I took my son into the doctor's office today where he was diagnosed with an ear infection. The medicine prescribed for him supposedly tastes like bubblegum.

This was the icebreaker the pedicure technician used on me this past weekend as I settled in for an hour of relaxation (thanks to a gift certificate my husband gave me for Christmas).

This was one of the recipes published in today's food section of the local newspaper. The article was about a cookbook being produced that includes ECU (East Carolina University) tailgating recipes. I'm not sure what to think of it. On one hand, I like each of the ingredients individually, but I'm a little grossed out by putting them all together and calling it a "salad".

My work area is at the end of the bar where the laptop is. From this position, I can see into the living area and into the kitchen.

I took my two kids shopping today at Target for a few things: diapers, a blow-up kiddie pool, and a few other small items. As I was heading down the aisle where the pools were, my 2-yr old son yelled out "crackers!" (Or his word for crackers, that is) I was thinking...is there some toy that looks like crackers? Then, of course, I saw that Target had conveniently placed a corner display of goldfish crackers at the front of the toy aisle. I could have, and should have, just told my son that we would get crackers later, but I gave in and gave him a box. (I don't always give in to these requests, but I did today.) Although it is my fault for giving in, I felt really suckered by Target...if I want crackers, I go to the freaking cracker aisle! But in this case, Target didn't care what "I" wanted. The display was almost empty, so I'm obviously not the only victim.

My due date was this past Monday, June 5, but I am still sitting here looking like I'm trying to hide a basketball under my shirt.

...to entertain a 2-yr. old.

This was the theme of the cooking class that my husband and I attended this evening. We received a gift certificate for the class as a Christmas gift. With a title like "Valentines in Venice", one would expect there to be some attempt at making the atmosphere somewhat romantic, even if it is supposed to be a class.

Several months ago I agreed to accept a 1902 piano that belonged to my grandmother, who passed away over 10 years ago.

A few weeks ago, Mark shared a link that tells one how bypass all the automated BS when trying to contact various corporations and actually speak to a person.

In contrast to the bad Chinese restaurant experience about which Mark wrote a while back, I'd like to describe the meal I had this evening.

Last night we were watching some late-night TV when we heard a woman scream in the distance.

Ever since I had my son a year and a half ago, I have not been able to shed those last few (well, more than just a few) pounds. Not that I care what the numbers are, I would just like to be able to wear some of my pre-pregnancy pants. Maybe one day I will.

I just returned from the post office to purchase some stamps for paying bills, even though we already have a couple sheets of the really cool Modern Architecture ones.

Does anyone else feel a sense of waste when using a "pretty" stamp to send off a bill? I feel much better about using the small stamps with boring designs for bill-paying as opposed to the really cool ones with big graphics depicting architecture or cartoon characters.

The utility companies, credit card companies, etc. just aren't worthy of the good stamps, even though they cost the same and are usually just as plentiful as the others.

A recent communication with a friend that still works at my previous place of employment got me reminiscing about the good ole days of working in an office...such as the following:

Having a child, one quickly learns about child car seats (we were not allowed to leave the hospital without a car seat approved by the hospital) and safe travel with your child..."rear-facing", "forward-facing", "ball-in-the-green-zone", etc. At a certain age and weight, our son will graduate to some sort of "booster seat". And until he is 12, he's not even allowed to ride in the front seat (I don't think).

What was legal 25 years ago (and not considered scary or unsafe) would probably send one to jail today, however. One of my fondest memories of family travel when I was growing up was riding down the highway with my two younger brothers in the back of my dad's pick-up truck sitting on a metal bench seat pushed against the back. The seat was as high as the sides of the truck and there was nothing restraining us to the seat or the seat to the truck, either. Thank goodness my dad was a good driver.

I sure had fun riding that way, and am glad that I have memories of it, but there is no way I would ever do that again! The thought of my son riding that way sends a shiver down my spine.

The recent Pantomime My Ass entry made me think of another social situation that is always a little uncomfortable and annoying:

When you run into someone you know in the grocery store, spend a few minutes talking, say goodbye, go on your way shopping, then run into them somewhere else in the store. What do you say? I usually try to pretend like I don't see them, unless they are going along a similar shopping path, in which case I have to say something else to them. Usually as long as I don't catch their eye, I don't worry about whether or not they're onto me. I usually like to shop in peace and keep to myself, so unless I run into a really good friend, I prefer to not run into that person again on the same trip.

Anyone else have a similar take on this?

This past week I learned how to knit. I have always been impressed with handknit items that have been given to me, especially a little hooded sweater given to my son this past winter. So I decided to take up a friend's offer to teach me how to do it. After a lesson a couple weeks ago and purchasing a couple how-to and pattern books, I have made 2 hats so far. I was surprised at how easy it is to make some really cool things knowing just a couple basic stitches. Sure...there are lots of fancy techniques out there, but you can easily make a cool ribbed hat in a couple/few days. I had fun going into a yarn shop and picking out yarn for my next project. My plan is to make a lot of Christmas presents this year.

For the first time in a few years, we've had a good crop of tomatoes. Last year the squirrels would pluck off the green ones, take a few bites, and toss them aside, which really pissed me off. But this year, we've been lucky.

I think I'm going to make some salsa tonight...yum.

Something disturbed me yesterday evening.

This is how I refer to the dark, narrow hallway that leads to the bedrooms in the house my parents are about to move out of.

For me, summer has not really begun until I've had my first batch of pesto made from basil grown in my garden. That's what we had for dinner tonight. I was also able to pick a couple of cucumbers to put on the salad.

This is where we finally found my keys after spending all day looking for them and thinking about whether we should change out the locks on the house and wondering if our car was going to get stolen.

If it was still just my husband and I in the house, we would've found the keys fairly quickly. But since we have a 13-month-old who likes to play with our stuff and leave it in weird places, we had to search the entire house...the spice cabinet, behind the radiators, in the pantry, etc. I had given up hope... and my back and knees were sore from bending over to look into every crevice I could find. Then around 10:30 tonight, my husband walks downstairs holding the keys. My son had dropped them into the spine of one of the binders (that rarely gets used) in my husband's office.

My son is now asleep and I'm drinking a beer to celebrate.

Before today, I wasn't familiar with the sensation of pasta sauce soaking through my pants.

This morning I took my son to the NC Museum of Natural Sciences. Neither of us had been there before. And it was free, so there wasn't much to lose. So obviously there were tons of other kids there...school groups and kids with their parents. I had one of those moments that made me feel like I was walking a dog, though.

Yesterday we attended my nephew's 1st birthday party. Since one of the things that a kid is "supposed" to do on his/her 1st birthday is get really messy eating their first piece of cake, that's what I was expecting. (Our son totally destroyed an entire cake, while sticking gobs of chocolate icing in his mouth every now and then. However, I don't give my son cake or other sweets except on special occasion. A kid just doesn't need all that sugar. He'll discover it later on his own, I'm sure.)

My neighborhood is full of unusual characters, many of which are the reason I don't spend much time in my front yard. The following live either next door or across the street (names have been changed):

The first time I shopped in a Super Walmart (one that has a grocery store included) was like a dream. I don't mean that it was great or anything, though. Just that going from the clothing area to the produce section directly across the aisle was like one of those dreams where you suddenly find yourself in a different place but can't explain how you got there and can't make sense of it. This happened several years ago, but it sticks in my mind as one of those surreal experiences that I can't forget...sort of like the Duplin Winery "Tour 'n' Tastin'."

About three years ago we were driving west on I-40 on our way back to Raleigh from Wilmington, NC. We saw a sign for Duplin Winery and spontaneously decided to stop and check it out.

My son turns 1 next Tuesday. It just occurred to me a couple days ago that I should probably get him a present. I guess because I give him things all day every day that I forgot that I should think about something special to give him that will be his first birthday present.

Last spring, our ancient, decrepit washing machine finally broke down for good. So we had to buy another one.

Now that I'm the mother (gosh...saying that makes me feel old...just a couple years ago I was enjoying an evening of "poop-dollar") of an 11-month old, I realize that I must get used to leaving every restaurant that we visit with our child a total mess on the floor. Tonight we left falafel and Cheerios in a 36" radius around the high chair. But it's not really a big deal, I don't think. I think the cost of the food more than covers a few swipes with a broom.

(Wanna know what "poop-dollar" is? Ask Evan Mann.)

This is something that I've wanted to write about for a long time because it pisses me off almost every time. Well, maybe "pissed off" is a little harsh, but anyway... Perhaps some of you can identify with this situation: