I have this old friend. I've known her for about 15 years. When I was single we used to see each other once every other week or so. When J and I got married he took to her immediately and we saw her even more often. More like once a week. We would whoop it up and have a grand old time and we still do. The kids....they think of her as a long lost aunt. They can't get enough of her. She is loud and boisterous and easy going. She let's them do whatever they want when we are at her house. Heaven for a one and three year old, right? They can scream and dance and throw food on the floor and she doesn't give a hoot.

But I am starting to have this love/hate relationship with her. She's done me wrong twice now and I know that's not a lot but they were serious wrongs. The first time what she did was pretty bad. It took me over a week to get over it but after a few months I gave her a second chance. But you know the saying, fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me. I have to apply that here.

My friend, her name is Superior Grill. and I loved her, golly, how I loved her. The cheese, the chips, ohhhhhh, the Margaritas. She makes a mean one and like I said, not a more kid friendlier place in the universe.

The first time I got sick was during that big Salmonella outbreak. I threw up for 2 days straight and couldn't eat for another week. I kid you not. It was bad and it wasn't the flu. Superior Grill was what I had eaten the day before and really nothing else. We didn't go back for a month or two but after I had fully recovered I just couldn't stay away.

and everything was fine until last night. I woke up about 7 hours after we ate at SG. I prayed to die. at 2am, 2 hours after I said my first prayer J realized that something was wrong. I think all the moaning and the cold rag gave me away. He said it would pass. and it never did. Uggghhh. The misery. Luckily I never got sick, just stomach pains and nausea that is still lingering. I am sad that I feel so bad on a Monday morning. and I feel even worse that J stayed home from work so that I could sleep in a bit. but what I am most sad about is the loss of Superior Grill. Can I really go back? I think I would be just looking for trouble. I don't know. I hate to end my love affair but I don't think I can go through another heartbreak. I have got to end this unhealthy relationship while I am strong. Maybe we can be friends, just have a margarita and chips while everyone else indulges. But that never works does it. The friend thing.

Pman loves to be tickled. I can almost always try to calm him down from his insanity if I can get him to sit on my lap and tickle his legs, arms or head. He is in heaven and will sit staring into oblivion until I stop at which point he will wiggle away or grab my arm to start tickling again.

I have always loved to be rubbed on. and my mom too. We still fight about who is going to tickle or be tickled first because it sucks to be the last tickler. You want to be the last tickled so you can truly enjoy it.

Before we had kids, J would rub my legs, begrudgingly. I would have to beg him and I remember one time saying that I couldn't wait to have kids so they could rub my legs. J was horrified. He couldn't believe that I would consider using my kids like that. The other day I was sitting on the floor with my legs in front of me and Pman toddled up, sat down and started tickling my legs. and I didn't even have to ask.

Jazz Fest is in the air

It's Jazz Fest time around here. People are gearing up for it. Getting there fold up chairs out of the garage, digging through their koozies for the "How ya gonna clap" one (you know, the one that has a strap that you can hang around your neck leaving your hands free.), starving themselves to make room for the crawfish streudel and bread and monica and anything else with crawfish in it, clipping out the schedule to make their master plan and calling Acura to beg them for the pass that they gave them the first year they bought their car but that they haven't got since (did this happen to you too?), building their party poles so that their friends will know how to find them in the mass chaos that is the fest. And this is to only name a few prep steps.

Well, It's all a lot of pressure. It keeps a true jazz fester busy that's for sure. But NOT FOR ME!!! and I am lovin' it. I think I have been asked at least 5 times today whether or not we were going to Jazz Fest. Nope. A simple,easy and stress free answer. and I am lovin' it. I used to be an all day every day Jazz Fest kind of person. Get there when the gates open and left when the last stage closed. I didn't care that my feet got grimy with a mix of dirt and sunscreen, that it was as hot as bejeezus, that I smelled bad and went to the bathroom in a port o let that smelled worse, not to mention that on several occasions entered after a couple who had just done it in the hot stank of it all. Ugh. I loved it, truly loved it. Sometimes I had backstage passes, sometimes I didn't but it just didn't matter. I loved it.

and now, you know what I love?
I love that I do not care in the least bit about Jazz Fest. I don't care who is playing. I find in my old age that I enjoy listening to music on a CD rather than in real life. unless it's in an atmosphere where I a. can sit b. can be in a non-smoking environment and c. that has good wine. Call me an old fart. Because I proudly call myself one.

But I do love this time of year. and I do love that fact that there are people who still revel in the pleasure of Jazz Fest. Who don't mind the crowds and keep the spirit of Jazz Fest alive. Because, although I am not sad that I am not even thinking of going to Jazz Fest, I would be sad if I couldn't feel The Festival in the air. So to all you Jazz Festers out there......clap for me, loud and strong!

Trip to the Beach

We've been to the beach. W and Pman's first time to visit the Gulf and they had a ball. That's why I have been so scarce around here. Not that I haven't had a million things to post-especially while at the beach-but I have a thing about posting too much information online. I know, I post a lot but I do draw a line somewhere.

Here are a few teaser pictures to keep you hanging on until tomorrow.

W building a sand castle.

Pman's feet in the sand

W after a swim at the pool.

and Pman playing life sized chess.

Oh, but I have much to tell about our trip to the beach and many many doozer photos. For ex. RaRa, JoJo and Papa playing badminton. Certainly a sight to see. Just you wait.

I know somewhere on this blog I shared my fear. The fear that I would not love the new baby (now Pman) as much as I love W. I was really really worried. I thought about it a lot and I cried a lot too. I cried about taking time away from W and from the guilt of not loving the new baby.

and now I cannot believe that I ever thought that. I mean, hanging out with Master P all day has its ups and downs but when the ups are good they are really good. and I love him for all of his quirks and craziness and mischieviousness. For instance, the other day, he rode around in the grocery cart, I am not kidding, the whole trip, like this.

Is that crazy? Maybe not for you but for me, a mom whose first child is calm and collected and cooperative and docile, it is. I was scared he was going to pop his neck out of socket. It made MY neck weak just looking at him. But it was hilarious and it really kind of sums him up in a nutshell. It describes him better than I can with words. A picture is worth a thousand words and if you look really closely you can see my favorite part about him. That big ole cleft in his chin.

The boys are downstairs rough housing so it was my chance to sneak away upstairs to let you know that I am alive. Barely. I made the same mistake twice and ate another one of those "deliciously soft" icingy cookies that show up in the grocery stores during any holiday. I am crashing from my insane sugar high. At least this time I know what is going on. Yesterday I ate one at W's Easter Egg Hunt and I thought I was going to die. I didn't know what caused that misery until later.

Anyway, Pman and I had quite a day. He loves whoopin' and hollerin' and wrestling with anyone who will join in. We were doing that this afternoon. He got so riled up that he bit me. HE BIT ME! DAMN! It hurt! He did it through a long sleeved shirt and even broke skin. It was just barely, but hard enough that I have a story to tell.

Broken refrigeraters, poo poo and shopping

You would think from the scarcity of my posts that I am so so busy. I am not necessarily so but I am still stressed anyway. We have been out of a refrigerator for a week now, with one week to go. It's crazy how much you miss it when you don't have it. Now, we are living with scarce provisions in my old college refrigerator (which is still running strong despite his age) and a small one in the back garage. But IT IS STRESSING ME OUT. It totally upsets my routine and THAT I do not like.

Amidst all of the refrigerator debacle, I have been looking for a dress to wear to a wedding. and shoes to go with it. So Pman and I have been on the go all week to mall after store after mall. BTW, he loooooves the mall. He seemed to like Lakeside better than Saks. More colors, more water fountains, more things to get into. I finally found the dress but am still on the hunt for the perfect pair of shoes. I am particular about shoes but I won't bore you with the details.

In addition, the poo poo potty training came to a head last night, or rather the bathtub. DON'T get me started because it's not a pretty or pleasant story. and I am mad. I asked J if I was too mean and he said my anger was justified. "He has to have consequences". Enough said.

On top of it all I am trying to get ready for the Crescent City Classic and I kind of let my training die. The farthest I have run in the past week is 3.5 miles so I am not even sure I can finish. Oh, I am so disappointed in myself.

So there are my reasons for not posting lately. I hope I won't have to come up with anymore anytime soon.