid wet the bed every night for a week.  The husband went out and bought a case of Pampers…the crib has been dry as a dessert.  Money DOES buy happiness in this case.

As long as these "Monsters" continue to buy me Hunter rainboots, Nike shorts, and super hot outfits for themselves, I won't complain.  Am I crazy?  Yes.  Do I look good through the crazy?  Absolutely.

My Perfect Mothers Day

How could I not have had an amazing day with that precious face.  My boys (one being my grown husband and one being my 7 month old angel) made my day very special.  Not only did I get kisses and hugs, but I also got a delicous and healthy home made breakfast in bed.

Just being able to hug my perfect son and realize that being his mom is by far the most rewarding thing I have done in my life, made my first Mother's Day a Day I will never forget.

The LC Golden Girls

Sorry for my brief hiatus...I have been a pathetic sick woman who has done nothing but go to work, come home and play mom and then go to bed at 8pm for the last week.  Not to worry, I am back to feeling fabulous (almost). 

As most of you remember, I explained my crazy year of weddings.  The first wedding "event" of the season was last weekend, the bachelorette party for one of my absolute best friends (you know, the one who I went to the porn shop for?!)  The weekend was spent with 14 girls, lots of wine, serious dance parties, pole dancing lessons, and the realization that this party mom is out of drinking shape.

The weekend was a great time but the best part was probably the union of my favorite four.  I am very forunate to have a lot of amazing ladies in my life.  My sisters and cousins have grown from family to friends and I have made and kept a lot of important friendships throughout my 27 years thus far.  Although all of these friendships are special and important, a college friendship is something different.  I have a relationship with these girls that is more than friends...we are family.  Not only did I spend the best years (body and booze wise) with these girls, but I lived, slept, ate, drank, shared, cried, and breathed with them day in and out.  Take it even one step further for me, we played soccer together.  Because of this, we traveled, sweat, showered (get your mind out of the gutters), and shared everything.  This postion led to friendships that I never imagined possible.  I am still extremely close with about 10 of the girls from my team.  I keep in touch with many more and have a extra special bond with three ladies. 

The four of us did everything together and have built relationships that truly should be seen by the likes of all on E!  Three of us still love close and the fourth lives about 4 hours away (not too bad) but when we all get together, it's like we're back in college and nothing has changed.  It doesn't matter that now we're all either engaged or married, I'm a mother, one's a doctor, or one's a lawyer.  The bachelorette weekend brought us back together to celebrate one of our own and let me tell you...we celebrated. 

The minute we get together, our typical banter begins.  Within minutes of being around the four of us, one of the bride to be's friends from grad-school laughed saying we reminded her of the Golden Girls.  Hmmm...this got me thinking.  What a great comparison.  Here are four girls who all have completey different personalities that compliment each other while feeding off each other.  We have the relationships where it's ok to say "Don't eat that piece of pizza, you'll hate yourself in an hour," "Go fuck yourself," "How often do you and your husband have sex?" or "Change that shirt, it makes you look broad."  These are honest, true, statements sometimes joking and sometimes serious and I absolutley love that they can be said in my circle without offense taken.  I actually said "I never feel bad talking about any of you if you're not around because I've already said it to your face."  And everyone agreed.  We can talk about each other flaws, personalities, and accomplishments without judgement (ok maybe a little) or pause.  This my friends, is friendship and I am truly blessed to have these lifelong friends.  Who knows, in 40+ years we might be living the Golden Girl lifestyle...with a little more wine.

My posse...the tall beauty in the middle is a soccer love but not one of the four Golden (or should we say Brunette) Girls.

Run for Fun

Remember when I said I was training for a few races?  I signed up months ago thinking, "I'll have plenty of time..."  Well, the time has come and now my first 10K PB (Post Baby) is a mere month away.  I have been training and Brody is becoming more and more agreeable in the jogging stroller. 

We have learned that we both enjoy the voice of Britney, the Black Eyed Peas, and Cascada.  We have also learned that a teething toy, small bottle of watered down apple juice, and my keys will keep B very occupied for at least an hour.  Also, I am lucky that my son inherited my nosiness so he can take up a good amount of the trip staring at bikers, cars, other runners, trees, and anything else we pass. 

I don't bring my babe on every run.  I have been dragging my tired self out of bed in the AM to run at least 2-3 times per week.  The boys get in some quality time before 6am and Mommy gets a run in.  This way, I can't have the excuse of tireness, I would rather have a glass of wine, or I don't have time at the end of the day.  I figure, I'm going to be tired regardless of what time I wake up so I might as well get up an hour earlier and burn some calories.  I am getting in a solid 4 miles and could probably continue if I had more time.  Within 2 weeks, I'd like to feel comfortable on a 5 miler and then by the time race day comes, 6 miles will push through on pure adrenaline and the fact that I am an insanely competitive person and will refuse to look weak.  I know, I know...I already purchsed my ticket to crazy town, let's not rub it in!

I have to admit, I've felt great and energized by these morning runs.  So, let the training continue.   

Welcome to Crazy Town - Party of One Please

During pregnancy, I constantly tried to prep myself for the changes that were going to accur in my life once my baby was born.  I was going to be a mother.  I was going to have a son.  Yes, I might get a little less sleep.  Yes, I would probably spend my Saturday evenings at the park and in bed early.  Yes, things would change but in a magical, beautiful way.  Now, with a perfect, seven month old son, life has changed and it has been great.  The problem is, no one ever prepared me for the things I would lose come motherhood.  One example...my mind. 

I used to be a very put together person.  I was EXTREMELY organized and "planny."  I was very good at my job, kept a spotless house, and would describe myself as specific but fun.  Well, let me just tell you, that put together person is GONE!  Here is an actual email I sent to my friend yesterday...

"I've LOST my mind.  I need a wine and a xanex 10 min ago.  I left my
umbrella in a restaraunt, lost my parking garage tag so it took me 45 min to
fill out paper work and get my car out.  Is this what motherhood does to
people?  If so, Brody is going to be an only child.  I'm mental."

After she so sweetly responds to find out if it was the nice, expensive umbrella and telling me I'm just not used to losing things and not to worry, I'm doing a great job, here is my response...

"I know...who am I??  Even a guy I work with literally said "who are you".
I'm usually a put together on top of it person.  One child has driven me
into phsyco land even further than before.

Yes it was the burberry!  I flipped my shit in the middle of an office,
called the restaraunt and they had it, thank goodness.  Just another day in
the life of a mental case."

Hopefully my work isn't monitoring all emails or they will see this and certainly find some reason to kick this crazy mom to the curb. 

Pretty in Porn

Wedding season is officially here and for me, it is jam packed.  We have 7 weddings to attend from now through December and most of these beautiful brides and sexy grooms are our absolute best friends so it is very exciting and special.  Although the actual wedding day is the most important event in the series, the preface to these declorations of love and commitment brings lots of penis, titty tassles, and ridiculous stories in the form of your typical bachelor and bachelorette parties.

This weekend I lived my double life of mommy and hard core porn store attendee.  I spent Saturday morning in the kitchen making organic home made baby food for my son (while nursing a slight hangover from one too many skinny girls with my dear friend Hud Friday night).  The afternoon took a turn for the scandelous when I went shopping for penis peraphanalia.  My absolute bff is my italian twin and she and I can bring out the  crazy in each other so I knew this trip was going to be fun.  We had planned to meet up for fun bachelorette shopping spree for our other bestie and wanted to make sure we got the full experience.  As we walked into the porn shop that was covered up on the windows and had signs stating "Must be 18 to enter" I thought to myself...Where the fuck am I?

We weren't in the shop for 5 seconds when Laur whispered "I'm not mature enough for this."  I couldn't agree more.  There were couples walking around together looking for the best video to set the mood and there we were, laughing at the anal beads and trying to sort through the over priced and over sized dildo's.  They had every type of toy, fantasy mask, and fetish piece you could image.  A few pieces of equipment looked like they was made for lazy people.  Do you really need a $55.00 harness to hold your girls booty in the air for doggy style?  Either use a tie or have your partner arch her back a little more...it's not rocket science.   

 "I mean seriously, it can't feel good if it's THAT big"  "Do you think the pictures of the guys on the box actually have dicks that big?" "Ew, look at this one" "Would you ever use this...?"  "Why, would YOU?"    These questions continued as we toured the tiny shop and then found ourselves in the back where there were booths to "preview" the videos.  I mean seriously, what type of person goes into those semen infested booths and previews the porn?  Just spend the $20 and call it a day.  There were a few bachelorette appropriate items but we weren't really focused on them.  We moved our way over to "guy on guy" section and before I knew what was happening, the bff was taking pictures on her phone of these poses and texting them to my husband and her fiance.  We were laughing hysterically.  Seriously, is this my life?  I am someone's mother. 

We would point to a serious "hanger" and gasp, wondering if that was real.  This went on and on.  The sign said "15 minute limit on browsing" but there was no big enforcer so we continued our shopping spree. 

After we bought a few items, I put the bag in my purse and then opened my big burberry umbrella to race to my mini van and head over to the mall for a lunch of salad and white wine.  Now...Does that last sentence really go with the entire post?  Like I said, I was leading a double life on Saturday and can I just tell you, I had a great time. 

Chels...my new bestie

As you either know or can tell...I'm a bit of a reality tv junkie.  My time spent catching up with my reality friends is much more limited these days because of a particularly cutie but that doesn't mean I don't still lovemesome reality celebs.  Of course, I'm a fan of some and not of others but for the most part, I ridiculously follow the majority of reality tv.  Although my husband thinks it's obnoxious and tries to explain to me how it's not reality (YES IT IS), I graciously ignore his thoughts and continue my love affair.

There is always room in my life for another celeb friend so when someone suggested I read "Are you there, Vodka?  It's me, Chelsea" I figured, why not?  I have never followed Chelsea Handler and really didn't know anything about her except the fact that she had a show on E!  I was told that it was a fun, easy read that would make you laugh out loud.  After finishing the book in two days, let me just tell you, I fucking love that girl.  Her dry, sarcastic, judgey and ridiculous attitude poses for a perfect companion for this lady. 

First of all, I love when a woman doesn't have a problem admitting what an absolute crazy she is.  I am one of those women.  I'm neurotic, psychotic, emotional, and by definition, nuts.  But...in a fabulous way of course.  I believe my girl Chelsea to be the same.  She writes with wit and honesty as each chapter is a different story from her life.  Who wants to read about perfection, fantasy, and fairytales?  Trust me, reading too many of those romantic fantisies will only lead to arguments with the hubs when he doesn't surprise you with a scavenger hunt date that ends up on a beach with a picnic (I've never had an argument like this...it's just an example...).  She tells it how it is without a tablespoon of sugar and is a shit show in the process.  My life is pretty much a shit show right now so the fact that this bitch is putting her craziness in print made me want to kiss her on the lips (just an expression friends). 

Give it a read girls.  Even though I didn't like the fact that she hates coming home to a glass of wine and prefers vodka (not a vodka hater, just a wine lover), she is extremely entertaining and I'm already craving my next Handler purchase.

Who Am I?

Seriously...I am pathetic.  I used to pride myself on how physically fit I was.  I wasn't the skinniest one on the team but always made sure that I worked so hard that no one could out run me (I mean of course this exlcudes professional athletes, track stars, etc.).  Through my college days, I spent my time running, in the gym, or flirting with boys and drinking beer.  The running and gym time really did take up a great deal of my time and I prided myself on decipline and strength.  As I've mentioned, those days are long gone and now I have signed up to run a 10K and a half marathon in the next six months.  Here is the kicker...I am soooo ridiculously out of shape.  Seriously, I don't even recognize myself.

Yes, the scale says I've lost my pregnancy weight but it isn't factoring in the fact that I haven't pushed my body to run more than 4 miles or do circuit and weight training in over a year.  Over the past two weeks I have forced myself to start training.  I have been running (4 miles max) and am slowing getting into conditioning and strength training again.  Well...today proved to me how I probably couldn't chase down a 400lb cop out of a donut shop.  One word...Pathetic.

Brody and I decided to have a nice little home work out this morning.  Half of our basement is a gym so there was no excuse to be lazy on this rainy Friday.  We traveled down to the basement with toys, an ipod, and a super-set workout I found in Women's Health.  So...let me lay out the scene.  Brody is sitting in the corner of the room with his toys, bobbing his head to the music, and not at all interested in me.  I am warming up (pretty much having a dance party to Black Eyed Peas) and gulping water.  When the warm up/dance party song ends, I start.  It is an 8 exercise program and you perform each motion for 60 seconds, getting in as many reps as possible.  Great.  Well...chubbymcoutofshape starts and about dies.  I am sweating bullets within 5 minutes as my legs and arms BURN.  As I'm doing my jumping squats, Brody decides to get interested.  He is staring at me and starts to laugh.  It's not a chuckle, not a small giggle...he is hysterically laughing.  I try to tell myself that he thinks the jumping motion is funny but let's get real, he realizes his mom looks ridiculous and is absolutely dying. 

So, I begin to talk to my adorable son..."What's so funny?  You think it's funny that Mommy is doing this.  Well look at this Brody (as I pull my t-shirt up to show him the giggly stomach), you made Mommy look like this so Mommy has to work out like a crazy woman if she wants to wear a bikini this summer."  The grin on his face widens and his toys are now thrown to the side and he is just sitting, looking at this lunatic of a mother.  "I'm glad you're laughing" pant pant..."Now you realize how hard this is.  See, this is how much I love you that I want to be healthy and in shape for you.  Oh that's funny??"  This chit chat continues as I struggle to breathe and gulp water.  After 40 minutes of explaing to my son why I am doing this as I do push-ups, planks, lunges, etc. I am donzo.  "Fine Brody, if you don't want to hang out here any more, we'll go upstairs." 

Seriously, who am I?  I used to run circles around girls and had conversations with adults.  Now, I am barely breathing in my basement, doing a magazine workout, and having a serious conversation with my 6 month old.  Times they have a changed!

Brody's Big Day

As I've briefly shared, I have a big, Irish, (crazy) Catholic, family.  For me, family is so important and without the support and love of my family, I don't know how I would be able to function as a working mom right now.  I grew up Catholic, went to 12 years of Catholic school, and always thought faith was important.  Now, I am not saying that Catholicism is the "right"religion by any means...it is just all that I know.  My husband is not Catholic but when I was pregnant, we decided that we wanted our son to grow up with religion and wanted to baptise him Catholic.


Yes, many people baptise their babies after one or two precious months on earth but it wasn't that easy for us.  First of all, we had to take a class and getting both of our schedules, a grandmother or aunt over to babysit, and time away from work coordinated was not an easy feat.  Also, my grandparents hybernate in Florida for 3 months and would absolutley freak out if they were not present for their great grand sons baptism.  So, after planning, scheduling, and making sure it worked for all family members (both sides) we settled on a date when Brody would be approximatley 6 and a half months old. 


I actually thought this was better because he could wear an adorable three piece suit, not one of those girly gowns.  We were also planning a party afterwards to celebrate the precious prince and now he's a lot more fun than he was at one or two months.  So, our big day finally came this weekend.  For some reason, I was nervous.  My husband was up early getting drinks in coolers and iced down for the "afterparty" and as I got Brody into his suit, I couldn't help but tear up.  I felt a nervous pain in my stomach like it was my wedding day or something.  Yes, I am a very emotional woman but I never thought I would be this sentimental about his baptism.  As I kissed all over his chubby face, I truly realized how different my life is now that I've become a mother and how every juncture in his life is so emotional and important to me.

Check out that suit...


We chose my sister/best friend Katie as the godmother and my husbands best friend Patrick as the godfather.  Not only do I know that these two people love my son completley, but we trust and love them so much that we wanted them to be a very special parts of the Brodsters life.

With the godparents about to get dunked


The ceremony was wonderful and we had our closest family and friends there so it was perfect.  The "afterparty" was full of salads, gourmet sandwhiches, delicous cake, and of course, wine.  I know Brody won't remember it but it was a very special day for me and my husband and I am so proud of the trouper my son was all day long.  He really is an angel.

Brody with his parents and grand parents

No Bravo in the Bedroom?

For my job, I sometimes go to networking functions to meet new people, hopefully find leads for new business, and continue to keep my company on the forefront of business in the nations capital.  A few days ago, I was at a networking event making my way through crowds of people munching on mini crab cakes and sipping white wine.  Of course, there are the regulars, the vendors, the associates, and the few people that you actually want to have a conversation with in the hopes that it might lead to an exchange of business cards and a prospective new client. 

As I made my way through the beautiful room overlooking the mall, I was introduced to a man by one of my business partners.  At first it's small talk, name, what do you do, oh you like to run, blah blah.  He asked me what company I worked for and when I told him I worked for a coffee company, he responded with a quick "I don't drink coffee."  I smiled and gulped a sip of wine...what do you say to that?  Well, while I stood there for a second, trying to figure out what topic to bring up next, he continued.  "But, I do make coffee for my wife every morning and bring it up to her in bed."  As I put on my salesy smile, I comment on how nice that is.  He proceeds, "Yes, I make it every morning, bring it upstairs, then I prop pillows up behind her, give her her glasses, and she has her morning coffee in bed while I leave for work."  First of all, I'm thinking...is this man for real?  Yes, this is very nice but every SINGLE morning he does this? And this wife is really living the life.  She sips coffee while relaxing on a comfy mattress and he goes off to commute an hour to work.  Anyway, I comment on how nice that is.  Then I say, "So she has her time in the morning to relax, drink her coffee, maybe watch the news..."  I didn't know this was something wrong to say.  He stared at me like I had just said "So she has her time in the morning to relax and then bang your best friend."  Instead he says "Oh no, we do not have a tv in our bedroom.  We've been married for 27 years and we've never had one in our bedroom and never will.  It's not good for a marriage."  I looked at him again, now I have the "best friend banging" stare.

Someone else had joined our conversation at this point and added that she too had heard that it's better for a marriage and your sex life if you don't have a tv in your bedroom.  I proceeded to inform them that I indeed have a tv in my bedroom and although I've only been married for three and a half years, there is nothing slacking in the bedroom action category.  Also, I am the main advocate for having the tv in our room.  My husband has his huge flat screen in our family room and it is mainly locked on the golf channel, discovery channel, and movies that I have no interest in watching.  Because of this, I like to escape to my bed, curl up, and watch the Real Housewives,Teen Mom, and Sex and the City reruns (only a few of the ridiculous shows I love).  Yes, I love to read but if I was stuck in bed with nothing but a book every night, I would not be happy. 
So I propose this question...to tv or not to tv where you rest your head? 

Happy Friday Friends!  Here's a cute, chubby face to start your weekend with a smile...

Where is my personal assistant??

I think I need a detox from vacation.  Although we had a great, realaxing time there, things have been non stop and crazy since we got home.  In the future, I will definitely take a day or two off work AFTER we get home from laundry, Brody cuddling, and cleaning.  Getting home late Monday night and going to work early Tuesday morning does not help this crazy lady who wants a clean house, clean clothes, and serious son time after days away.  Where is my personal assistant?  This would all be done and done if he or she would actually show up for work (wink).  I guess you live and you learn.  While I take a few more days to recover from my Mexican getaway, here are some fun vacation pics to get jealous over.

Where we spent most of our time...AHHH

Hi...we're parents

Great friends...our first 20 minutes there on my favorite holiday, St. Patricks Day!!

Since we had to leave him on his first St. Patty's Day, I had to take this the day before.  Seriously, could he be any cuter?!?!