The dogs in my life...

First off is my arch-nemesis, Savannah. Ever since Luke brought her home seven years ago, she's been trying to drive a wedge between us. I gotta give her props for persistence, though--she's watched us get married and have a small litter together and she still won't give up. She lives for the nights, I tell ya...she waits until I've fallen asleep, then stealthily crawls up onto our bed and snuggles with her one true love. I know her end game is to push me off the bed one night. Look at her...you can see the hatred in her eyes...

Then there's Lenny. I thought Lenny and I had a good thing going, but apparently it was just a one-afternoon stand. Since seeking comfort in my loving embrace, he has blatantly hit on at least two other women, right in front of my eyes. Watch out Emma and Ella (and all you other gals out there)...don't be fooled by his wily charms. He will love you and leave you and he won't look back.

And that brings me to a real man of a dog...my boy Wilson. Mandy and I found Wilson as a down-on-his-luck puppy, and he's had it hard ever since. From having to endure being called "Wee-wee" by Luke to being scolded by me for shedding his black hair all over the place or throwing up on my carpet more times than I can count, Wilson's always managed to keep his chin up. He can swim (unlike another lab that shall remain unnamed--oh who cares--it's Savannah!!! haha!!), he knows his place in this house, he sleeps on the dog bed, and he isn't afraid to roll up his fur and get dirty. He always wags his tail when he sees me, he gives me those cute doggy smiles and sometimes he comes up and puts his paw on my knee, just because.

You're my kinda dog, Wilson! Forget those other two. One of these days we're going to bust out of here and see the world together. First stop--Huntington Dog Beach, sunny California!!!

Trial and Error

Jenny and I had planned to meet at the park last night, and since it was so nice, she graciously packed a yummy dinner of chicken B-B-Q, baked beans and corn on the cob. Dinner was sooooo good, but we definitely learned a few things about picnicking with preschoolers in the meantime. First of all, if you decide to do it, take a xanax first, and then only take girls. Patrick started things off by spilling the sweet tea all over our blanket, and Ben kept things interesting by systematically planting his butt on everyone's dinner plate, one by one. Jenny and I made an unspoken pact in the beginning to just not care, so with a blind eye turned towards the boys, we had a great time.

After dinner the kids played their little hearts out. Mary Kate and Patrick managed to stay relatively clean, but Ben was such a filthy mess that I had to strip him before I put him in the car. He has put holes in the knees of all his pants this winter and now that spring is coming and he's still not walking, I guess he'll be getting those knees pretty muddy too. Too bad, I could've saved those clothes for a possible baby #3, but I guess I'll just have to throw it all away and pass on the baby! ;)

The rest of the weekend

After our date with Katie on Friday, I left the kiddies with my parents and went back home so Luke and I could go to my school's annual auction together. It's always a great (and somewhat wild) night, and this year was no different. The theme was A Night Among the Stars, so we were greeted by entertainment royalty as we walked the red carpet.

I tried to get cozy with one of the night's most popular guests, Captain Jack Sparrow, but he only had eyes for Princess Leia. *sigh* She gets them every time in that gold bikini. Why can't I have a drunk pirate???

The next morning, we headed back down to my parents' house and had an early birthday lunch for Patrick, who turns four next week (!!!!!). He got some cool stuff, including fire truck jammies and camouflage flip-flops. My son WILL wear flip-flops--even if they have to be camo to get him to do it!!!!

It was such a beautiful day that we headed down to the park to play. Patrick had a blast, except that he insisted on wearing his sandals and had to keep stopping to get mulch out of them. Thanks again for those sandals Katie--I can tell I'm going to just love them!!! ;)

Ben came down after his nap to play some. He had come with my parents while Patrick and I were at Katie's house and had a ball, but we weren't so lucky this time. Notice the scowl on his face. Then the unthinkable happened--Luke offered to hold his graham cracker for him. It was just too much for Ben. He laid down right there and howled and howled and howled...thus ending our trip to the park.

Joe!

Patrick and I went to see Katie and Joe yesterday afternoon. It was fun times as always! The boys played together really nicely, aside from eating a whole tube of toothpaste together while Katie and I lounged blissfully in the sunshine. Don't judge, it was really warm out and we were talking Idol.

They got really into playing doctor for a minute there...you can see Dr. Joe, head of the medical staff, struggling to diagnose what in the world is wrong with Katie. Finally, he brings in a psych consult from Dr. Patrick and the two of them get to work on her right away, taking every test imaginable--while Katie, ever diligent, keeps on taking snapshots for posterity. The final diagnosis--Blogitis. Joe kicks back in the M.D.'s lounge with some animal crackers and a Capri Sun and congratulates himself on a job well done.

Patrick took his reward in a slightly less manly way. He locked in on an old pair of Joe's sandals, which Katie was then forced to give to him to satisfy his obsession, causing him to go completely ballistic with glee. Patrick has a weird thing about sandals--he is like Carrie Bradshaw's long-lost twin. I can't explain it, I only hope he outgrows it. But for now, he's crazy about them, so thanks for Joe's hand-me-downs, Katie--you made Fat-pick's day!!! We had a great time with y'all--see you soon!

Bright Sunshiney Day

Today's weather was a breath of fresh air...warm fresh air, that is! Luke was home this afternoon when I got home from work, so we put Ben down to nap and made tracks for the great outdoors. Well, at least as far as the street outside our house. Patrick got a bike-riding lesson, a pick-up game of b-ball and batting practice with Luke; I got a head start on weeding the garden while re-hashing Idol with Katie. After that, we went up to our neighbor's house and Patrick held court with--count 'em--three girls after wooing them with popsicles...such a ladies' man!!!!
I have to say, I love these kind of days. When you wake up in the morning and the air feels cool and fresh and the first thing you think is NOT "When is the heat coming on already????"...that's a good feeling. I am very pleased with the groundhog this year...well done, little buddy!

Play hard, sleep hard.

Profile Shot

Name: Ben
Nickname: Benjamin Button
Age: Old enough to be walking
Astrological Sign: Scorpio
Zodiac Year: Year of the Rooster (which explains all the early rising)
Interests: emptying the kitchen cabinets, pulling books off shelves, climbing on end tables
Favorite Movie: Baby Neptune, Baby Shakespeare, and Throw Momma from the Train
Favorite Music: I jam to Rock my Soul and Supercalifragulisticexpialidocious
Favorite Book: Cardboard ones that can be easily digested
Industry: Poop-making
Occupation: CEO of Poops-R-Us

Race Day

What could be more exciting than watching a bunch of tricked-out cars drive in a circle 200 times, with nothing whatsoever to distract you from the monotony except a group of redneck commentators that use phrases like "If you're gonna do a gas-n-go..."? How about watching it with a three-year-old? Today is like Christmas in the racing world; it's the Daytona 500, and so I know what sound my TV will be making over and over again for the next four hours: vvvVVVRRROOOOOMMmmm..........
Yes, I'm beyond thrilled.

I was actually unlucky enough (when Luke and I were just engaged and I would still do a lot to impress him) to go to the Daytona 500, and I've never been more inclined in my life to take a gun to my head and end it all right there. My God, the repetitiveness of it all, it's completely maddening!!! I admit, the first lap when they really start driving fast is somewhat exciting, because the engines get really loud and it is really fast, but that gets old about...oh, three laps later. So then you're stuck for 197 more laps watching them go around and around, the same thing over and over...and it's so loud you can't hear yourself think, and you can't talk to anyone because none of them speak actual English, but instead some sub-form of the language--it's actually great preparation for having a preschooler in the house, now that I think about it.

Flashback: By Request

Back by popular demand...rarely seen pics of the infamous eighth grade class of '91. This time we have our end-of-the-year trip to Orlando, where the future bloggers took on Epcot and Universal Studios. This is a picture of me in front of the Nickelodean slime machine with our tour guide, Wayne or something. As 13-year-old girls, we thought he was ALL THAT because he was a struggling actor and had some bit part in Ghostbusters. Yes, we were losers in a major way, that much is clear. To highlight this fact, let me just point out that I am wearing sand dollar earrings, and I thought they were the bomb. Anyway, our infatuation with Wayne (or whatever) was unrequited because I never found him in Ghostbusters and I've certainly never seen him in anything else since. Poor Wayne.

I'm behind the camera in the next pic, but I managed to dig out one of Katie to share with all of cyberspace. She has no sea creatures dangling from her ears, but she is wearing her jammies and a fanny pack, so I think an equal amount of ridicule is in order here!!! Left to right is Katie, Cindy Fernandez, Diana Garicia (our resident Latina bombshell) and Jacqueline Horlbeck (who looks like a major sourpuss in this pic, but she was one of those girls that you wish you'd kept in touch with because you know she turned out super-cool).

And I know you can't see it, but you can be sure that every one of the girls on that trip was wearing really thick scrunchy socks and white Keds. In fact, I think I have a picture to prove it, but that's for another day.

Happy Valentine's Day

Today we went to Patrick's preschool Valentine's party. It was an awesome party, if only for the fact that I had nothing to do with it except to send in juice boxes. They started out by doing circle time, which I guess Mrs. Cindy is really proud of, but this time Patrick happily participated, so I was glad to see it again. Then they played "Musical Hearts", and the mom that put that together must've had a flat-out genius for a child, because none of the other kids got it. After three rounds (singing Jesus Loves Me, Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer, and Life is a Highway), they were all still perfectly happy to stand three to a heart so no one would get left out. Kudos to Mrs. Cindy on the sharing pep talks, nice try to the room mom, but no dice!

Here's Patrick eating his heart-shaped sandwich. His shirt says "Hunk of Burning Love". Oh yeah, baby! Ben commanded a whole table to himself to eat lunch, so we'll see how he does when he gets to the 3's class...

Us mommies got another little gift--lets hope I can hang onto this one a little longer; I only had the Altoids tin for about two days before Patrick gave it to Luke's Grandma*sniff*--they took the kids' glamour shots and put them in cute little frames for us:

Awwwwwww, yeah baby...eat your heart out Lenny, there's a new ladies man in town! Old Blue Eyes himself can't even compare. I never knew Patrick had it in him to be so debonnaire. Maybe it's time to get rid of all the camo and restock the closet with zoot suits...

Raindrops keep falling on our heads...

As promised, today has turned out to be not-so-nice weather-wise. It's not cold yet, but the rain has set in and it is dreary, dreary, dreary. A great day to turn the kids loose to their respective preschools and head to work! Not a great day for the pups, unfortunately...

Don't let their sad mugs fool you. They have plenty of dry space to take cover under, so it's not my fault that they're soaked to the bone when I get home. Besides, they ought to love this opportunity...they can milk it for all it's worth when Luke gets home. Yep, I guarantee that tonight while I'm watching Idol, they'll be camped out on my bed with him, probably with their heads on my pillow, dreaming of car rides and milk bones and French poodles. I tell ya, it's five against one in this house...

Get Red-Nekkid

It was a WARM afternoon! I always try to enjoy these winter escapes, but I can only enjoy it so much knowing that it will be cold again in a day. Patrick made the most of it, though...why is it that kids' favorite outfits are their birthday suits???

Yep, there's my good old boy, having a good old time, shirtless in the February sun. He calls it "wearing his belly". The look is topped off quite nicely by camo pants and undies that say "Slugger" on the waistband.

A Battle of Epic Proportions

Friday, after Ben woke up with yet another disastrous head of hair, I decided it was time to take drastic measures against permanent bedhead. For crying out loud, Patrick was six months old when he got his first haircut at a barber shop; here Ben is--fifteen months old this week--and he has yet to have more than a few stray hairs snipped off now and then. Since Ben is notoriously bad about haircuts, I decided to spare myself the headache of taking him to the barber shop and tackled the job myself. And oh what a job it was! It was not unlike trying to cut a wild grizzly bear's hair, with much wailing and gnashing of teeth. The battled continued for over an hour, tensions ran high, tempers flared, but alas I forced him into a quiet submission, with him bending over the front of his high-chair and moaning a repeating, babbling mantra. This worked out well for the both of us, since it served to calm his weary soul, and I still had the back to cut, which is the hardest part when he's thrashing around. In the end, I was rather pleased with the job that I did, and learned a lot doing it. I only remembered after I cut the front that he has a funny hairline and will always have to have bangs, but they'll grow back in a month or so, and then I'll remember not to trim the top so close anymore. Either way, I've given him a nice, short, even haircut--rather than the moppy mess he was sporting before--which will grow back nicely and allow me to keep tabs on it from now on. Without further ado, I present to you, little Ben, all shaven and shorn:

Since I was on a roll, I decided to trim up Patrick's hair, too. So I sat him down after lunch and went to work. I looked up a few minutes later to see Ben walking from one side of the kitchen to the other, no hands! Of course I messed up and made a big deal over it, causing him to realize what he was doing and drop to his knees immediately. He has yet to repeat this move, but hey, at least he's trying it out.

Fixed!

WHEW! That was a close one! Where would my life be without blogging? I'd have to fill my time doing something wholesome, like reading novels or volunteering...or actually playing with my children...

Anyway, Ben woke up yesterday with a dire case of bedhead, but he was all kinds of snuggly, so it was cute. Here are some shots:

Flashback returns next week! I promise it'll be good!

Blogger's block and other woes...

Not that I've even remotely had anything to blog about recently, but now my USB cord seems to be kaput. You guys better pray that's all it is, because if I need a new digital camera...well, that'll be the end of "Forever in Flip-Flops" as we know it...

I suppose I'll still be back tomorrow to scan in this week's pick for Flashback Friday.

Pooh.

Spoons are overrated.

Super Bore Weekend

While Mandy was visiting Phlegm City this weekend, I was stuck in a fun little place called H&R Block Hell. Last year, I e-filed with them online without a hitch, but this year, there seem to be hitches--er, glitches--all over the system. I was stuck on the internet fooling with that thing all weekend and well, to make a long story short, their tech team is working on my case and I'll hear back in 48-72 hours. Yeah, right...grrr.

So needless, to say, there wasn't much time for blogging, but Katie called and threatened a citation if I didn't get on the ball, so here we go. Besides desperately trying to find a live human being who works at TaxCut, I also stupidly decided to upgrade my Norton Internet Security, which also turned out to have a glitch. But with the help of Abdul, who may or may not have been a cyborg posing as a customer service rep, this problem was fixed relatively quickly--and when I say quickly, I mean in under three hours.

While I wrestled with the evils of cyberspace, the rest of my family settled in to watch twenty-four hours straight of Super Bowl coverage. Ben was happy as long as he got to hold the remote, and Patrick thought Prince's halftime show was so hot he had to go put on his turnout gear.

Savannah was mad when she found out the Bengals weren't playing, especially after she took the time to paint her body in support. She refused to watch the game and wouldn't even look at me for the picture. Wilson, on the other hand, totally took advantage of me being tethered to the computer and stole my People magazine to curl up and fall asleep with. Traitor.

All in all, it was a terrible weekend, and I will reiterate what I have been saying all along: everything gets better when Spring comes along. That groundhog better thank his lucky stars.

Flashback: Then and Now

Another week has gone by since last week's flashback and still the weather is frigid, only now instead of being sunny and cold (tolerable), it's dreary and cold (insufferable). What is going on already? I will not listen to cop-outs like "it's February"--that is a lame excuse in my opinion. Christmas is over, it's time for spring. Period.

And so we're back to dreaming of warm days...really warm days back when life was all innocence. Well, almost all innocence, save for the itsy-bitsy teeny-weeny green piece of spandex that's stretched over my tush. Geez, I'm showing more skin here than a Vegas showgirl! Well, if you've got it, flaunt it--and I had it! SNAP!

This is David and me, spending one of our long three-month summer vacations at the Connecticut shore. Those were the days. See the jetty going out into the water behind us? When the tide went out, that thing would be a good four or five feet above the water and we would run out and jump into the ocean with wild abandon. We didn't care about what was lurking below and our parents didn't worry about us either...the world was a safe place then, even the sharks were friendly! We would swim out to the sandbar, which was quite a distance from the shore, and play quite happily, never worrying what was going to come along a take a nibble. That beach was covered up with jellyfish, but who cared? We swam with them anyway. And when we were done swimming with them, we'd catch them in buckets and hack them to pieces with our shovels. If there are significantly less jellyfish in the world today, it's because of the vigilant efforts of me, David and our group of beach buddies. You're welcome.

Yes, things were different back then...or at least I remember them differently. The memories that I have of playing on the beach will NOT become a reality for my kids. There will be no swimming out to the sandbar or jumping off ledges into the depths unknown. Not that my mom made bad choices, but as I said, things were different then. For pete's sake, Patrick has yet to spend a summer at the beach where a shark has not come mere inches from his body!!! But there's always the possibility that I'm remembering this wrong, that the sandbar was actually 10 feet from the shore and that I was only allowed to jump into my mother's waiting arms--in which case I'm sure she'll set the story straight. But don't set me too straight...I like the memories.

It's called art, people!

Patrick is once again changing the world through the power of his photography. This time it is fairly obvious that his art has matured, with his focus being on simplicity. He found his muse in the computer armoire in our bedroom. Note the emphasis on repetition and skilled display of clean lines. His creative vision boggles the mind.

This one is entitled simply Self Portrait. Notice how he has shunned the mainstream idea of a self portrait and only included the lower half of his face. It's artistic genius!