stomach bugs, sweet boys and future wives

Big sigh.

It's been a long road. We are barely past our 3rd stomach virus of the year. Let me tell you how this last one played out. It was a cold Saturday morning and we were off to a birthday party at Kidsport. A fun time place for kids to run around with bounce houses and obstacle courses and trampolines. We got there 45 minutes late for two reasons. The first being that I thought it started at 10:30. Never mind that I had the invitation in my lap as we drove around Harahan in a lost frenzy which brings us to the other reason we were late. We were lost. Anyway, we got there and joined the party. Pman had pizza with the other kids and W played until it was cake cutting time at which point he sat down in the middle of the table and yelled, "I'm sick!". I thought he was whining because his nose was runny. Again, "AAaAaaah! I'm sick!". A bit aggravated I told J to get him up from the table. He did and the next thing I know he was hurling his breakfast all over the place, splattering chunks of blueberry muffins on the pile of purses and coats and shoes that were on the side of the room. I go to help and see a kid in slow motion running after a basketball and sliding into the vomit. I too am slipsliding around in my ballet flats on the slick puke laden floor. Fun times.

So we finally get us all home and in bed. and before you know it I am vomiting too. Blah. W was good after a day or two but I was down well into Tuesday night.

There are many good things that have come out of these awful stomach viruses. The first being that I have lost at least 10 pounds and I am doing my damndest to keep it off. The second being that I have truly seen a side of W that makes me cry when I think about it. During all of the illnesses both boys have bounced back sooner than me. Kids are resilient you know and they tend to shake it off quicker. During virus #2 he was home alone with me and had to fetch me a pot or slop bucket as I was laying on the couch and when J got home he made the kids dinner and heated himself up a can of soup, in a pot, and ate it from the pot. Typical male. W was worried that J had taken my slop bucket to eat his soup out of and came running to the den to make sure that I still had my pot and then he knelt down by the couch, took my hand, looked me in the eye and said, "Are you feeling better, Mommy?" and at that moment he looked so old and I caught a glimpse of the kind of man he was going to be. Sensitive and sweet and concerned. and I cried (remember I was 5 days into a 6 day stomach virus so I was a little punchy).

So to all you girls out there looking for a good catch....you will have to answer to W's mommy before I just hand him over to just anyone.

John Besh's Domenica

I have a new favorite restaurant. I have been trying to decide all morning if I was honestly able to give this distinction to John Besh's Domenica or not. You see, the atmosphere sucks. J said it better while were sitting there, "I feel like I am sitting in a Sheraton dining room." Exactly. But the food was undeniably delicious. The menu could be treated as a tapas menu. Although we did share an appetizer and a dessert among the four of us, we each got our own dishes. I started with a small portion of Burrata mozzarella. I can never pass it up. It's my hands down favorite cheese. and they served it appropriately, drizzled with olive oil and garlic rubbed bruschetta on the side. MMMMMMMM..........MMMMMMMMMMMM! I had another small plate for my entree and it was the right decision. The large plate would have been too much and too rich but if and when you go you HAVE to get the Stracci with the oxtail ragu and fried chicken livers. Tangy and rich. J got a prosciutto pizza and I can still taste the freshness. Oh my. Aunt Liz said that they supposedly have one of the only fancy Italian pizza ovens in the city. and if that's what made the pizza the way it was, I want to buy one. It was crispy and light but the dough didn't get soggy under its toppings.

It's been awhile since I have been able to say that I had a truly memorable meal at a restaurant. And it's saying a lot that the neither the poor atmosphere nor bad service clouded my judgement. Make a reservation, try it out and make sure to tell them you don't want to sit at the table by the side door.

Football

The only team we really root for around here is the Saints. J went to Dartmouth and well, where's the fun in rooting for them? and I went to Alabama but don't really have an allegiance to them although this football season seems like a good one to rally behind them. I am kind of sad for my kids that they won't feel the college football fever that LSU families have but I don't think anything can match WHO DAT NATION in full force. So we wait all week for the games and W checks out the football players in the sports sections everyday and even I am learning which teams we need to watch out for, who has a good running game (I sound like I know what I am talking about, don't I?) etc. and W wants to be Drew Brees everyday. I want to be Drew Brees everyday or any other NFL quarterback for that matter and make the coin that they make.

Anyway, I can't wait for Sunday and am ready to yell Who Dat! each and every time Drew starts his play (I'm superstitious. I have to do it).
and the boys are ready too!

R.E.S.P.E.C.T

Just recently I have noticed a new obsession of W's. At first I thought it was a passing comment. A week has now passed and the comments have not let up. Before going into more detail let me remind you that W is 4.

The first comment went something like this:
I was bending down to his level so I could hear what he was telling me and then out of the blue
W: I like those.
Me: You like what?
W: Those. as he taps both (clothed) boobs (which W calls bumpity bumps) with the flashlight he was holding.
Me: I was so shocked that I just ignored it and moved on.

The second comment wasn't really a comment. It was more of a drive by. You know the kind that teenage boys are known for doing in the movie theatre. They yawn and ever so discreetly put their arm around the girl and the hand, oops, lands on the bumpity bump. Well, he's 4, so he doesn't yet know of the yawn technique. We were all hanging out on my bed (again, fully clothed), Me, Pman and W. and out of nowhere I hear him whisper, " I want to touch those" as he simultaneously does.

Me: You can't touch that. and I swatted his hand away, quickly.

The next incident occurred at Swamp Fest. J was sitting right there and he just went for the gold. W's comment: I want to touch the bumpity bumps.

All I am asking is for a little respect. I mean, I know he is all innocence. My sweet boy is just curious. He notices something different and just wants to check it out but really?

After sharing my story around it seems that "bumpity bumps" are quite the obsession for boys and girls of this age so I feel a bit better about it. But couldn't someone have warned me?