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It’s been a whirlwind couple of months at the THD household.

 

We kicked off November with ear tube surgery for mini hubby.    This was necessitated by about 14 million ear infections since we started day care (ok, maybe not 14 million – he was after all, only a year old.  But, let’s just say one little munchkin shouldn’t have been on as many consecutive doses of antibiotics as our little guy was).  About 2 weeks after surgery, mini hubby was toddling along, and as new walkers tend to do… he toppled right over……… fracturing his little mini wrist.  Have you ever seen an x ray of a of a tiny little hand.  It’s like a freaky, mysterious picture with tiny floating little bones…. It’s just NUTS!

Xray Nov 2013 (2)

None of this stopped him.  He still laughed, and giggled and toddled around the house like he was a skilled tight rope walker (minus the tiny balancing line and plus a whole new dimension to balancing with his itty bitty little cast).     Hubby could learn a lot from the little guy.  He’s tough as nails and none of this phased him.  No awfulizing.  No grumbling.  No complaining.

 

Then Thanksgiving week came and mini hubby brought home the plague from day care…. And, it wiped out the entire family.   I think it was Rotavirus. And, if you’ve never experienced lovely ailment… I’ll say a little prayer that you never do.   Hubby and I spent all night with dueling bathrooms as we raced past each other to vomit and twist ourselves into a pretzel as we agonized with the worst abdominal pain ever.  A few days earlier,  mini hubby had vomited a bit, cried a bit and then toddled around the house throwing blocks and racing cars.  Man, he’s a trooper… and he recovered quite nicely as his dad and I prayed for death for a full 24 hours as we dealt with this doozy of an illness.

 

You may recall how hubby deals with sickness (if you forgot you can get a refresher HERE).  For me, it was simply wonderful.  There’s just nothing better than throwing up all night and then getting out of bed the next day to care for your toddler and your sick husband…. All the while, wondering how you could possibly vomit more when you haven’t eaten anything for hours upon hours.  This lovely day ended with a trip to the ER to treat hubby for dehydration.  Yes folks, it’s been a fun holiday season.

 

So we are definitely in need of some Christmas magic… BUT, we are getting there….. S L O W L Y……

I have revived the Hubby Diaries version of “A Very Married Christmas”… if you’ve missed it (or would just a reminder chuckle – click HERE or on the image below!)

Christas Poem 2013

 

Now if only the Christmas magic would wrap my presents AND bake my cookies AND clean my house AND finish my laundry AND.. AND… AND……

 

HAPPY CHRISTMAS TO ALL!   Hope your holiday season has been less dramatic and more pleasant than ours so far……………………………….

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If you’ve ever had a sensation, any sensation, then this story might just irritate you as much as it did me.  Because, contrary to many beliefs (most of which come from hubby), not all sensations are good sensations and what may be a good sensation to one person may not necessarily be a good sensation to another.  And no, regardless of where your mind just went… this is not at all about S E X.

 

So, please let me explain.

 

Sometimes I like to make impulse purchases.  You know, the kind when you’re shopping and randomly come upon something  that you didn’t think you needed, but now that it’s staring you straight in the face, beckoning you, you decide now is the time to buy.

 

I’ve wound up with random household décor items this way.   I’ve found a new home for a pair of sunglasses that seemed to jump out at me as I was on my way to buy cleaning supplies.  Just last week, I came home with new bath towels.  Not because I needed bath towels but because they were there.  I was there.  They were on sale.  I was there.  I imagined them in my bathroom and then *poof* they were magically in my hands.

 

Sometimes hubby benefits from this wonderful trait.  He’s come upon a new bathing suit, some shorts and even box of cookies all because of my fine-tuned, impulse buying abilities.

 

And sometimes, he benefits in a very unintended way.

 

I was grocery shopping recently.  You know, a task that I cannot send hubby to do because sending him to the grocery store actually creates more work for me (In case you didn’t read about the last time he tried to grocery shop please go HERE.  Go ahead, I’ll wait.)  As I was checking out, staring at that at the rack filled with impulse items, I had a weak moment and I bought myself a treat.  One of the best kinds of treats.  Better than towels.  Better than a candle holder.  It was one of those items where you tell yourself, I’ve had a hard day, I’ve earned this.  A treat of the edible, chocolate variety.  I bought myself a Kit Kat and a York Peppermint Pattie.

 

I tossed these treats into my purse as I loaded my cart with bags of groceries.  Then I got in the car, likely side tracked by God only knows what (since my brain doesn’t work anymore since I had the baby) and I forgot I had rewarded myself with these delectable bits of heaven.

 

The next day I’m getting ready for work and I spot the treats peaking at me from my purse.  So, I take them out and gingerly place them on the counter… right in the spot where my purse always sits.. to await my return.  Now, if I’d been hubby I would likely have stuffed these babies into my mouth right then & there.  Never mind that it was 7:00am or that I had just brushed my teeth.  He would have stood there wiping his mouth as bits of chocolate dropped onto the floor & counter only to be discovered (and cleaned) by a not so happy wife later.  But I digress.  I am not hubby and I wanted to leave them so I could savor them at the appropriate moment in the future.

 

So…. Imagine my surprise later, when I return to the spot where I stowed away my treats, only to….  W  A  I  T…… where are my treats??  I see the Kit Kat BUT, the Peppermint Pattie is gone.  Is it under these papers.. NO?!  Has it fallen to the floor…… NOPE!?  Uhm, did the fairies take it????  WTH.  I want my Peppermint Patty NOW and it’s gone.

 

I yell across the house… “Hey hon,  I had a Peppermint Patty here on the counter… did you see it?”

And from a distance I hear…. “Uhm, yeah, I saw it”

 

And that’s when the sensation starts….. a sensation that something is not right.  A sensation that something is amiss.  A sensation that I somehow, some way, got screwed out of enjoying MY Peppermint Patty.

 

 

And then, I’d like to say sheepishly, but it was probably more like - sheepishly proud of himself, hubby comes over.  And you know what he says?????????

Swiss Alps15

 

“I saw the Peppermint Patty.  I saw it on the counter.  I saw it unwrap.  I saw it enter my mouth.  And, then I had the sensation of the skiing in the Swiss Alps with a cool fresh breeze blowing in my face.  And, you know what….” He says…….  “ It was AWESOME”.

 

 

And then, he got to enjoy the sensation of me punching him square in the jaw.

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Some of you may recall that I like to make up silly songs…. HERE is a link to a very old post, if you don’t remember or are a new reader.

 

If you’ve decided not to go back and read that post here’s the gist – I think everyone should have a life filled with song.  I like to sing old commercial jingles.  I like to sing cheesy 70s songs.  I occasionally make up words to traditional music that appropriately matches whatever inane task I am doing.  Hubby has a stick up his a………. ok… maybe that was too harsh……. Hubby is a stick in the mud.   Ok, that’s not actually true at all………….. But hubby does have a distinct response to my behavior that resembles something like eye rolls and sideways glances…………  Yeah, that’s about right.   Hubby doesn’t have “silly” in him.  He has fun.  He has entertaining.  He has amusing.  Delight.  Funny. Witty.  Engaging.  Comical….. you get the picture.  BUT, he doesn’t really do silly.  I think underneath that tough(ish) exterior he enjoys silly (he did marry me after all) but he doesn’t DO silly.

 

So anyway… add a baby to your life and all of a sudden “silly” becomes acceptable.  Maybe even expected.  UNTIL, I apparently take it too far……….

 

Everyone knows the “Wheels on the Bus” song.   And, the beauty of this song it that it’s just so dang easy to change the words.  I have put everything imaginable on the bus.    There have been grandma’s saying “hush”, babies saying “waaaaaah”, mommies saying “I love you” …..all the traditional bus items: doors, windows, wipers, gas, coins and so on….

 

But then one day, I all of a sudden have animals on the bus………… And then, while hubby was listening, I added a chicken……. “bock, bock, bock”.  And he said, from across the room….

 

“Stop That Bus!”

 

“Did you just say there was a chicken on the bus?”

“Uhm, yeah” I replied

And he said, “ What are you teaching him??…. There are not chickens on buses.”

“Well, there is a chicken on MY bus” I said, with all the rigor of a mom being challenged

To which he of course, responds…. “Where is your bus….in India?”

“Maybe.  Or maybe, it’s just down the road, and it’s a bus that happens to have chickens”

 

Humph… he replies..

 

And off I go, continuing to sing…

 

“The lion on the bus says ROAR, ROAR, RO…..”

“Hold on…. There’s a lion on the bus??” he interjects

“Yep, this bus has chickens AND lions.  And you know what, they get along famously…………..”

“There are no lions on the bus.” He declares (a smirk growing on his face……….)

“How do you know what’s on my bus?  If you want to change what’s on the bus, you sing the song………..”

 

Humph… he replies again.

 

And then I continue on my merry way filling the bus with “silliness”…..

 

Now I feel the need to incorporate Daddy into my song, who obviously has no imagination and no ability to sing silly songs (which is ironic given the tall tale he told our neighbors kids about Joe the Cricket Herderbut I digress….)

 

“The Daddy on the bus says…. Get. Me. Off!”

“Hang on” hubby says “Did you listen to what you just said??”

“Yes, the Daddy doesn’t want to be on the FUN bus with all the animals” I reply

And hubby says again…. “No.  Did you actually listen to what you said?”

“Oh, uhm…. Welllllll, that’s not what I meant………..get your mind out of the gutter…………”

“You just put a pedophile on the bus……..”

“Oh good lord.” I say to hubby…. and I look back to the baby (who is happily enjoying my rendition of the song) and say “The people on the bus, they kick Dad off… kick Dad off… kick Dad off…………..”

 

What’s your favorite version of this song???

 

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As we approach the 4 month mark of having a little one in our lives… I have learned quite a few things.

 

  • I have learned that when you think he’s done pooping… he might actually not be done at all
  • I have learned you will go many places and interact with many people, with spit up all over your clothes…. and you’ll be quite smelly but you won’t care
  • I have learned that the amount of laundry you need to do can, in fact, rival the amount of linens cleaned at a 500 room hotel
  • I have also learned that you can indeed function with virtually no sleep and that the # of times you can put a pacifier back in a mouth borders on 962 times in one night.

 

But, perhaps the biggest learning of them all can best be outlined by a Top 10 list.  So, here goes…………

 

The Top 10 Things a Man Will Hear (while he’s asleep) BEFORE He Hears A Baby Crying:

 

10.   A car alarm 6 blocks over, in the middle of hurricane force winds, through double paned windows.

9.    The “splitz” sound made by a can of beer opening at the neighbor’s house, during a party with a live band

8.    The low hum of a sub-woofer turned on in the basement man cave when he’s 3 floors above it

7.    A bad call made by a referee at a football game, 60 miles away

6.    The rumble of a motorcycle 6 towns over

5.    The *bleep bleep* of a text message, from the pocket of a coat that’s in the closet

4.    The crinkle of a package of Oreo’s opening

3.    The bubbling of cheese on a hot, fresh pizza

2.    The zipper of a woman’s pants coming off

 

And, the #1 thing a man can hear, while sleeping….  The sales clerk changing the shelf price of a 72” tv at the local Best Buy to be “on sale”

 

What does this all mean??  It simply means that unless I kick hubby in the middle of the night while I’m holding the screaming baby up against the side of his head… he will not hear him (or so he says…..)

 

And, just to prove a point, I googled this phenomenon.  And, found THIS article.  And holy crap, it actually justified all of the above (DANG IT!) And, since you know how things go in my house, it’s probably no surprise that hubby likes to refer me back to this article anytime I start to complain……………

 

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This post is about poop.  So, if you don’t like stories about poop, if you’re easily grossed out or if you have a weak stomach, you may want to pass on this one.

 

Or, if you happen to be on a lunch break and have a sandwich in your hand, you may want to come back later.

 

Consider yourself warned.

 

Babies poop.  Yep.  They poop a lot.  It’s messy.  It’s smelly.  It’s gross.  And, sometimes it’s explosive.  Now, this is not necessarily new information.  For centuries new dads have been avoiding poop as much as possible.  They miraculously disappear the moment a slight odor permeates the air.  They have all of a sudden remembered that the tires need to be rotated on the car, or the lawn needs mowing or (GASP!) the laundry needs doing.   Yes, I do believe many men would rather take on the dreaded task of laundry rather than change a poopy diaper.  But this post isn’t actually about poop avoidance tactics, although I’m sure you could each share stories of your own.  This post is about hubby’s participation in poopy diapers.  And yes, I’ll repeat it for those of you who think you misread…. Hubby does, in fact, participate in poopy diapers.   And that, my friends, is where the funny  comes in.

 

Our little one has had some gastric issues. He’s on formula that causes constipation… and medicine that, well, let’s say, eases the constipation…….  All this being said he can go 48+ hours without having a bowel movement.  The poor little guy pushes and pushes for hours and never seems to get anything out.  Now, this medication doesn’t just help get things moving, it helps set up scenarios that no parent ever wants to witness much less clean up.   Yes, this medication, added to 48 hours of pushing, very often results in poopsplosions, the likes of which you can’t quite appreciate until you’re elbow deep in stinky, smelly poopies.  (I warned ya, this post was pushing the poop story limits…………)

 

poopI am still on maternity leave.  This simply means that I spend all day with our little one.  I have had diaper explosions on my lap.  I’ve cleaned poop off his legs, back and even out of his hair. I’ve tactically figured out how to remove poop covered garments from over the head with minimal poop transfer.  I’ve unsuspectingly picked up our little guy without realizing the poop had escaped his clothes and I’ve had it all over my shirt.  Suffice to say, that in 3 short months, I’ve been covered in and cleaned up more poop that I ever imagined possible.  And, just like they tell you… somehow it’s ok, when it’s your own baby.  Still completely gross…. But somehow ok..

 

So, now that I’ve set the stage let me tell my story.

 

One day, hubby is holding the baby and he hears the sound we like to celebrate.  Yes, when you have a constipated baby… you DO actually celebrate each and every bowel movement.  So, he promptly takes the baby to the changing table to get a new diaper.

 

I hear him in the other room … “Holy crap…”  he declares “I’ve never seen so much poop!”.  “Hon” he calls to me  “this is an insane amount of poop”.  So of course, I go into the room to see.  Yes, this is another absurd behavior of parents (one that I couldn’t have quite imagined).  You actually share poop stories and even show poop to each other.   Ok, maybe this is just us………………..  Anyhow, when I look at the diaper, I simply say to hubby.  “That’s nothing!”  since I am now a poop expert, I know that this particular diaper filled with poop is not ‘an insane amount of poop’.  I’ve seen an ‘insane amount of poop’ – those are the days I’m cleaning it out of the baby’s hair.  So, I tell hubby “Honestly babe, that’s nothing.”  And, as hubby continues to rant about the amount of clean-up he must do,  I watch him as he pulls his three hundredth wipe from the container.    “Uhm babe” I say to him “Are ya gonna leave any wipes for the next diaper??”  He’s instantly defensive…. “how am I supposed to clean this all up without using this many wipes?”   And then, I’m on my way into the other room because obviously we need another trash bag to hold an entire bin of dirty wipes…………..

 

As I get into the other room I yell to hubby… “Honestly, that wasn’t a lot of poop.  I wouldn’t be surprised if he was going to go agai……..”   and, as I say this, I hear hubby yelling….”OH MY GOD!  He’s going AGAIN!!!!!!!!!!”  And, I silently chuckle to myself as I realize that he now fully understands the definition of “an insane amount of poop”.

 

At this point I realize that hubby might need help… or maybe it’s just my evil side wanting to spectate as hubby tackles this mess.  So, I go back into the room where he’s changing the baby.  I watch him as he holds the baby’s legs way above his head so he doesn’t lay in the poop that’s now all over the changing table.  He’s grabbing handfuls of wipes… he easily must be on wipe #478.  He’s cleaning and shifting the baby and then……. I hear sucking.  And, as I look at our cute little guy who seems to be contorted like a pretzel, as daddy is elbow deep in dirty wipes and more focused on clean-up than baby.  I realize that dad has him bent so far in half that he’s now sucking on his own big toe!   “Uhm hon, look at what you’re doing to him!  You have him bent so far, his toe is in his mouth!”

 

And, surrounded by dirty wipes, smelly poop and one heck of a mess, you know what hubby’s response is???     “He’s been wanting to do that since the day he was born.  After all this, the least I could do is to help him figure out a way to get his toe into his mouth!”

 

 

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Oh Sandy….

Every time I say “Oh Sandy” (which I’ve been saying a lot lately) I have visions of John Travolta dancing through my head.  It’s just too bad that the “real” Sandy that I’m referring to isn’t filled with song and cheesy dance scenes. 

 

Yes, my last post  speculated that I was “back in the saddle” and getting enough sleep to start blogging regularly  AND THEN…. we were hit by hurricane Sandy and, if you’re a new reader, you may not know that hubby & I live at the Jersey Shore.

 

Now let me start by saying that we are all ok… As hubby likes to say, our new little one “earned his man card” by weathering the worst hurricane this area has ever seen.  He actually slept quite peacefully in what we have affectionately deemed his “Big Ass Bunny” (but we’ll leave that story for another day).    We live far enough in land that we were not impacted by the horrible surge that decimated much of our coastline.  And, we are EXTREMELY lucky in that all we had to deal with was a few days without power.  Many of our friends and neighbors were not nearly so lucky.. there were so many fallen trees and power lines that damaged people houses and littered our neighborhood that I consider us to be more than fortunate.    Maybe, just maybe, someone was looking down on us and thinking geez… maybe we should spare them.  They did just have a different kind of hurricane come into their lives… one that was 6 lbs 9oz and required multiple, emotional trips back to the hospital.  Maybe, we were spared because someone knew my mental stress capacity was at it’s limit.  Or maybe someone, somewhere, was thinking: We better not hit her too hard or she may never, ever blog again!

 

I like to think, for all your sake, it was that last one that really happened….. so that I can attempt, once again, to climb back on the blogging horse and amuse with you anecdotes from our lives.

 

So here goes it……………

 

In case you don’t recall my post from last year when Irene came to visit us.  Hurricane prep was not our strong suit.  Well, I’m happy to say we learned from that debacle and we were vastly better prepared this time.  Mostly because we already owned a generator due to that last storm (If you haven’t read that post HERE it is.  Go ahead and read it, I’ll wait right here).  So once again I bought our french toast supplies and some bottled water and we awaited the storm.  Then I realized heck, we have a baby now and we should be MORE prepared.  So we filled bathtubs with water, I ordered extra formula (how this helps since I need to buy it on line and I waited until the weekend of the hurricane is beyond me???!!!) and I bought the baby some nail clippers….. a baby MUST be well manicured for a hurricane  DUH!  Hubby battened down the hatches and filled all our gas tanks.  We were ready.

 

And then hubby realized we were missing something incredibly important if we were to get stuck in our house for days………….

Of course… the ever important cookies stash!

 

So I made one more trip to the grocery store and as everyone around me purchased essential items…. I purchased some additional essential items:  Donuts, cookies & diet pepsi.   Now, we were READY!

 

And so, we settled into our home and listened to the wind howl around us.  And then once the power went out, we were luckily a destination for friends and family for days since we had power (via the generator) and many of them did not.  And, I do have to say…. Having cookies seemed to make everyone feel just a little bit better!

 

I know normally my posts are chock full of underlying humor and I don’t want to disrespect anyone who was horribly impacted by this storm.  It was (and continues to be) devastating to so many.  The area where we grew up is not (and will never) be the same.  It’s heart wrenching to see so much destruction and so many lives changed forever.  My heart goes out to anyone who was either directly or indirectly impacted by this storm.  Together we will rebuild and reclaim the Jersey coastline.

 

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