Shake Your Groove Thang

The Notorious MRA is becoming quite notorious for his love of dancing. The other night he was groovin' to some Bob Marley when Jonathan looked at me and said, "You know, when I was 24, my moves weren't much different than Morgan's."

To which I said, "Honey, they're still not much different and your 37."

Here's hoping Morgan's moves will continue to develop.

The one where MRA begins training for a career in competitive eating (watch out Joey Chestnut!)

Every year, for the passed six or seven years, Jonathan and I have found ourselves watching the annual Nathan's Famous Fourth of July International Hot Dog Eating Contest from the gym. Usually, it comes on about halfway through my treadmill or elliptical workout. I know, I know, this says plenty about my relationship with food and my body, but that is a whole nother Oprah episode/post!

So, back to hot dog eating. Up until a few years ago Kobiyashi was the reigning king. Then, the American, Joey Chestnut beat him out and has won ever since. Chestnut is currently the number 1 ranked competitive eater. Its not just hot dogs, there are, apparently, all kinds of competitive eating contests. There is even a woman, small in stature, that puts most of the men to shame. I secretly admire her. Well, I admire the ability to eat LOTS of food and stay thin. I don't admire the technique nor speed which is quite sloppy and a little disgusting (very disgusting after 30 minutes of cardio.)

It seems our little MRA, however, may have some natural inclination for this sort of competition. What do you think? Should Joey Chestnut and Kobiyashi be scared?

A Delayed Response

Most of you know that MRA just served a stint in the hospital after contracting some sort of virus. We sprung him last Wednsday and he is back to his former glory and then some. Since then, time for this blog has been limited. Here are just a few snipets of things that have crossed my mind during the last week and a half.

Hosptials are dirty - One would think that a hospital would be clean and sterile but one would be grossly mistaken.

There are no healthy food options in a hosptial - One would also think that trying to get something such as a piece of fish and some steamed veggies while trapped in a hospital with your sick 9 month old would not be an extraordinary request. On this instance, you have scampered right on past mistake and slammed head first into faux pas.  Doesn't it seem odd that a hospital, a place that is supposed to get you back to healthy, wouldn't have healthy food options? Which makes me think its a conspiracy and that they want people to remain in or return to the hospital - its probably part of their business plan.

It's impossible to get a good night of sleep in a hospital even if you are not the one sick.

Having his dominate arm/hand rendered nearly useless by an IV will not stop MRA from pulling all the tissues out of a box.

Being thrown up on really sucks. Being crapped on sucks more. Being diarrhea-ed on sucks even more than that. Being thrown up on and diarrhea-ed on in one day makes me a little angry. Being told afterward "Welcome to motherhood!" almost got Jonathan killed. Especially when this is, apparently, what fatherhood looked like... 

Yes, Jonathan left the hospital unscathed by vomit or explosive diarrhea.

And, I will leave you with this. In a crisis situation, I discovered that I am pretty darn good. I remain pretty calm, thoughtful, and can make decent decisions based on the information at hand. The stress doesn't bother me. It's after the crisis, in the lull of peace, when the full force of the afore mentioned crisis hits me that I lose it.

Moral of the story, if aliens invade the earth and attempt to destroy civilization, you can count on me to kick some butt and get you to safety. Just don't expect me to re-build your house when its over.  

Life's A Beach, and Then... You Get Sand In the Eye

Last Sunday we took MRA out to Lido key. It had been an eventful morning in which he had only slept in the car for a few short stints. I tried to put him down his crib but, really, that just pissed him off. He was on fire, WWWHHHHHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA for a full thirty minutes.

It was at that point that we decided (in a moment of brilliant clarity utter stupidity) to take a trip to the beach. One would think that we make it there pretty often considering we are a mere 7 miles from beautiful white sand and clear blue water but, in reality, life keeps getting in the way this year.

What we do do is talk about it. In a moment of spontaneity, we decide to pack up and head out. We pack the towels, the baby tent, the diaper bag, the umbrella, every one's various bottles of sunscreen, food for MRA and a couple of drinks for us and arrive promptly at 3 pm.

The good news about getting to the beach at this time of day is PARKING! So we park, we unload the car and load Jonathan up like surfin' Sherpa, I grab the kiddo and we head toward the sand.  About halfway to the water, Jonathan turns to me and says, "Did they widen the beach?" Neither of us could remember the walk being so long but then again, neither of us had ever to walk it carrying a 20lb baby and 20lbs of accoutrement.

We finally get to our spot, set up, and Morgan crawls off to play and explore the sand.

Except, he discovers he does not really like sand. He was particularly unhappy being the human version of "Shake and Bake" that his little body had become.

So, off we go to set him in the water in the hopes it would rinse off some of the sand.

He splashed.

He crawled.

He got hot and tired.

And then, he got sand in the eye (and some salt water, too.)

Aaaaand at 3:45, we resumed our roles as Sherpas and headed home.

Next week, a sand free, inflatable kiddie pool in the driveway! See you next year Lido Key.

Nine Months and No Limits!

Mobile is an understatement. There is no more sitting/standing by the crib for the monthly photo session. MRA's fave spot du jour happens to be the bath tub.

I found its much easier to follow his lead.

Let them eat Cake... Or Bread Pudding

So those of you who know me, know that I am not a fan of cake. I just don't like it and quite frankly I don't understand what the big deal is surrounding it. Jonathan does like cake BUT is such a cake snob that I have rarely seen him eat it. He thinks most cake is mediocre and not worth his time or the calories, with the exception of his mom's Red Velvet cake

This whole cake adversity is much to the chagrin of my parents who LOVE cake. Well, actually, my Dad loves cake, particularly chocolate (but he really just likes anything chocolate. Actually, he likes anything sweet). My mom, on the other hand, I am not sure about. I can't really remember the last time I saw her eat cake. In fact, I can't recall her really making over cake or ever really eating it (not to say she hasn't, or doesn't - I just can't recall it). I think the cake is an image thing for her. Certain occasions just call for cake. Right?

Well, no, not in our house. So EVERY major event in my life where dessert has been involved has been an issue. Them wanting the cake and me, not so much. We all remember the wedding, right? When I told them, there would be dessert but not in the form of cake, my dad told us it was a slap in the face of our guests. (Jonathan and I still make jokes using that line).

Not liking the cake, I totally didn't (and still don't) get that one. I mean, no alcohol at a wedding, that's an issue. No food, big issue. But as long as there is dessert, eh. But I digress...

I won't run down the litany of events (baby showers, christening, etc) where we have been asked whether we were going to have cake and the "discussions" that have ensued. I am sure you either can recall them or can make the mental leap.

So now, I have begun to think about MRA's 1st birthday. Of course we will have cake because I don't know if he likes it or not. And if he does become a cake eater, he can have cake (there is no secret agenda against cake.) I finally have an event where not only am I gonna have cake BUT the cake will be the splurge and its fun to think about the design, color, style, etc.

Naturally, I excitedly call the parental unit to discuss, thinking they are gonna be all about this conversation. Aaaannnd, nada. I tell my mom about my cake idea and she CHANGED THE SUBJECT. Are you kidding me, she did not even ask what flavor! Just, "oh, ah huh, sounds good. Did I tell you that we are going to Raleigh tomorrow on our way home?"

What the fuck? Maybe MRA will have a little cake and we'll have bread pudding.  How do you like them fondant apples?