Man Cold - The Sequel

Just when you thought it was OK to put the Nyquil back in the medicine cabinet, it strikes. Like a thief in the night, it creeps in, leaving no human untouched.

THE MAN COLD.

I had two men in my house. Well, one man and one mini-man.

THE MAN COLD TIMES TWO.

And I also got it.

Welcome to my nightmare...FAMILY COLD.

It was a game of "who is sicker". It's a super fun game to play. Also in the same category of fun? "Who got less sleep?" (which I always win because guess who has two thumbs gets up to nurse the mini-man in the middle of the night: *this girl*)

So there were two of us, hacking and sneezing with a box of tissues tucked tightly between our pillows. Next to me was the bassinet holding our son who is also snotting and coughing. We're just one big snot factory. We're also a used tissue factory, or that's what it looks like on my husband's side of the bed. He used an entire box of tissues in one day. I'm not even mad. That's impressive.

We caught FAMILY COLD at the same time. By Friday I was feeling better. By Friday Hub was on his deathbed.

"You just don't understand. I am.............REALLY SICK."

Really sick? Like sort of how I had a cold while I was pregnant and could take approximately nothing other than vitamins and a hot bath?

"I need my rest. I mean, I'm wiped out, just exhausted."

Exhausted, yeah I can relate. Like when I carried an 8 lb 11 oz baby directly in front of me, then pushed him out, then stayed up for 48 hours with only an hour nap, then slept a few hours, then was up at 3 AM again every night for 4 weeks? That kind of exhausted?

"Baby, could you go get me [insert beverage, food or medicine here]? I just feel so lousy."

Sure, right after I feed the baby, change a blowout diaper, rock him until he stops fussing, then go to the bathroom because I've been holding it for hours, then get the dog some food because she's been tapping my arm for 20 minutes, then stick the paci back in 30 times. Right after all that.

"Sweetie, can you give me some more sympathy? Maybe rub my back?"

I....I have nothing.

I can't wait until I have two men in the house to experience MAN COLD!

*edited to add: Hub ended up going to the doctor and was, in fact, very sick. He received a steroid shot and two types of antibiotics. Well played, Man Cold....well played.*

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Nick Burns, your company's computer guy, gets a promotion

Anybody remember this skit from SNL years ago?




As the web editor at work, I live in the cusp between this guy and the marketing people, a lonely abyss in which I don't really relate to either, but speak enough of each's language that I can communicate pretty effectively.

It's actually a pretty sweet place to be. I never have to answer tech questions (that's for the IT guy) and get to throw all my great ideas out to the marketing people and let them do the legwork.

What happens, though, when Nick Burns, your company's computer guy, gets a promotion?

___________________________

Nick walks in to the meeting fashionably late. Lookin' good, feelin' good. He flips open his iPad to take notes and loads his work email -- meetings are typically wasted time anyway, so he might as well keep working. As the meeting leaders introduce themselves, Nick rolls his eyes and solves a problem. NBD. It's just what he does.

You see, Nick is a problem solver. Always has been. He set up his Dad's Commodore 64 when he was 4. Configured his first network at 8. Was discussing Dungeons and Dragons on Usenet before while you were still looking for the "on" button on your computer. Learned HTML and hand coded a website...IN HIS SLEEP.

Nick has no time for your stupid questions. You know why? He was promoted from IT rep to web manager. That's $5 k more per year and an office with a door. Plus? He got to order a nameplate and a new mousepad. These are things problem solvers have. Important people. Winners.

Nick's always been a winner. Why, just a few short years ago he spent his nights playing World of Warcraft LAN parties in the dorm room with his friends. Fraternity parties be DAMNED. Who wants to spend all night drinking warm beer and talking to pretty girls when there are adventures to be had in this online universe?

Besides, Nick had his fair share of girlfriends. Like the petite blonde from Math class who copied his notes, or the tall brunette from Statistics who always asked to be in his group. Hot chicks like that love guys like Nick (says Nick).

Playin' the field is what that's called. New girl every semester, each class filled with unlimited potential.

Besides, those fraternity guys probably amounted to nothing. Nick knew he'd own them someday -- now he's one step closer.

The first thing Nick did after his promotion was get some slick new clothes to look the part. Lots of skinny ties and black shirts. Sometimes he goes with black and gray, sometimes black on black, and sometimes, when he's feeling really wild and ready to party, he throws on his pin-striped pants. Short sleeved, button up collared shirts just scream "IT guy".  He also got a new platinum Rolex -- 18 months, same-as-cash. BOOM. That. Just. Happened.

Every morning, Nick carefully shaves and moisturizes his face. Stubble is for IT reps, but managers have to be smooth as a baby's butt. He combs expensive gel through his hair -- the good stuff that you can buy at Great Clips -- and winks in his reflection. "If my college friends could see me now," he says to no one in particular. Because he lives alone.

The meeting drones on, but he's one step ahead of the committee. No, that's now how we should do it, he tells the group, that will affect the network and wireframe of the site. We have to be more streamlined. Where's a whiteboard? I need a whiteboard so I can map this out. He adjusts the pen behind his ear, which has been rendered useless because he doesn't carry paper notes. People in the meeting ponder why he bothered to bring this pen while he blathers on for 15 minutes about editorializing the navigation structure, his thinly veiled nerd rage stuck on a low simmer.

But people have to listen to him now. Because he's a manager.

____________________________

Any resemblance to someone living or deceased is purely coincidental. *ahem*

Baby Blogworthy must not know about "turkey" yet

NOM.

Dearest Ravenous Monster Baby,

You know what tastes really good? Turkey.

 Yes sir, it's one of life's greatest pleasures. Well, not just turkey *per-say*. We've been eating a lot of turkey, me and you, on sandwiches and salads and whatnot since you made eating ham a thing of the past back in April. Since canned tuna is out (which in salad form is Mommy's favorite sandwich toppings and I WILL eat one as soon as you make your grand appearance), my options are ham (puke), turkey and roast beef.

So turkey sandwiches on the regular around these parts, but what I'm talking about is a nice, fat, salty, buttery, cooked-to-perfection hunk of meat that is only found around our house during holidays and the occasional dinner out to Bob Evans. You'll learn someday that Thanksgiving dinner is pretty much the epitome of meals.

Ok, let me put it this way. You know how sometimes Mommy doesn't eat and you get so pissed off and start just kicking the crap out of my insides, but then after you get some nourishment you calm down and fall asleep? Well I hate to break it to you, but guess what? That's pretty unacceptable behavior out here in the real world, especially for grown-people. Except on Thanksgiving.

See, this magical day isn't just about the turkey. It's about stuffing and cranberries and green-bean casserole (the only time green beans are edible in my book) and rolls and mashed potatoes and corn. AND GRAVY. Mercy, the gravy. Between Thanksgiving and Christmas, I often have an uncontrollable urge to put gravy on everything. It makes all that food I mentioned above taste even better, if that's possible.

So here's how it works: People we love sit down at a table. We are all wearing clothes, so no more nakedness for you (I'm sorry to break that cold, hard fact to you, but I promise it's worth it). We put all this yummy on our plates and then DRENCH it with gravy. Then we eat that and get another plate. Then we dig into desserts -- how could I forget desserts? -- and then the men folk (that's you and Dad) sit in front of the TV and watch a football game, but make it through one possession before falling into what we call a *turkey coma*.

The women-folk don't bother with all that extra stuff -- we just find a couch or bed and go right into our turkey coma nap. This is the best nap of the year, what with the drool and how usually it's a little cool out so it's super comfy and how the belly is super full, so much so that laying down is the only comfortable position. Oh, and how it's a legitimate reason to put on your "comfy pants" instead of pants with buttons, snaps and zippers.

Then after a couple hours in the turkey coma, you wake up and watch more football or a movie, and then raid the fridge. This is usually when Mommy makes a sandwich out of a roll, turkey scraps and stuffing and then dips it in gravy.

And because Thanksgiving is a holiday, us grown-people don't have to go to work. Last year, Mommy and Daddy were both off for a lot of days and stayed up until 3 AM every morning playing video games. We'll probably be up the same kind of hours this year if you are here with us, but for other reasons.

But see, kid, this is where your cooperation comes in to play. You are due on this magical day. However, if you are actually *born* on Thanksgiving day, Mommy and Daddy and Aunt Sis and your grandparents won't get to have this yummy meal. No Turkey. No gravy. No sandwiches dipped in gravy. No nap. Just birthin' you.

Say, you know what would be helpful? You getting here this week! What do you say, bud? Hows about, like, this weekend maybe!? And while you won't be able to actually EAT the turkey, you can definitely smell it and that's one step closer than you would be if you were still in my belly.

But you'll probably be like your Dad and be a pedantic rule follower and say, "oh, no, Mommy, the doctor said November 25, so November 25 it is! Let me just get comfy here and we can wait it out!"

And if that's the case? Fine. Be that way. But just remember that if you miss this Thanksgiving, you'll miss ' wearing a wear a newborn sized pilgrim hat or turkey costume. That'll be your cross to bear.

I love you,
Momma

Wordy & Nerdy

This baby is ruining my whole fall

The past two years, Hubby and I have imbibed in wines and delicious foods from around the world at the Epcot International Food and Wine Festival. It has all of our favorite things:

• Food
• Wine
• Disney World

This year we opted out of renewing our seasonal passes to Disney World. The renewal date was in May and the seasonal passes are blacked-out for the whole summer and we wouldn't have been able to go back until August. And I can't think of much worse at 7 months pregnant than walking around a crowded theme park in the August heat. And  the September heat. And the October heat.

Besides, how could we spend weekends at Disney World, enjoying delicious food and wine, when we've invested a small fortune in the NFL, NBA and college football packages on DirecTV? Blasphemy.

When I started seeing commercials for the Food & Wine Festival, I got a little case of the sads. We always went for the booze and stayed for the delightfully lame entertainment: Enrique Inglesias. Taylor Hicks. Air Supply.

So, no booze. No tasty, international dishes. No Jon Secada or Hanson.

But I'm having a baby, so that totally makes up for it.

But then I saw a Tweet that rocked my world:

 

Um.

Excuse me?

Boyz II Men.

Boyz. Two Capital "i"s. MEN?

ONLY my favorite R&B quartet in 1995. ONLY giving a FREE concert at Epcot.

Kaching! and Jackpot! If only......................................................

Baby Blogworthy, you have really put me in a pickle now, what with your sitting on my bladder so I have to pee every three seconds, and your big, hard head all but stopping the circulation in my legs, giving me a wicked cankle, and your little toes kicking my bronchial tubes so I sound like an asthmatic old man. And now making me MISS OUT on this concert.

I wont' soon let you forget the year you were happily baking away while I had to miss  Boyz II Men's big theme park comeback, and don't you EVEN think I won't bring it up.

Baby Blogworthy: Mom, I don't want to clean my room because I want to go play with my friends instead.

Me: Well I didn't want to miss the Boyz II Men concert in November 2010, but I did because I was giving life to you.

And so forth. I'm all about the passive aggressive behavior.

Have you ever missed an amazing event because of some other amazing event? Isn't this a sad, sad story? Did you rock out to Boyz II Men back in the day?

Hey HEY hey, word nerd!