Monday, March 30, 2009

The Mr.

Today marks the last of the Fish birthdays, for a while at least.
32 years ago my dear mother-in-law welcomed her 7th (and last)
into the glad she didn't stop at 6.

Thanks Johnny for making me laugh everyday, being a great dad,
and loving me in spite of my weaknesses. I love you.

P.S. Poor guy will be sleeping through most of his birthday, having worked an extra shift the night before. Luckily, he gets to wake up, watch the kids while I do my usual last minute visiting teaching, and then go to an extended family get-together with his in-laws. I don't know how I nabbed such a good one.

Friday, March 27, 2009

A Dog-Gone Good Bedtime Story

Once upon a time there was a young girl who longed to be a mother. She found her prince charming and knew that little bundle of joy would arrive soon after. Days turned to weeks and weeks to months. Almost 2 years passed and nothing.

This young girl yearned for someone to take care of and nurture. So she adjusted her dream of two cute pudgy legs and traded them for four hairy ones. He was christened Doom, and the girl and her prince loved that pup with all their hearts.

As fate would have it, less than a year later the much anticipated bambino from the young girl's dreams made his grand entrance into the world. And then his brother, about 18 months later.

Needless to say, that young girl was up to her ears in mothering and the fury child became neglected and too much to handle.

So, a good home was found, and Doom (now called "Jerry") and a nice little old man are the best of friends. And the rest is history. The End.

Sometimes when I'm missing that mangy mutt, I try to remember all the poop and pee and barking and jumping...oh wait, that's still my life.

And, people still try to get rid of their vegetables by giving them to the thing under the table.

P.S. At least this one's wearing a diaper.

Wednesday, March 25, 2009

i love seventy-five

.....degrees, that is.

Think I can remember this beautiful day come July?

I doubt it.
The heat makes me delirious.

P.S. I do love my other children too.

Monday, March 23, 2009

Furthering My Quest for Mother of the Year

Sorry it's been a few days since I've updated the ol' blog. I've just been too wiped out from the birthday party we threw for Carter on Friday. We sent out invitations to 20 of his closest 1-year-old friends and had the coolest party ever; complete with circus clowns, pony rides, and bounce houses.

Actually, none of that is true.

True story: I'm a horrible mom (and liar) and figure why put forth all that effort and money for something the kid's never going to remember and frankly, could care less about.

We did sing to Carter and do the whole cake and presents thing at my family's monthly get-together a few weeks back-- lest you feel too sorry for the little guy. I even had my camera ready for the obligatory messy cake bit, but was greatly disappointed.
I think that's a sign he's a little too experienced in the cake-eating department. But never fear, we had two caped crusaders watching over us that night.

And luckily, my sister Lola gave the perfect 1-year-old present.

Maybe that'll be enough to make up for his parent's lack of birthday recognition. I hope so, because I'm sure there won't be a lack of material for his shrink to work with in another 18 years.

P.S. Gotta give a little shout out for my man.

Nuff said.

Friday, March 20, 2009

Sbarro's: My Favorite New York Pizza Place

So when I said "unplanned" before, I meant my pregnancy with Ian...not his actual birthday celebration. 'Cause sometimes unplanned things aren't so good...birthday party speaking, that is.

Like waking that morning to find a mess in the birthday boy's pants. And I'm not talking a wet mess here, folks. It's his party, and I guess he did what he wanted to.

Then for lunch, my newly 4-year-old boy (and now a clean one, thank you very much) wanted to go to Chuck E. Cheese. So doggone it, we went to Chuck E. Cheese for lunch. Only, so did the rest of the of the many perks of a Spring Break birthday.

After waiting in line forever and about 3 heart attacks from losing my children in the masses later, oh and searching for a table I had to bus and clean myself, we took our party elsewhere: to the birthday boy's 2nd choice, the mall.

Yes, we got out our Spiderman plates, ate cake and ice cream, sang happy birthday-- complete with candles, and opened presents; all from the food court at the mall. The best birthday party ever! We're starting our own party-planning business, if you're interested.

Good thing 4-year-olds are easy to please.

P.S. And, good thing we started that party-planning business, 'cause today's another big day at the Fish household. Someone's celebrating his very 1st year o' life.

Wednesday, March 18, 2009

Sometimes the Best Things are Unplanned.

Enjoy a little "This is Your Life"-- Ian style.

Please excuse us today. We will be doing all things 4-year-old, hoping to make a middle child not feel so middle. It's hard to believe it was only 4 years ago when one minute I was playing cards and the next, this little guy was born (thank you, epidural).

P.S. I love this kid. A lot.

Tuesday, March 17, 2009

"I'm a Big Woman, I Need Big Hair"

The other day we woke up to this:

Obviously we sent this to the Ford Modeling Agency. He's already booked for some modeling shoots-- they say he's a natural. I thought so too, but figured I'm probably a little biased. Maybe Ian will get some jobs lined up too.

And speaking of hair...

Please don't tell CPS

After (Yes, that green on his face is ice cream. We were desperate, okay? He could be Irish, you never know.)

P.S. This counts as wearing green, right? Anyone who pinches me today's got another thing comin'.

Friday, March 13, 2009

Proud to be an American

Please note that the views and opinions expressed are solely of the individual and do not necessarily represent the views or opinions of [anyone else but me], its parent or any of its affiliates or employees.

I am not political, never have been and I certainly don't claim any superior intellect in any political arena whatsoever. My voting record is almost entirely motivated by morals and how well the candidate's in question most resemble my own. And fortunately, I started this blog after the latest election so I figured I was off scot-free.

until yesterday...

I was elliptical-ing it up at the gym, minding my own business, checking out Hollywood's business via People magazine when I happened upon a photo that has had me outraged ever since.

Now, I have many qualms with this picture. For starters, it just seems wrong that this was in People magazine, sharing space with the likes of Britney Spears and Rhianna (don't even get me started with that one-- apparently there was "No One to Tell" her about the classic after school special with Candice Cameron and Fred Savage).

I had to do a double take when I first saw this picture. I completely expected some sort of caption chastising the president...oh yeah, then I woke up. But seriously, I figured I must have missed the news that day. So I came home and did a little research.

Apparently there was a little controversy: one talk radio caller insisted that Mr. Obama "...should not publicly have fun during a time of so much pain." I think that's quite ridiculous, actually. What I do not find ridiculous is the whole little boy and intoxicated president thing. But, most sites I looked at not only condoned this, but celebrated it. I think the actual caption touted Obama as being "one of the guys." Lovely.

I guess I'm some sort of alien here. That's okay, I've come to feel at home in my alien skin. It seems conservatism is about the worst offense these days.


Oh man, I feel better.

P.S. I guess I shouldn't have been surprised yesterday. Clearly I forgot about this proud moment. I always dreamed of happy hour, throwing back a couple with the leader of the free world. If not me, maybe my 5-year-old son.

Thursday, March 12, 2009

Sha la la la la la la la la la la te da

When a baby is born, why do we feel the need to play some sort of genealogical who's who? The umbilical cord isn't even cut and we're trying to guess who the baby looks like. "Oh, she has Uncle Bob's nose" or "Look at those toes. Those are Cousin Irma's for sure." I mean, can't the kid have his own appendages? Newborns usually just look like newborns to me. And last time I checked, Bob and Irma weren't that cute.

Let's be honest, though: no one wants an ugly kid, and I'm no exception. You've got nearly 40 weeks to wait and wonder about the looks of your little bundle of joy. What will those nose and toes come out looking like?

Unfortunately for my children, they inherited some of my best traits-- like the Bert eyebrow. Is Ashton too young for me to start tweezing? Maybe I should wait, uni-brows could come back in style. If tapered, I mean skinny, jeans can do it...anything's possible (people, don't you remember the "mom" jean-- same thing, only jazzed up a little...they are still unflattering no matter how many stars wear them). The more I think about it, the one eyebrow thing was probably only cool on Sesame Street to my 4-year-old self.

But, I had high hopes that my children would get their dad's baby blues. I took biology. I know it's possible. But I also get the rules of baseball-- the whole 3 strikes thing. I struck out with the blonde hair too. Darn you dominant traits!

Saturday revealed a surprising addition to my gene-passing list (what, you don't have yours on the fridge?): dental health. Who knew? Travel back in time with me to 1985. Do you see me? I'm the one with the single eyebrow framing those brown eyes (thank you, Van Morrison-- you always made me feel a little better about my lot in life). I think I was about 5 when I happened upon that fateful encounter with a Bit-O-Honey. Those two front teeth never had a chance. Now, fast forward to last Saturday. Like any good mom, I tell my children to never use their teeth for anything besides chewing food. And like any good boy, my son listens to every word I say. Until those Lego pieces needed pulling apart, that is.

P.S. More dental health here, folks. We lovingly refer to this one as Chip.

Tuesday, March 10, 2009

I Love a Baby with Nothin' but a Diaper On

Don't let this last one fool you. He looks like he's crawling.
Nope, just scootin' and he'll be a year in less than 2 weeks!
And I know, it's a miracle-- he doesn't have food all over his face.

P.S. You'd get whatever you wanted too, if you looked like that.

Saturday, March 7, 2009

A Post PostScript

Apparently there's been some confusion as to the origin of the mess on my baby's face, hands, feet, etc. from the P.S. on my previous post.

Please allow me to clarify. No, the mess did not originate from a mess in his pants (And, not from any neglect on the part of his grandparents. They left him very clean...except for the small bruise on his cheek).

I'm sorry Ms. Streep, there's a new cat in town and he ain't wearin' Prada. He's disguised as cute little girls outside your local grocery store. And he's swapped high-class Italian fashion for badges and green uniforms.

I should not have fed my child the forbidden fruit, I know. But if being bad tastes this good, then I'm stocking up on sunscreen 'cause I'm headed for that mint-ily thin place of fire and brimstone.

P.P.P.S. Clearly I enjoy taking pictures of my grimy baby. He and I both think it's pretty hilarious. And once again, not from his diaper.

Friday, March 6, 2009

You Might Want to Permanecer Sentados, Por Favor While You Read This Awesome Post

So I lied. No post yesterday. I'm sure you all were dying to get an update on our vay-cay. I know, because my blog was temporarily down due to all the traffic. Patience people, patience. When I made that promise, I didn't take into account the whole jet-lag situation. Man, that time difference really threw me for a loop-- I had to spend all day yesterday just recovering. My suitcase still isn't even unpacked. I figure if I unpack, it means I have to get back to reality. Because then: a) the fiesta is over and b) I have to wash all those clothes. Both total downers.

But, I do have to make another confession. Fib numero dos. I said I'd have some great pictures from Disneyland. Unfortunately, Disneyland was closed. Oh no, I can't stop. Those lies keep coming. It must be some sort of post-Disneyland (yes, we did go) unconscious Pinocchio-type syndrome. I'll have to WebMD that when I'm done with this. But, back to my 2nd lie (the one about taking pictures at Disneyland..gotta be quick, I'm from Eerie, PA). This time, I forgot to take into account the whole picture taking situation that happens when only two people vacation together. It's either take that really awkward close-up of yourselves that's oh so flattering or the really, really awkward searching and begging someone else to take a picture for you.

And since a picture speaks a thousand words, I'll conclude my vacation post. What? You can't tell what's goin' on in any of these pictures? Oh yeah. I guess asking someone to take a picture for us would have been a better choice. In case you care: the top left is at the Queen Mary in Long Beach; the top right is on It's a Small World at Disneyland; the bottom left is on the airplane going to LA; and the bottom right is on the airplane going to Phoenix.

So since the pictures didn't do it, I guess I'll "sum" up our trip with a few "mathematical equations" (I am hilarious) I learned:
* junk food for three days = one unhappy body
I could literally feel the extra 10 pounds I gained jiggle as I jogged around the track today. I think those Disney people put something in them churros. Must've been MSG. Or maybe it was harder to run today because my body was acclimated to the elevation at sea level. Yeah, that's it-- our high altitude.

*LA traffic + the liability of a rental car = 1 nervous Sherry
Go ahead and pay the $11/day extra for the GPS. There's a lot of U-turns and nail biting otherwise.

* Grandma + Grandpa = saints in my book
The kids didn't even miss us and only one unaccounted bruise was found. Plus, since my mom is a saint, her prayers were the form of an African safari for 18 months. It's off to Uganda for the folks the first of June. bhaahh...(that's me crying)

* Front row seating + Splash Mountain = 1 drenched Jonathan
Yes, we were too cheap to buy the picture. So we took a picture of the picture. We had to save our money for more churros.

* last minute plans + the Queen Mary = pretty cool time
I'm not much of a museum girl, but since Jonathan appeased me with Disneyland, I figured I couldn't complain. Luckily, there was enough pop culture (albeit 1940's style) for me to find it interesting enough.

*Space Mountain = awesomeness
Okay, I didn't really learn that this time around, I was just happily reminded. I guess it should be, what with it being a thrilling high speed turbulent roller coaster type ride in the dark and all.

Don't we look like we had a blast? I guess a picture can speak at least 8 words. Neato.

P.S. Luckily this is what I had to come home to.

Monday, March 2, 2009

Thank You, Uncle Sam

I hate Baskin Robbins. Well, I don't actually hate the place. I hate their 31 flavors. Well, I don't actually hate their flavors. I hate this post. I mean, I hate that there's 31 of them. That's about 25 too many, in my opinion. I find a flavor I like and stick with it. At a restaurant my parents just ask what form of chicken I'll be having. At home breakfast is always cold cereal (I'd love it every meal). But it's not just food. For instance, Ian knows I will pinch his little bottom if he walks up the stairs in front of me. "Mom don't get my bum." Killjoy. I figure my children need stability in this crazy world and I'd mess with Ian's psyche if I didn't pat that cute (oh sorry, handsome) bum of his (calling him cute is even worse than getting his backside). I hate change. I'm kinda boring that way. But that's how I roll. Who needs spontaneity? Predictability is so unique these days, wouldn't you say?

So when the stars aligned (i.e. tax return, spring break, no work, and most importantly-- willing child-care) for a get-a-way with the Mr., my OCD kicked into high gear. There was no question where we would go (my man loves me, okay?). I can't help it. I love the place. It really is the happiest place on earth.

Mr. Fish and I are leavin' on a jet plane this afternoon. Unfortunately, I do know when we'll be back again.

See ya Thursday with some great pics from

P.S. Say a prayer for my parents. It's their last hurrah before the mission. 18 months is a long time with no grandkids. I'm sure these next few days with the grandkids will seem like longer!

Sunday, March 1, 2009

(i) (heart) (parentheses)

It was a zoo at the Fish house this weekend. We had a fun visit from Jonathan's brother and his family. 9 species of the male variety (7 little and 2 not so little) in one little house. It's a good thing Cami and I are so secure in our femininity. All that testosterone almost made me involuntarily burp the abc's. Burping is so funny.

Let's see, there was the constant noise of sound effects coming out of little mouths (why do boys do that?)-- you name it we heard it: machine guns, bombs exploding, car brakes and any other sound that can be made with the flicking of a tongue. Oh the talent. There was the constant quarrel over who was stuck with Jessie (ew! not a girl!) and who got to be Buzz or Woody. And the constant plain ol' noise. BOYS ARE LOUD (everyone knows all caps is yelling in the cyber-world). Now you know how I feel.

On Saturday we ventured out to experience a true zoo (our house wasn't enough) at the wonderful Phoenix Zoo.

Here is how I spent the majority of my $16 admission ticket.
Please ignore the woman in the black shirt. The other black shirt. No, I do not wear short shorts. Cue 80's Nair commercial.

We consider the trip a success, however, as only one child went missing (has since been found) and only a few knees were scraped (have since been band-aid-ed). I'm not a big fan of the zoo, but I find the orangutan exhibit fascinating.

I could sit for hours (okay maybe not hours, this is the zoo after all) just watching them. I guess since they are the most like humans, it triggers my people-watching addiction. And that baby monkey is so cute!

We were sad, however, to see our cousins leave last night and get back to normal life. If you know me at all, you know that I'm always up for a party. Every day should be a party, except for today, of course-- it is the day of rest. So I'm off to get a bunch of things done (very slowly so as not to raise my heart rate past the "restful" state) so tomorrow can be another party...more on that later!

P.S. When I googled Toy Story 2 to see how to spell Jessie (it's J-e-s-s-i-e, in case you were wondering) Toy Story 3 was one of my options. Apparently it's set to release in 2010 (very exciting for our household). I turned to Wikipedia for a synopsis which said, "The film has Woody, Buzz and the rest of their toy-box friends being dropped off at a day-care center after their owner, Andy, leaves for college." And as Michael Scott says, "Wikipedia is the best thing ever. Anyone in the world, can write anything they want about any subject. So you know you are getting the best possible information." So true, Michael. So true.