My two cents

on Fonzie.

Why do people think he is so cool?  He lives in the Cunningham's garage and hangs out with a bunch of high school nerds.  Is it the leather jacket that gives the impression of superiority?  The sweet pompadour?  The limited vocabulary?  He appears to have no friends his own age (I have guesstimated him to be about 30) and spends an inordinate amount of time in a public restroom. 
I can understand that he was the best prospect for a girl like Laverne or Pinky Tuscadero but I don't really understand why the other flocks of high schoolers who worship him.
Growing up there was a similiar character in my town.  His name is Hefe, he wears a lot of camoflauge and would buy us beer when he came around the local hangouts.  He was about 10-15 years older than us and even though he hung out with us no one ever thought he was "cool".  The last time I saw Hefe, his camoflauge outfir failed him and I could see him smoking crack in the bushes by the bus stop.

Joy

Ah, the joys of baby diarrhea.  The stink is finally starting to clear from the house and now we can start putting the pieces back together.  Literally, we have to put the highchair back together because he crapped all over it.  Who lets a baby with diarrhea not wear pants?  What was I expecting, that the diaper would suddenly start keeping it all in, especially in a seated position.  I deserved exactly what I got.

This week is the big "O", so I'm trying to drink as much wine and coffee as I can while I can.  And eat a big chunk of feta.  That reminds me, I should get a turkey sandwich this week too.  It's funny because last time I was pregnant I really felt like I missed the things I couldn't have, but once I could have them I didn't really want them.  I swore I was going to eat swordfish non-stop once the baby was born and then weaned, I still haven't had it.  I have definitely increased my alcohol and caffeine intake but not so much with the food.  I used to eat turkey everyday before I got pregnant but now I lost my taste for it.  It could also be that the last time I got turkey at the deli it was wet and nasty.

Good times

Nothing like opening a child's bedroom door at 1:30 AM and getting hit in the face with diarrhea stink.  This is our first bout of diarrhea and it is unmistakable.  I sometimes wondered if some of his breastmilk poops were diarrhea or his teething/drool poops were, but it is honestly unmistakable when it is the real deal.   The sweet boy handled it in stride as a put him, still dressed in his pajamas, in the bath tub to try and clean him.  He smiled and tried to find his bath toys.  My amazing husband who jumped out of bed to my distress calls and had the brains to bring a roll of paper towels.  I feel like I should also give credit to the lone blueberry that made it through.