STUFF

Up until about a half-hour ago, I could have said this:
"I haven't had a drink or a poo since Wednesday!"

Whew, this no carb thing is rough on the bowel system!

So, hubby and I were ON.THE.WAGON. ALL Weekend Long! (Well, he golfed on Saturday and had one-and-a-half beers... BTW, how does one manage to only drink half a beer, I'd like to know?)

As of this a.m., there has been absolutely no weight loss, unless you count the half-pound I gained the second day of the diet, but then that one disappeared. I have denounced all potatoes, all pasta, all sugar, all bread (except for a quarter of a piece I had to eat yesterday slathered with PB lest I go into a carb-free-induced-headache-coma).

The no-drinking part is really not that hard. Really. Especially since vacation where we drowned ourselves in my homemade margaritas and broke the blender, but I already told you that. On to new and exciting things. (Don't worry, I made a list. Ha).

Am reading the novel, BreakupBabe, which is really, really good, and LOL funny. I think Rebecca Agiewich is the pioneer of Love Blogging and it's such a fun book where she blends reality and fiction in a way where you wonder, "Hmmm, did this really happen or did she invent this scene?!" Also, she sure as hell got even with the bastard who dumped her, and boy, the way she tells it, her nickname of him, Loser, is really fitting. I don't even know how she ended up with someone like that because she seems so vivacious and outgoing, and he just sounds like a weenie-computer-geek who didn't know a good thing when he had it. So, major shout-out to BreakupBabe who definitely got the last laugh in that relationship, and hopefully, it's on its way to the best-seller list!

Now, I'm sure everyone's wondering when ManicMom, the novel will be in stores....

Yup. Keep on waiting. No plans for that blockbuster. Hahah.

On to some kid stuff, because Manic Mom's blog should contain some kid stuff, right? Poor Tukey is sick with 102.2 under-the-arm temp, so that means it's really 103.2. He actually DOESN'T WANT ME. I went to check on him and he's all like, "Get out of here!" Like I gave him the damned fever or some shit. Come on. I'm his mother. It's all I want to do is cuddle him and make sure he's comfy and feed him ice pops and put a cold cloth onto his burning little head, but does he want me?

Nah. Daddy is who he wants tonight... YIPEEEEEEEEEEE!

And Ajers had his big all-star game today where they announce the players and the boys are in a real dugout and it's O.F.F.I.C.I.A.L.

Well, we were playing the team of the kid who's parents' we bought our house from. Say that fast like, ah hell, say it once. And then try to figure out what the heck I mean. Anyway, I went to the opposing side to chat up the previous owner of my home, who we are on friendly terms with (OK, truth be told, we've gotten drunk with them quite a few times, but who doesn't get drunk with Manic and her husband when a social event calls?)...

So, I'm talking to T, and we're semi-watching the game, you know, how moms watch...

"So, did you hear about J's breast implant... Whooo Hoooo! Way to hit the ball Joey... anyway, there was a problem and ... Nice grounder kiddo! Keep at it!.... her husband thought they were too small so he told her.... You kiddin' me ump! He was safe as the day is long....."

Anyway, that wasn't a real conversation, but isn't that how moms watch the kids play ball? Intermittedly? (Spelled right or wrong, don't know, don't care, I'm on a roll here telling you about... about nothing, so if it's boring, just stop reading...)

Finally, point of the story is, Ajers was up to bat and I was kind of paying attention and he got to first and I cheered, and then I heard someone from the stands (keep in mind, I'm sitting with the opposing team at this point)... this lady goes...

"I'd like to see some I.D. for that kid."

My ears PERK up, a mother bear in the cavern, protecting her young cub... I just KNEW she was talking about MY.PRECIOUS.BOY...because AJers is the biggest kid out there, and I'm not saying it in a braggy way, because he's had some really hard times with the fact that he's way taller than everyone else, and he just wants to be littler sometimes, so I have an awareness that he's very self-concious of this.

So, I say...

"You talking about that big kid?"

She: "Yeah, wonder what his birth certificate really says."

Me: "October 26, 1997... He's MINE!"

Don't mess wit da mamma bear, my brutha.

Anyway, we went to a benefit for a friend of a friend last night who is SURVIVING breast cancer. After she got diagnosed, her mom went in, and gee, let's give the mom breast cancer too, so mom gets diagnosed with the same breast cancer. Like that's fair (I know, I know, not much in life is fair), but still... it was an amazing event with tons of support from family and friends and their loved ones and it was not sad, it was inspiring and amazing. This girl looks at her breast cancer like it's just something she's got to kick the hell out of and get on with her life. And man, that's the freaking way to do it!

My mammogram is tomorrow ten a.m. I hope all of you who THOUGHT about it, even for a nannosecond, called your insurance plan, your doctor, your gyne, and made that appointment. It is so curable as long as you stay on top of it.

Besides, staying on top of some things can be pretty fun!

I'm out! Peace be with you all!

PS--Tukey yakked in the toilet, fever magically disappeared and now he wants an ice cream sandwich. He is a miracle boy.