Deliciously Annoying

When I lost my job last year, many of my friends were convinced I would become addicted to soap operas, game shows, and/or Oprah. One year out and I haven't caved! (Although I will admit I DVR Ellen every day. I dig her.)

However, I think I may have a problem with Food Network. First I would tune in if nothing else was on...now I find myself checking the food channel before all others. I've always been able to cook but watching these shows has greatly elevated my cooking skills and bolstered my culinary confidence - much to the chagrin of The Kid, who would live solely on Chicken McNuggets and french fries if I allowed it.

One might think then that this was a healthy addiction. How can it be bad when it's inspiring me to create delicious delectables??? (Except for the time I attempted egg foo young and learned Chinese food should ONLY be cooked by Chinese people.) It's bad because every single chef pisses me off somehow. The Kid won't allow me to watch Food Network when he is home because I yell at the television. Whether it's the way the chef talks, cooks, looks, or adds chocolate to her chicken, I get all worked up and vocal. Below are a few chefs who REALLY get my broth boiling:

Rachel Ray: Her "30 Minute Meals" is thirty minutes too long with her voice. Her recipes are decent - doesn't make anything too funky - but her voice....HER VOICE. Nasally and God awful. I usually start mimicking her with, "Really Rachel? You add e-v-o-o???" That's another peeve of mine: e-v-o-o. Cute but she says it every 10 seconds. (Oh, that's extra virgin olive oil for those of you with jobs during the day.)

Giada De Laurentiis: Okay, I'll admit it. I stare at her boobs. How can you not??? They're perfect and perky and ALWAYS on display! Plus she's hot...until she says an Italian-based word, like parmesan. She can't say parmesan. She has to evoke her Italian roots and say, "Add a little parmigiano reggiano." Either say everything with the accent or don't say anything. You're just showing off now. Actually, I can't watch her anymore because my cousin recently alerted me to the size of her head. It's huge!!! She's like a watermelon on a toothpick! I never noticed this anomaly, I think because I was mostly staring at her boobs the whole time. But WOW HER HEAD IS HUGE.

Paula Deen: Don't even get me started on Paula Deen.

Down Home with the Neelys: If this isn't the HORNIEST couple of cooks in the kitchen then Giada has tiny boobies! Gina's always dancing around and Pat's always making not-so-subtle comments about the sugar he got the night before...WOOT! Their food is southern-based and pretty damn finger-licking good. (So is Gina, according to Pat.)

Emeril: I can't even talk about Emeril, or I will get all worked up and start throwing things. Everything about him makes my skin crawl. Blech. I don't have one redeeming quality for him. Even his audience pisses me off.

I'd have to say my fave is "Cooking For Real with Sunny Anderson". I'd never heard of her before my recent food obsession but I like her. Her recipes are normal (i.e., no funky meat or weird dried mushrooms) and she has a nice personality. I would want to be friends with her in real life. Although there is one thing that distracts me about her....HER GIANT GHETTO BOOTY. But that's why I like her. She hasn't caved in to the pressure she must be getting from anorexic producers to lose weight. She has a big, beautiful booty and is proud of it. You go wich yo bad self, girlfriend!

I guess I could have worse addictions. In fact, I do have worse addictions but that's a WHOLE NOTHER blog post. At least we're eating well, and I've found a tasty hobby as well as an outlet for some of my energy.

And by outlet for some of my energy, I mean someone else to scream and throw things at other than my family.

Thinking that.....

My Winter Olympics experience is never complete until I find myself awake in the wee hours of the morning watching curling as there is nothing else on television.

Time check: 2:57 a.m.

Great Britain is in the lead.

Moving

We need to move. I WANT to move. The only thing stopping me? The PILE OF SHIT THAT IS MY SON'S LEGO COLLECTION. Jesus, Mary and Joseph...I don't wanna pack it. I'd rather sit here and rot in my little house than deal with the trillions of little plastic pieces all stuck together just so. But we must go.

Heaven help me.

Cutest Baybay in the Whole World!

My ovaries are crying, "We want another baby!" while my brain is screaming, "Are you bitches crazy??? Have you ANY idea what I've been through the last nine years?!?!?!?"

Going Green

Setting: The Kid was taking a bath.

Me: "Hey, don't let your water out when you're done. I want to hop in and take a quick bath."

The Kid: "Why aren't you going to run your own bath?"

Me: (Thinking of the water bill and probable lack of hot water left in the tank) "Cause I don't want to waste water."

The Kid: "Going green???"

Me: "Uh...yep! Going green!"

The Kid: "What about my pee?"

Me: "........let your water out."

The Kid: "But you said we were going green!"

Me: "I'm not THAT green!"

Valentine's Day, Schmalentine's Day

I think Valentine's Day was invented by some poor husband who forgot his wedding anniversary. He woke the next morning and found his wife standing over him with a meat cleaver. He jumped out of bed and quickly said, "But honey! I didn't forget our anniversary! I was waiting until today to surprise you because today is...Valentine's Day! Yeah! Valentine's Day. You can't even begin to imagine all the gifts and activities I have planned for us! Starting after I get back from running a few errands..."

Smart man. I think his last name was Hallmark.

My first Valentine's Day present was from my high school boyfriend. He gave me a little perfume bottle (it was black and white, like an exclamation point. Maybe it was called Exclamation? I prolly just dated myself.) I felt so loved! He thought of me and gave me a GIFT!!! I LOVED VALENTINE'S DAY!!!!

Little did I know that would be my ONLY Valentine's Day gift. Ever. For some reason, I never had a boyfriend around V-Day. Birthday, yes; Christmas, yes....the most romantical day of the year? Nope.

The closest I came was a guy I had been seeing for a few months. We fell pretty hard for each other - he had already told me he loved me (and yes, HE told me first!) As Valentine's Day neared, I thought, "Maybe this is the year - the year I finally get a gift!" We had been having little spats for a few weeks but we were still technically together. The Big Red day finally arrived. We had an argument the night before and I wanted nothing more than to bitchslap him but I WANTED TO FINALLY EXPERIENCE VALENTINE'S DAY WITH A DATE. He arrived at my house, I sat in his car and he handed me a card. "Here you go. Happy Valentine's Day!" I never opened it. On the front of the card he had written my name: Reagan. Really? REALLY?? REAGAN????

YOU SUPPOSEDLY LOVE ME SO MUCH AND YOU CAN'T EVEN SPELL MY NAME RIGHT?????? I cracked. I bolted from the car, ran inside and threw the card away. (Quick side note, this was pre-child so I was young and slightly immature. I would never do something like that today. I would have been pleasant and let him buy me dinner before never answering his phone calls again.)

It's okay though. I get cute little Valentine's Day cards from The Kid and an occasional little bear or something else that melts my heart. For a little shit, he can be so sweet!

If you have someone special in your life, don't wait until February to show them how much you love and appreciate them. Cherish the love they give you and forgive them for the little things they do that drive you insane. Like spelling your name wrong.

And don't forget, men - there's something called "Sweetest Day" in October. I'd really like to meet the bastard who invented that one because SHOCKER!!!! I'm always single then too!

Be Happy You're Not Darrell

The Kid: "Why did you have to give me such a common name like Zane? Why couldn't you have given me a cool name....like REX????"

CAUSE I DIDN'T WANT YOU TO GROW UP TO BE A PORN STAR.

Guess Where I Ate Yesterday?

I'm Convinced The Kid Was JFK in a Past Life

My son didn't start talking until around age 3, long after most kids his age (though when he did finally decide to converse with me, he spoke in full sentences.) By the age of four, he was reading and speaking complete sentences, albeit with a small problem of pronouncing his "r" like "w" - typical for a child around two or three. My theory was that since he started talking later than most, my son was behind the timeline of when "normal" kids work through speech issues. I figured he'd work through it eventually.

When he started school, his teacher wasn't concerned with his speech. She said she'd seen it many times and, just as I thought, he would work through it with time. It became a bit of a joke sometimes - he would say, "Mommy, how do spell woad?" I'd be like, "What's a woad?" "A woad!" he'd exclaim. "Dude, I don't know what a woad is!" Exasperated, he would explain, "You know, the thing cars dwive on?" Ah! ROAD! Gotcha.

Fast forward a few years. The Kid still has the speech issue. One day, Aunt Bat-Sh*t-Crazy said, "Zane, you have a speech impediment!" I cringed at those words. Not MY perfect baby! He looked at me, questioning what she said, knowing what those words meant, and I just blurted out, "No he doesn't. He has an accent!" Not really sure where that came from...somewhere deep inside of my self-preservation mechanism, I guess. But we rolled with it. If anyone made a comment about The Kid's speech, he would proudly proclaim, "It's my accent!"

In third grade, Zane made it to the school spelling bee. He outspelled most of his classmates, eventually succombing to a fifth grader. The next day I received the call I had been dreading for 8 years: it was the school's speech therapist. "I heard Zane in the spelling bee yesterday, and I noticed he has a little issue with his r. Would you be willing to let me work with him on that?" Good thing she didn't utter the words "speech impediment" or I would have come down to her office and shoved my phone up her....nose. Although I'd become accustomed to The Kid's cute little "accent" - as well as had a little fun at his expense - I knew it was time to bite the bullet and get him help.

The Kid went to speech therapy every week so I expected him to lose his accent by the end of the school year...but he celebrated his last day of school by shouting, "Summwer's hewre!" Sometimes kids will say, "Zane, you talk cool! Where did you get your accent?" To which he responds, "I don't know. I was bworne with it." Few adults would mention anything (they're prolly afraid to say anything in our politically correct world) until I started working with a woman from Connecticut. The first time she heard Zane speak, she said, "That kid sounds like he's from the East Coast!" Really???? The more I thought about it, the more I agreed. It was hilarious! Whenever someone would remark on his speech, my friend would say, "Yes, Zane and I ah fwom Connecticut. We don't know why his mothah doesn't have an accent."

Not sure what happened to the school therapist this year but I'm not rocking the boat. I love his little accent - and seeing people's expressions when I tell them we're from Boston, complete with my Midwest accent. I dropped The Kid off at drum lessons the other night, and his teacher came out and asked, "Hey, where does Zane get his accent? Are you guys from Boston?" BUAHAHAHAHHA! I laughed so hard and said no, he was born and raised in Central Illinois but we get that all the time.

The clip below is The Kid saying the iconic East Coast phrase, "I parked my car in Harvard Yard."

Just Wait Until You're Married.....

The Kid: "Mommy, can I cuddle on the couch with you and watch TV?"

Me: "Sure babe. Here, crawl under my blanket."

The Kid: "K. So watcha watchin...GEEZ MOM. THE LEAST YOU COULD DO IS SHAVE YOUR LEGS!"

Me: "Pssht. It's winter and I'm not dating anyone. Get used to it."

My Favorite Line.....

Maury: *insert name here*...you are NOT the father!!!!!