January 27, 2010

What the Heck? Wednesday: Please Let Me Out!

For the past week or so, I truly feel as though I’ve become a prisoner in my own home. Don’t get me wrong, I love my house and I actually love being at home most of the time, but throw in a kid with a fever and a hacking cough, and then throw in the terrible head cold that I caught from the little guy doing most of that coughing directly in my face, (poor little thing just wanted to sit in my lap the whole time he was sick, and I really didn’t complain at all because I’ll take cuddles whenever I can get ‘em) and you’ve got yourself one seriously cooped up woman.

I had been looking forward to last weekend for months. Every year, on whatever weekend falls around January 24th, my mother and I meet in Pittsburgh (my hometown) and stay with my grandfather for the weekend (he’s 89 and in a band…totally cool dude) and we go out for dinner at The Capital Grille to celebrate what would be my grandmother’s birthday (she passed away when I was 12). You really can’t beat a steak dinner at The Capital Grille (that is, unless Del Frisco’s ever comes to Pittsburgh), but even more so, you really can’t beat a weekend of hanging out with all of my family who still lives there. One thing is certain, whenever I take a trip to my hometown, I pretty much laugh from the minute I get off the plane until the minute I get back on the plane to come home. I seriously think that someone in Hollywood could write a sitcom about my crazy Polish/Slovak family. They’re awesome. And I just couldn’t wait to see each and every single one of them. And because of the fact that my sinuses were so clogged up that my right eye was practically swollen shut, I had to cancel my trip for fear of my head exploding on the plane. And I missed that dinner at The Capital Grille. And I missed seeing my family. And I missed out on a whole lot of laughs. Guess there’s always next year. What the heck?

On the one occasion where I did manage to make it out of the house last week, I got pretty psyched because Puffs tissues with lotion were 4 for $5 at the Big Y. I seriously don’t think that I’ve ever blown my nose more in my life than I did with this particular head cold. I think I went through a box and a half of Puffs in one day alone! At one point, I went to reach for one and realized that the box was no longer on the half-wall between our kitchen and family room where I’d left it. I started scanning the room, and that’s when I heard a sort of “shuffling” sound back in the kitchen area. I turned around, and my little man had taken my box of tissues, plus another empty box (yes, it was sitting on my counter and I hadn’t bothered to throw it away yet, and yes, it had been sitting there for a couple days), and was wearing them on his feet and saying that he was going ice skating. I realized that if the boxes were on his feet, then that meant the tissues had to have gone somewhere. I was right. He’d taken each and every single one of them out and they were lying on the floor in my dining room. And I had only used like two or three out of the box before he did it. What the heck?



(Don’t worry, my floors are relatively clean and I picked up those tissues and used every single one of them).

In the past couple days, things have really seemed to be looking up. Everyone is on the mend and I think this cold is finally exiting our house (or at least I hope it is)! I was so glad that my little guy was able to go back to preschool yesterday after missing all of last week. I was just so happy that he would finally get to play with his little friends again and do all sorts of fun projects. Ok, you’re right…the real reason I was happy about him going back to school is because I’ve grown accustomed to having a two and a half hour break twice a week and I really just needed a little time to myself. Everything went smooth as could be yesterday morning, and then I picked my son up from school and brought him home for lunch. (Ok, so I stopped and picked him up a Happy Meal on the way home, but whatever. Don’t judge. At least I fed the kid).

Somewhere around 1:30pm, the little guy announced to me that he needed to go poop. I followed him into the bathroom, sat him down on the seat…and that is when the screaming started. The poor thing managed to squeeze out a couple of teeny-tiny rock poops, but unfortunately the mother load was still in there, packed tight and totally stuck. I helplessly watched as my son tried with all his might to push that thing out of his little tush, but it was just way too big and it was hurting him way too bad and he just kept screaming and I honestly wasn’t sure what to do. This had happened to us a couple of times before, but both times he was a lot younger and didn’t really notice when I jammed a suppository into his butt for relief. The kid has definitely wised up since then. I looked at him and calmly said, “Mommy is going to run upstairs and get something that will help you, honey.” He looked right back at me and yelled, “NO MOMMMMMYYYY!! I don’t want you sticking your finger in my butt!”

Let’s be honest. I wanted to help my kid, but I really didn’t want to stick my finger in his butt either, and I knew that there was absolutely no way in hell that he was going to let my finger get within one foot of his rear end. I wound up just taking him off the toilet, pulling his pants up, and then taking him over to the couch where he proceeded to lay face down because he “didn’t want the poop to come out.” That’s when I realized that we were going to be stuck in this house for the rest of the day until the king of all turds made its exit. I had officially been taken hostage by a gigantic poop. What the heck?

I immediately started pumping my son full of apple juice and the apple dippers from his McDonald’s lunch in the hopes that the fiber would help him break loose. We made a couple more trips to the bathroom, complete with more screaming and no relief. And then I called my mom for support. And that’s when she informed me that FedEx would be showing up at my house that afternoon with a big box full of Valentine goodies for her grandson. And then the doorbell rang while I was still on the phone with her and my little guy jumped off the couch and ran to see who it was. And then he opened the door and saw that big box on the porch and just knew that it was something for him. And then I opened the box for him and he started opening all of his treats from Grams. And my mom was just so excited that the box came while I was on the phone with her so that she could hear his reactions to all of his presents. And then she had the pleasure of hearing the screaming that I’d been listening to all afternoon.

It turns out that the box arriving was exactly what my son needed to start running around and jumping up and down, which got his mind off the stuck poop. His excitement shook everything loose, and after watching him turn purple and holler like hell on the toilet while grabbing the little handles on his potty seat, and after coming back to reality after the flashback this gave me of myself in the labor and delivery room almost four years ago, I finally heard a nice big “kerplunk!” and a splash in the bowl. Thank GOD.

Later on that evening after the hubster got home, he took the little man upstairs to give him a bath. A couple minutes later, one of our neighbors stopped by to pick up some gift baskets that I am donating for a raffle at a benefit that he and his wife (one of my very good friends) are attending this Saturday. My husband looked over the railing in our foyer and yelled hello to our friend and our friend waved and yelled hello back to him, and to our son. Our little stud then peered down at him through the bars of the railing and said, “Mike! I had a big stuck poop today!!” What the heck?




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Posted Under: poop, What the Heck? Wednesday
January 20, 2010

What the Heck? Wednesday: Yes, I’m Still Blond

I’m sure that most of you know that about a month ago, I went out on a limb and finally ditched the blond hair I’d sported for a good 15 years or so and decided it was time for my darker side to come out. I have to admit, I am really enjoying my new look. It just seems to fit me so much better than the blond these days and is such a welcome change. However, I may officially be a brunette, but that doesn’t mean that I’ve lost all of my blond qualities.

First of all, I may not have the blond hair to go with it, but I’m still having more fun. In fact, I’ve been having a blast lately and I am just absolutely loving the whole vibe that 2010 is putting out so far. I feel like there are changes happening for the better in my little corner of the world, and they are really welcome changes, and I feel like things in my life are finally starting to fall into place and make sense.

Second, my hair may be brown, but apparently that doesn’t excuse me from continuing to have “blond moments” once in a while.

My little guy has been very sick this week with a terrible cough and fever. On Monday, I made an appointment to take him back to the doctor to hopefully get some antibiotics that he so desperately needed. (I pretty much had to hit the doctor over the head with a frying pan to get the prescription, but that’s another story for another post). I got my son all bundled up in his coat and hat for the appointment, put him in the car, went around to the driver’s side, got in my car, and pressed the little button on the remote to open the garage door. Then I turned on the engine and my seat warmer, and backed out of the garage. And that is when I heard a huge crash. And that is when I realized that I’d backed out of the garage before the garage door was all the way up. And that is when I realized that part of that garage door may or may not be hanging from the roof of my Jeep Liberty. And that is when I started to panic a little. What the heck?

I turned the engine off and told my son to “hang in there because Mommy needed to go check something out”, and went to inspect the damage I’d done. I was so relieved to find that the door was not hanging from the roof of my car, but it wasn’t exactly all the way up either and it looked kinda bent in the middle. I hit the button again to see if I could get it to lift, and that is when I discovered that I had knocked it off the track and that it was permanently stuck about halfway up, which meant that there was no way in hell that I was going to be able to back out of the garage, which meant that there was no way in hell that I was going to get my son to his doctor’s appointment, which meant there was no way in hell I was going to get him any drugs. What the heck?

I immediately went into “Mama Bear” mode at that moment because I was getting my son to that doctor’s appointment come hell or high water, or in this case, come hell or busted garage door. I saw in the bottom left corner where this metal pin had come out of whatever hole it was supposed to be in, so I went to work trying to bang it back into place and shove it back into the hole. Long story short, I eventually got it back in there enough where the door would go up and I could at least get out of the garage and get my son to the pediatrician, and I figured that the hubster could just deal with the residual damage when he got home that night. The guy loves a good project, so I figured I was actually doing him a favor (at least that’s what I told myself).

I was SO proud of myself for temporarily fixing the door that I kind of jumped up and down and did a little dance and was all set to hop in the car and get on my way, when I realized that my hands were completely covered in grease and my palms were totally black. I had visions of walking into the ped’s office and the receptionist seeing my filth and immediately telling me to “have a seat ma’am” and then shutting that little window separating her from the waiting room and picking up the phone and calling DCS on my ass. I may or may not have started to cry a little at that point, and I raced back into the house and into the half-bath and tried washing the grease off with the bright green Kan-doo soap that my son uses. When that failed (it didn’t even make a dent), I grabbed the container of hand scrub that I love using all winter that exfoliates and conditions at the same time and makes my hands silky soft (I may or may not sell the stuff part-time on the side at craft-fairs and such), scooped out a big gob of it, and started scrubbing away. And that’s when I felt the burning and stinging. You see, this miracle scrub is a salt based scrub, and when you get salt in an open wound, it hurts like hell. That’s when I looked down and realized that during my frantic attempt to do a half-assed repair of the garage door, I’d totally cut my fingers up. What the heck?

I didn’t get all of the grease off, but I figured that I looked clean enough and I did finally manage to make it to my son’s appointment on time. And the receptionist actually laughed at my little story and gave me some super-cool Daffy Duck band-aids for my mangled fingers. Of course, before we left the house, I couldn’t get the garage door to shut all the way, so I absolutely expected to find some sort of little “critter” hiding out in my garage and possibly picking through the trash cans waiting for me when I got home. What the heck?

(In case you were wondering, I got lucky on that one. The garage remained critter free and the hubster was able to fix the door no problem).

I’m happy to report that after two days of those antibiotics that I had to practically sell my soul for, the little man is doing so much better and is finally starting to act like himself again. I made the decision to keep him out of preschool yesterday since I’m not one of those moms who sends a sick kid to school to infect all of the other kids in his class, (although I may or may not have brought my son to a birthday party last weekend knowing full well that he had a cough and that it may or may not be the best idea, but that past Friday the doc had assured me that it was just post-nasal drip and that he wasn’t contagious. Hmmm…I think I may be in the market for a new pediatrician because now two of the kids from the party have the same thing as my son and their sympathetic, kind mother assured me that her kids did not catch the cough from my kid, but from her because she is a teacher and probably brought it home to them because so many kids in her class are sick right now. God I love her)!

Ok, getting back to that missed day of preschool for my little man. I made the mistake last week of telling him that Tuesday was going to be “the best day ever” at school because they were going to read Dr. Seuss and make Green Eggs and Ham!! For real, they actually make Green Eggs and Ham on this special day, and I know this for a fact because when my son and I went to visit this preschool last year, we happened to show up on Green Eggs and Ham day. I will never forget those cute little kids sitting around the circle and watching the teacher in complete awe of how she made those eggs green. And I just couldn’t wait for my little guy to experience it. And neither could he. And because of his stinkin’ cough he didn’t get to go yesterday. What the heck?

Maybe I’ll go out and buy some green food coloring today to try and make up for it.

A couple weeks ago, the hubster and I started the South Beach diet and I was really hoping to shed the seven pounds that I gained over the holidays so that my clothes would somewhat fit again. I got about four off, and then everything sort of came to a halt. Apparently I just have no self-control this month, so South Beach has gone completely out the window in favor of whatever this hogfest is that I seem to be indulging in. I spent half the day yesterday searching through my closet, drawers, and the laundry room for my favorite pair of “fat jeans” from Old Navy. They even have gold embellishments on the back pockets and look almost designer when paired with the right cropped blazer.

(photo courtesy of OldNavy.com)

As I sit here and type this post this morning, I still have no idea where in the hell those jeans are. Yesterday’s frantic quest to locate them was not successful. And it’s killing me. And it just isn’t fair after the week I’ve had. I think I’ll go make some Eggo waffles to console my grief over the loss of those jeans. What the heck?



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Posted Under: What the Heck? Wednesday
January 6, 2010

My First Winner and What the Heck? Wednesday

I want to take a minute to thank each and every one of you who entered my very first giveaway for the Crystal Light variety pack! I’m hoping to do more reviews and giveaways in the future and I really appreciate all the support that I received on my premier attempt!

The winner was chosen from random.org, and it generated #2…and the #2 commenter was my dear friend Kimberly! Congrats Kim…your variety pack is on its way!

In the spirit of trying to get back into a normal routine…I’m bringing back What the Heck? Wednesday. I took a little break from my Wednesday posts over the holidays…so it’s time to get them back up and running!

What the Heck? Wednesday

I guess I knew that “it” was bound to happen sooner or later, but when I say sooner, I meant more like when my son was about eight or nine years old…not three and three quarters. Yesterday, I plopped the little guy down on my bed and turned the TV on so that I could throw on some clothes and wash my face before dropping him off at preschool. It only took me about five minutes to get ready, and that’s when I turned to the bed to let him know that it was time to go downstairs and put on his socks and shoes and hop in the car, and that’s when I saw “it” for the very first time. What is this “it” that I’m referring to? “It” was the sight of my perfect little angelic child laying on the bed, totally chillaxin’, with one hand halfway down his pants and a little smile on his face. That’s right, my son pulled his very first Al Bundy yesterday. And I’m not ashamed to admit that even though I know he is in fact, male, I couldn’t help but feel just a little bit mortified by what I saw. I mean, isn’t three and three quarters too young for my son to have discovered that putting his hand down his pants feels kinda nice? What the heck?

One day over the Christmas break, I went over to one of my best friend’s houses so that our kids could have a much needed play date. They are together all the time and really missed each other and just couldn’t wait to tell each other everything that they wanted from Santa. We are so lucky, because our kids are totally used to each other and play so well together. So well in fact that on this particular day, we decided it would be fun to go ahead and open a bottle of wine (It was after 4:00pm, which is perfectly acceptable in my book on any sort of break or vacation) and have a couple glasses and chit-chat and catch up while the kids played in the other room. We should’ve known that something was up when things started getting kinda quiet in the playroom, but we were way too busy congratulating ourselves on how independent our kids were and how great it was that we could sit and enjoy a little vino without them interrupting us. For the record, next time we’ll intervene a little sooner when things aren’t at a decibel that is consistent with three year olds.

Needless to say, cleaning this up was a real bitch. Good thing we’d had a couple drinks. What the heck?

Ok, so I know that in my New Year’s Resolutions I said that I wasn’t going to beat myself up about carrying a few extra pounds around my middle this year, and I’m still holding true to that. However, I am also down to about two or three pairs of jeans that actually fit me after indulging in every delectable treat that I could get my hands on during the Christmas holiday season. I don’t want to go nuts and beat myself up and completely deprive myself of everything I love, but I also can’t afford to go out and buy an entire new wardrobe at this point. The hubster and I started the South Beach diet on Monday and all I want is to get back to my pre-holiday weight. I’m pretty sure that I’ve given up on wedding weight for good, but pre-holiday weight will at least let me back into my closet again. I am down four pounds since Monday (definitely water weight), and I’ve got three more to go. And I’m not allowed to have alcohol for 12 more days. And I really miss my wine. In fact I could totally go for a glass this evening. What the heck?



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Posted Under: reviews & giveaways, What the Heck? Wednesday
December 16, 2009

What the Heck? Wednesday

It’s that time again! I guess being on vacation doesn’t exclude me from being subjected to some What the heck? moments…

First and foremost, I was so delighted last week because my cute-as-a-button-butt-hanging-partially-out photo that I took of my son decorating the Christmas tree and used in my Merry SITSmas card was actually nominated in another blogger’s Christmas photo contest! That’s right!! My son’s butt-crack is now visible on the Parenting by Dummies blog in her “Boom Baby” feature. In case you need a refresher…here is another shot of the little guy’s rear:

Not that I’m biased or anything, but isn’t that the absolute cutest tush you’ve ever seen? I sure think so. Apparently I’m one of the only ones. My little guy’s photo is basically getting no love from voters in this contest. Last time I checked, he only had four votes…TWO of which were from me. I tweeted about the contest AND of course, posted it to my Facebook page. I’d like to thank my best friend from high school for casting her vote for the little guy. I’m not surprised that she took the time to do it because she is always behind me and my little man’s rear 100%. I was, however, surprised that none of my other peeps had a minute to show his little bum some affection. What the heck?

I’m hoping that some of my wonderful blog buddies can maybe give his photo a little shout out (hint, hint, wink, wink) so he at least winds up somewhere in the middle of the rankings…not DEAD LAST! (What the heck)? If you’d like to help my little nugget out and cast your vote, please check out the Boom Baby post and leave a comment with some reference to how photo #18 is the cutest damn crack picture you’ve ever seen. (In my personal opinion…butt cracks are just way cuter than nose pickers).

As I mentioned before, I am on vacation this week. The butt-crack bandit, the hubster, and I are in St. Augustine, Florida visiting my parents and we are having the most wonderful time! My hubby and I don’t get much alone time at home, but down here, my parents have pretty much taken over and have sent us out the door every single night for some much needed dinner-and-a-movie dates out. (We’ve actually seen not one, but two movies this week from start to finish…a new record)! I also finally get to complete an entire shower, blow dry, and makeup application before going out with my hubby alone so we can attempt to feel like some sort of a couple again and he gets to hold my hand and give me all sorts of compliments about how cute I look and how much fun we are having together. This is Florida, however, and there is still some humidity in the air, and due to that little fact, I haven’t had one good hair night yet. The minute I step outside, I look like I’ve woken up in a cold sweat. What the heck?

It never fails. No matter how good I try to do with my diet at home, the minute I step off the plane in this town, the hog fest begins. It’s almost like there is some sort of internal switch in my brain that gets triggered and fools me into thinking that I can eat five meals a day consisting of nothing but foods that are smothered, covered, fried, battered, or whatever other artery-clogging, fat-roll inducing word you’d like to add to that list. Every time I come down here, about three days into my trip my pants don’t fit, I have a couple zits popping through even though I am usually 100% pimple free due to my Skinlogics Clear skin care regimen, and I’m crunching on Pepcids like candy. When that third day hits, I usually conclude that I “just can’t keep doing this to myself”, and decide to cut back on the indulgence just a tad so that when I do go out on those date nights with my hubby he can actually get his arm around my waist on a nice after-dinner stroll through town, and so that my blemishes can begin to retreat a little so that my glowing complexion somehow makes up for my 80s perm-style hair that I’ve got going on. I usually do great for most of that fourth day…and then like clockwork, my mom goes and fixes something extra-super delicious for my son to eat for dinner. And he never eats it. And in my carb-withdrawal stupor due to the fact that I’ve made it through almost a whole day eating nothing but egg whites and salad, all I can do is stare at his plate and try with all my might to fight the urge to dig into whatever it is that he wants no parts of. Last night it was macaroni and cheese. The good white cheddar cheese kind. It looked and smelled incredible. Mom even threw in a spoon that was shaped like a bulldozer. He still wouldn’t touch it. I had four or five bites and then reached for my Pepcid. What the heck?





I woke up today and my feet were just so sore and tired from carrying around this extra weight from the extra ten tons of food I’ve consumed since I arrived here last week. I think my Mom could see my pain, so she suggested that I take some time for myself and go up the street for a manicure and pedicure. I don’t think she finished giving me directions to the nail salon before I was out the door and backed halfway down the driveway. I mean, what girl doesn’t love a mani-pedi? The place is only five minutes down the road, and I got there and they were all ready for me and I settled into my nice massage chair and turned the “knead” button on. I put my toes in the spa tub, leaned my head back and proceeded to shut my eyes and relax a little and enjoy the hour or so to myself. I was all set to doze off a bit…and then the woman in the pedicure chair directly next to me decided that she would grace the entire nail salon with the pleasure of her singing along to the Christmas music they had playing over the sound system. (At least, I think she was singing. I mean, she definitely thought that’s what she was doing). I’m not sure exactly who this chick thought she was, but all I know is the last time I checked, Simon Cowell doesn’t frequent St. Augustine Beach in his quest for the next Leona Lewis…and even if he did he certainly wouldn’t search for his next big star at Heavenly Nails. What the heck?

The Susan Boyle wannabe did finally stop her rendition of “The Little Drummer Boy” for a few seconds to inform the girl who was painting her toes that she, “just loves pedicures and that she is a total princess.” Well, thank GOD. At least I don’t have to worry about her taking up a singing career. What the heck?

The Mommyologist’s Last Word: “I was all set to post something really witty as my last word, but all I can say is why in the world is my cell phone ringing right now? Everybody and their mother knows I’m on vacation and that I don’t get the chance to see my family very often and that I like to take full advantage of the time I have with them. With all due respect…call me next week people! What the heck?”

Note: The last word does not apply to my dear friend who is taking care of my Christmas tree this week. I can’t get through an entire week without talking to her on the phone. She knows who she is…so I am telling her to feel free to call whenever she wants. Guess I have double standards when it comes to phone calls. What the heck?

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Posted Under: What the Heck? Wednesday
December 9, 2009

What the Heck? Wednesday

It seemed to go over well last week, so I’m trying the whole What the Heck? Wednesday thing again. I’ve had plenty of What the Heck? moments this week…here are a few!

This past Sunday morning, my wonderful hubby got up with our son and let me sleep in since I’d worked hard at a craft fair the day before (and I’d brought home a nice wad of cash that paid for dinner at one of our favorite local restaurants that night). I came downstairs and both boys were laughing and my son was getting a visit from the “Tickle Monster” (a.k.a. the hubster). I said good morning to both of them, gave the hubby a kiss and then asked my little man for a hug. He hopped off his Daddy’s lap and stood up, immediately pulled down his pajama bottoms and announced that he’d “peed a little bit in his pants” from Daddy tickling him. No hug for me. What the heck?

I am so excited because today my son and I are hopping on a plane and heading down to St. Augustine, Florida for a 12-day visit with my parents! My little one is going to get two Christmases this year…what a lucky guy! The header on the Weather Channel website today reads, “Winter Blast hauls blizzard, heavy snow, rain.” Let’s not forget the fact that it has been unseasonably warm for the past few months but for some reason all hell is supposed to break loose on the day we fly out. I have a feeling that we may run into a few glitches in our travel attempt today. What the heck?

I had the pleasure of going out for drinks and appetizers a couple nights ago with a good friend of mine from high school. We dug into the biggest plate of nachos you’ve ever seen, had a few cocktails, and some much needed laughs!

The manager of the restaurant came over at one point, I’m guessing because he wanted to see what all the giggling was about, and we informed him that his restaurant was our “new favorite girls night spot.” He was very pleased with this announcement and told us that he would be sending a special dessert our way. We ordered another drink, finished off the rest of our nachos and a nice big bowl of table-side guacamole…and then our server brought the check and Mr. Manager Man was nowhere in sight…and neither was our free dessert that he promised. I guess he figured we had pretty much made total hogs of ourselves and didn’t need any cake. What the heck?

The Mommyologist’s Last Word: UPDATE: After waking up this morning to much more snow than expected…we’ve delayed our travel plans till tomorrow…and my son is not happy about this. For now, I’m keeping him occupied watching Daddy snowblow the driveway. What the heck?



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Posted Under: What the Heck? Wednesday
December 2, 2009

What the Heck? Wednesday

Ok, so I gave the whole Wordless Wednesday a thing a shot and I have decided that: a.) it is virtually impossible for me to keep these posts wordless because I just have way too many thoughts running through my brain to not put them into some kind of wordful post, and b.) I just think it would be fun to try out something a little bit different to keep with the tradition of laughing and making fun of myself. With that said, here goes my trial run of what I’d like to call “What the Heck? Wednesday.”

I got the idea for What the Heck? Wednesday while sitting on the edge of the tub this morning trying to get through an entire blow dry without my son busting through the door and telling me that he either wanted a snack and a drink, needed to go POOP! (he always emphasizes the word poop when he says it so I decided I had to do his little phrase proper justice), or to ask me for the twentieth time in the last two days what my favorite part of The Grinch Who Stole Christmas is. As I watched myself in the mirror and tried to make each and every strand frizz free with the round brush, I noticed that my post-Thanksgiving “wine roll” on my belly was much more visible today than it has been in the past few days. And today I was actually wearing my fat jeans. What the heck?

After both of us were finally dressed and ready to head out for the day’s whilrwind of previously unnecessary errands (tune into tomorrow’s post if you’d like more info), my little guy announced that he really wanted to go out for lunch and that he reallllly wanted to go to Bertucci’s. Surprise, surprise! We live at Bertucci’s these days. We are probably there at least two times a week for lunch because my little stud is the worst eater on the planet, but he will scarf down Bertucci’s rolls and cheese pizza all day long, and I am just so ecstatic if that kid eats at all, so Bertucci’s it is! Most days that we go there, I try and be a good girl and order a salad with grilled chicken. Not today. I was just way too upset about my “wine roll” and figured that I needed something to comfort me a little, so my main squeeze and I shared a delicious cheese pizza. And now my fat jeans are starting to feel a bit tight. What the heck?

After finally getting home at around 5pm tonight after the Seinfeld episode that was my day (again, tune in tomorrow), I just had to pick up the phone and call my mom to fill her in on the day’s antics. Silly me for thinking that I could get through an entire 10 minute phone conversation with my mother without all hell breaking loose in my family room.

That’s right. The “Jungle King”, as he called himself, had turned my once somewhat clean family room into his own personal oasis and was now using the fireplace utensils as his “jungle tools”. What the heck?

After realizing that it was now nearing six o’clock, which meant that the hubster’s train from NYC had already arrived New Haven, which meant he was on his way home, which meant that I needed to get a pot of the chicken corn chowder that I promised him for dinner brewing on the stove, I determined that it was way past cocktail hour and that I needed to go ahead and open my vino (the wine roll is already THERE so, what the heck?), I went and got my fat bottle of $10.99 Pinot Noir, went to pull open the cute wine bottle stopper with my first initial on it that I’d gotten at a craft fair a couple of weeks ago and thought was TOO cute and was just SO psyched about…and the top part BROKE OFF. I was left with a cute little ball with my initial on it…and a rubber stopper completely STUCK inside the bottle…preventing me from getting my wine.

Ok, I know these photos are blurry, but WHAT THE HECK?

If you have a “What the Heck? Wednesday” moment you’d like to share…please feel free to comment below.

The Mommyologist’s Last Word: “Just in case some of you were holding your breath (I know I was), I managed to push the rubber stopper into the bottle of wine and I’m happily enjoying my second glass. Hope I don’t get some sort of poisoning from the plastic. What the heck?”


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