Getting The Money Shot

One of the many joys of the Season is the annual taking of the the Christmas card picture. Some people leave this up to professionals. Some people use a nice shot of the family from when they were on vacation. Here in Weaselville we patiently wait for the stars to align in such a way that everybody is home and wearing clean clothes at the same time.

This astrological rarity coincidentally happened this past weekend. Actually, the right conditions were in place both Saturday and Sunday. Maybe I should check the calendar to see if it was a blue moon. Even with all the conditions coming together with a wide window of opportunity, things did not go easily.

When I mentioned taking the photo, Eldest insisted we take it in front of the Christmas tree, as we have often done in years past. The only catch, the tree had not yet been erected. Nor did I feel like pulling it out of the basement and setting it up. Eldest volunteered for this task and I gave her the nod.

Fast forward 12 hours. The tree is up and lit, but the branches have yet to be separated and fluffed in order to avoid the Charlie Brown look.

Fast forward 7 more hours and we are finally ready to take the picture while dinner is in the oven. The following is what happens when you take 5 hungry Weasels and 1 dog and try to take 1 Christmas Card picture.

These are Weasels:

In hopes that things would go a little smoother after everyone's blood sugar levels are back on track, this is the point at which we decided to take a break to eat dinner. You're welcome for me not posting all 374 pre - dinner pics.

These are Weasels on food:

Last but not least, the money shot that will appear on the Weasel Family Christmas card 2009:

Another Successful Year

Thanksgiving in Weaselville was busy, as expected. A day that started extremely early, even for Weasel standards and filled with hours spent in the kitchen -my favorite part of the day- and very little down time.

Eldest Weasel was running in a Turkey Trot with a friend first thing in the morning as Mr. Weasel smoked the bird of honor over indirect heat on the grill. I began chopping and prepping for all the various dishes of the day, including the feast of turkey parts that come stuffed and bagged inside the bird for Matilda The Hun.

All of the Weasels were disgusted and awed to watch the dog enjoy her special treats that they would dare not ever put into their mouths. Matilda then followed me around the kitchen for the rest of the day in hopes that I had some more tasty little morsels for her. Who says I can't make a feast fit for a dog?

Mr. Weasel fights a battle against the weather every year as he cooks the turkey outdoors, either by deep frying or smoking. The cold and the wind usually make it difficult to keep the temperatures high enough to cook the bird. This year however, he had trouble keeping the temperature from going too high, even though it was snowing when he started, and a cooking method that should have taken 12 hours for a 24 lb bird, was finished (overly so) in 5. The smokey taste however, was fantabulous and the dark meat - that I am not typically a fan of - was pure heaven. The white meat was a little on the dry side, was still delicious in flavor and there was plenty of gravy to go around. The stuffing was also smoked with the same result and once again the smoky flavor was outstanding, even if it was a little dry.

All the other dishes went off without a hitch and were tasty indeed, but the best part of the day was spending with our family and hearing all of the Weasels speak of what they are thankful for in their lives. The range of their gratitude extended from "my faith" to "the dog" and it was heart warming to hear them speak. We enjoyed sitting down to a wonderful meal without the spillage of a single drink! Miracles do happen!

After dinner and before pie, we turned to family movie night, as we are not a football kind of family, and shared the joy of Ferris Bueller's Day Off with the Weasels (edited for TV, of course), followed by the introduction of Home Alone to Smallest Weasel.

Weasels are now fully excited and ready to take on The Christmas season. Not only did Santa come to town at the end of the parade yesterday, but even better and more exciting to the Weasel's is that our dear friend Patsy is coming back to town on Saturday! They have been speaking of it constantly for weeks and asking "How many more days". It brings me such joy and pride that this is the focus of their hyper energy. That have such a love for this wonderful lady who is so special to me.

We have so much to be grateful for in Weaselville everyday. Mr. Weasel has a job this year. There is plenty of food on our table and dear friends in our lives. We are all healthy and happy and have the opportunity to share our blessings with others and be blessed by having others in our lives.

I wish you all the blessings of Christ and family this Christmas Season and want you to know that you were on my list of what I am thankful for. Especially, but not limited to Tom, NukeDad, Melisa, Momo Fali, Mrs.4444, PJ Mullen and I could go on, but would spend the rest of my day linking.

Thanksgiving Fun

*This was originally posted in November 2008*

Ahhh, Thanksgiving. A Time to come together with family and celebrate all of the blessings we have. A day to remember, appreciate and show gratitude for yet having survived another year. A day that more times than not is filled with landmines just waiting to be stepped on.

When spending the holiday with relatives, either by blood or marriage, there is always going to be sniper fire. Comments from Aunt Cookie, who still can't believe he married that little tramp, to the effect of "MMMMM, this tastes wonderful. It's not nearly as dry as it looks" and the inevitable small talk around the wine bottle about "little Susie's boobies are starting to bud". The conversation throughout the day will continually go downhill and you will soon get to hear all about Grandpa Dan's prostate in more detail than you can digest through.

You will hear all the play by play of cousin Lucy and her husband Jed's infertility issues, as Aunt Betsy is in the corner telling everyone that they can't conceive because Lucy was a tramp in college. Speculation and rumor of divorce will be whispered about Mike and Sara because they didn't accept the invitation to dinner. In reality, they were smart enough to avoid this whole scene in favor of 4 nights in the Bahamas.

Soon desert will be served. As Uncle Lou scoffs down his 3rd piece of homemade pie, Aunt Cookie asks "where did you buy the pie? I hope you didn't pay too much, it's a bit too sweet". You want to scream, but you have to play nice. You try to hide in the bathroom to take a few deep breaths only to find it occupied with Aunt Betsy and a colitis attack. Aunt Cookie blames the gravy.

In order to protect ourselves, here in Weaselville we start the day with bloody Mary's. They are just enough armour to deflect the scathing comments and numb the conversation. They take the edge off of an exhausting day. A huge debt of gratitude goes out to my sister-in-law for bringing this tradition to our family.

Here and now, I propose to you a new national holiday ~Grateful Friday~(to be celebrated on the 4th Friday of November) in order to appreciate and mock our relatives from a distance while enjoying a meal with friends. A day to show gratitude for the people we hang out with by choice, not just by birth or marriage. A day to celebrate and be grateful for having survived another Thanksgiving. We already have the day off of work. We already have dinner made, and the Bloody Mary's can be for fun and not just medicinal.

And a huge shout out to BadMomma who has a brilliantly funny Thanksgiving Survival Guide.

My 15 Seconds Of Fame

Yeah, yeah, yeah, the old saying is that we all get our 15 minutes sooner or later, I however will take what I can get.

Last night, after homework and before dinner, I took a few minutes to check my email, blog comments and twitter. Simultaneously, Greta Van Susteren send out a general tweet to effect of "Hey, I'm logged onto Skype, ping me now if you want to chat." (I can't find the exact tweet, but that was the gist of it.)

So I looked her up on Skype and hit that magic little call button. I didn't know the topic she wanted to discuss or the context of what the conversation would be and was nervous and very much second guessing my choice about making contact. It began to ring, and ring, and ring. I let it ring 7 or 8 times before giving up and figuring that 500 people were doing the same nervous sweaty under arm thing that I was.

In the mean time, my cell phone rang and it was none other than my dear blogging buddy, Mr. Man. We were chatting for just a minute or 2, when my Skype started ringing. "Mr. Man, I don't want to be rude, but I'm gonna have to call you back. Greta Van Susteren is calling me." Without missing a beat, Mr. Man responded "well, okay then." or something like that.


I answered the call and here is what ensued:
Greta promoted my blog and I saw a definite spike in the traffic last night. I woke up this morning to actual fan email in my inbox. I kid you not. I was pretty surprised to, and flattered, and a little creeped out. It was all very complimentary and ego boosting, but it was awfully strange and all very new for me.

I was sent well wishes from blogging and twitter friends and teased plenty in a jovial way from friends. Melisa wrote a fantabulously funny post about her delusions of how it all came to be on her blog. Coincidentally, I was already scheduled to have lunch with Melisa and Michelle of Honest and Truly.

When we were seated at our table we were already laughing and having fun as I played up my new celeb status as eyes were rolled and belly laughs abounded. The waitress came to greet us and immediately said "You look so familiar". I almost wet my pants trying to hold back the laughter. Of course she was talking about Michelle and Melisa's notoriety in the "Eating Cheesecake and calling it Lunch Hall of Fame" and how she remembered waiting on them in the past.

I'm enjoying my 15 minutes and just hope that it isn't up quite yet.

Some Times You Are The Windshield

Today I get to be the bug. What Now Dad has stealthily tagged me for a meme, and since I can't come up with anything original or amusing to write on my own He has bad teeth and his wife has confiscated meat from his diet while forcing him to eat tofu tacos I am a good sport, I am going to play along.

The Meme game is played as follows:
The person who is tagged goes to the first photo file on their computer and to the tenth photo in that file. The tagged person post the photo on their blog and tells the story behind it. Then the person tags a few people from the blogs that they read.

I am not nearly organized enough to keep my photos in folders, so I decided to blindly click on the first JPG file I saw and came out with this nugget of pure gold.
Why is this pic of such value as to be be compared with a rock that dwells deep under the dinosaur to family dog fertilized earth?

I knew you would ask that, and that is why I am prepared to tell you that this a rare pic is of me with my eyes open, a full smile and having a good hair day. A rare trifecta. and none other than Vodka Mom!

I had the privilege of meeting this fantastically funny and talented blogger at the BlogHer conference this past July. I knew that she would be attending and I shamelessly hunted through the crowds to spot her more aggressively than a wannabe tween groupie at Jonas Brothers concert. I even had the fabulous Melisa with 1 S, who does not share my affliction of being vertically challenged, use her hawk like vision to help me find this blogging hero of mine, and Melisa came through for me. She found Vodka Mom standing approximately 5 feet away from me at a party on the first night.

So what was I to do besides assault her faster than a teen boy rounding 3rd base and have a friend snap a picture before the poor lady even knew what had happened.

Ahhh, but my stalking and assaulting didn't stop there. Staying at the same hotel for 3 straight nights gave me loads of opportunity to provide cause for Vodka Mom to build a case for a restraining order to see, smile, wave and chat with this lovely and gracious lady.

I even happened to 'run into her' at 6am in the hotel coffee house. She was alone, drinking her morning coffee and working on her laptop. I did not let these facts stop me from sitting down to have a friendly conversation while she was cornered alone. While she was basically my hostage and I talked and had coffee, Vodka Mom stated that she needed an extra bag to lug home some of the weekends souvenirs and I quickly supplied her with one of mine reminiscent of girls throwing their panties to the Beetles on stage.

Stupid me. I got it all backwards. Elvis used to throw his sweaty scarves out to his fans as a keepsake. I just got to excited and erupted faster than Matthew Broderick in Biloxi Blues.

All joking aside, Vodka Mom is a warm, gracious and kind (not to mention funny) lady, who is even more vertically challenged than I, that I like to call, friend.

Oh and by the way, I am tagging

1. Melisa with 1 S ~ Because she's a sport and takes lots of pics.
2. NukeDad ~ Because I am convinced that he just forgot the password to get into the dashboard of his blog and this may inspire him to look through the NukeBeagles' droppings to find it. (Consider the gauntlet thrown.)
3. Tom of being Michael's Daddy ~ Because I know that he will have a good story to go with his picture.
   

Dear WeaselMomma

*Dear WeaselMomma is column that I write @ Dad Blogs, in which readers can send me advice seeking questions and I can inform them that if they are asking my advice, they are much worse off than they know.*

This edition of Dear WeaselMomma has been provided by "It's Party Time" and the letter Q.

Dear WeaselMomma,

How do I have a fantastic pity party for one? What would you serve? I’m not sure of the best pity party foods and beverages? Where is the best place to host it? What music do you recommend? And how can I let the person who is making me host this pity party know he/she has earned the number one spot on my all time “doo-doo” list? Waiting for your advice.

It’s Party Time

Dearest Party Animal,

I am not sure I am properly qualified to help you plan and execute a 'party for one'. Daddy files is actually the resident expert in that area and would most likely advise you to serve cantaloupe or any melon that has been warmed in the sun.

That said, I will offer you advice the best that I am able.

I personally would change the theme to a commiseration party, instead of a pity party. First off, parties are always better with guests and secondly, when you are having a tough time and feeling badly, friends are always good company to keep close.

What to serve all depends on whether you choose to do this as a breakfast, lunch or evening venue. I would host at your home to achieve that homely and cozy 'we are among friends' vibe going.
If you are thinking of a breakfast party you should serve coffee (all Irished up -of course) and beer for beverages along with bagels, cream cheese, very high fat coffee cake or anything else that you can just pick up at the store and don't have to actually prepare. Chocolate is great for these occasions, but you know how people feel about chocolate being consumed before noon.

If you are envisioning a lunch or brunch you should go with rum punch, mimosas and beer for beverage options. Serve comfort foods for the menu options, such as baked macaroni and cheese, twice baked potatoes and rice pudding. That's right, you need to carb load your tipsy guests so that they sit down in a comfy chair and keep great company for hours, as they are too tired and weighed down to actually get up and proceed with their daily responsibilities in life. You can sit platters of chocolate within 1/2 of an arms reach to keep the good times rolling indefinitely.

If an evening soire is more your thing, you need to go straight to the hard liquor and mixers along with a few bottles of highly pretentious wine so dry that Betty Ford herself exclaims "what the hell is this crap?" and beer. As far as food is concerned you can just set out a bowl of nuts and a plate of fake plastic food from the little tykes kitchen set that the kids stopped playing with over a decade ago. If your guests are coming over in the evening they are not interested in eating (hence, why you have chosen the hard liquor for this venue).

Now onto music. If this is a commiseration party, you simply go with country music. My truck cried, my wife lied and my dog died is sure to set the right mood for complaining about life's woes.

Finally, you need to let the main offender know of the party that you are throwing and that they are not invited to partake in your good times, friends and fun. The most mature and approriate way to get all of your points across simply and efficiently is with a great big raspberry! Trust me, you will feel better.

I hope that this helps with all of your party planing needs and that I receive my invitation soon. It sounds like it's going to be a good time.

The Good Old Days

Last night around dinner time, with my fever creeping back and body ache inching it's way into my bones, I knew it was time for my next dose of cold medicine. That's about the same time that I remembered I had already taken the last dose of Nyquil in the house the night before. I called Mr. Weasel to ask if he would pick some up on his way home, only to find out he wouldn't be home for hours yet. I couldn't wait for hours.

The suggestion was made that I could drive to the store with Eldest Weasel and have her run in and get the goods for me, but if I had to leave the house anyway I may as well just go alone and run into the store myself. I only needed one item. Besides, I wasn't even sure that Eldest would be allowed to make the purchase of such state controlled and dangerous items like pseudoephedrine here in stupid Illinois.

So off I went to hit the cold and flu aisle of the store. We all have seen the 100's of confusing options we now have in cold medicine. There is cold & sinus, cold and flu, allergy & sinus, pain reliever- fever reducer- stuffy nose & cough. There is sore throat -fever reducing- lottery number- sinus relief. All varieties are made by 15 different brand names and come in formulas such as Childrens, Regular, Extra Strength and Max!

All of these products do have one thing in common though, they don't work! They all have pretty much the same active ingredients, just different packaging and marketing. It made me miss the good old days of a pharmacy aisle being chock full of hard core, artificially colored, sugar filled, alcohol based cold and cough medicines.

Sure, the main active ingredient in the old school cold medicines was alcohol, but they worked to relieve your symptoms enough for you to sleep and your body to get the rest it needed to fight off the germs. Let's not forget that alcohol has many far reaching medicinal qualities and was regularly prescribed by physicians for many an ailment throughout the ages. It works well as an antiseptic germ killer and an anesthetic. It works as a pain reliever and as a muscle relaxant. Black berry brandy can settle an upset stomach better than any antacid and port wine is one of the best cough suppressants ever known to mankind. Alcohol works wonderfully as an anxiety reliever and stress reducer. Yet, it has been yanked from our medicine cabinets because alcohol contains, well alcohol.

So, as I was reading marketing labels of all the cold medicine boxes on the store shelves, they were all sporting "Sugar Free", "Alcohol Free" and "no artificial colors or dyes" on the front of the boxes as selling points. "Pick me, I have no active ingredients!"

It made me long for the days of my childhood. If I had a toothache, my Dad would take out a shot glass and pour about 1 teaspoon of whiskey into it. He'd tell me to dip my finger in and rub it on the tooth and gum, then to pour the rest into my mouth and swish it around before swallowing. By George, it worked and would help the ache until my parents could get me to the dentist.

If you had a bad cough, out of the liquor cabinet came the port wine and you would be given a thimble full every so many hours. If you had a bad cold or flu, not only would chicken soup be on the stove, but hot tea spiked with a splash of brandy, whiskey, schnapps or whatever kind of liquor was in the house that the taste could be disguised with sugar and tea. You were encouraged to drink it down fast and hot and then to go lie down. These old home remedies worked and when cold medicines originally hit the marketplace, alcohol was the #1 ingredient. If a parent were to give a child any of these alcohol based home remedies today, they may get put in front of a firing squad, just for the high-fructose corn syrup factor, before they were burned at the stake for the abuse of giving a child booze, no matter how medicinal or small the dose.

In the end, I picked up my box of alcohol free, psuedoephedrine filled, Nyquil liqui-tabs and headed for the checkout, kicking myself for not having the energy to just go to the liquor department for a bottle of Brandy, port wine and some old fashioned aspirin.

Don't forget to stop by Dad Blogs for some other interesting insights on all things Fatherhood and Parenthood related.

Sisyphus Symphony in D Minor

Cough, cough, cough, cough, cough,
sneeze, sneeze,
sneeze, sneeze.

Cough, cough, cough, cough, cough,
sneeze, sneeze,
sneeze, sneeze.

And don't forget chills,
can't get warm
and I might just really freeze.

Okay, so I may not have all the talent of the Jingle Cats or those dogs who bark out Christmas carols, but this is the symphony that I have been performing for the past few days. It goes on and on like a broken record. Everyone in Weaselville is tired of hearing it and I am tired of playing it. It starts looping about every 5 hours and continues until the next dose of medication kicks in.

While I recuperate I offer you these small observations:

• I love the tissues with lotion in them, until I forget about the lotion and use one to clean my glasses.
• Dayquil works for me and takes the edge off, Mucinex, not so much.
• Whenever a TV show or a movie has a scene with the characters brushing their teeth, they always spit, but never rinse. I don't know why, but this really gets under my skin.
• Whenever a teen is helpful and pleasant, they want something.
• When you tell said teen that may NOT go see a midnight showing of a movie with their friends on a school night, they will no longer be helpful and pleasant.
• Weasels will never be ready to leave for school on time no matter how early you wake them up or prepare ahead of time. It's the same craziness everyday and sometimes I feel like Sisyphus.
• First thing in the morning, the dog relieves herself outdoors like a girl. She goes out, takes care of business quickly and back inside.
• As the day wears on, she takes the guy route. Sniffs around, leisurely walking back and forth and in circles, seeking out the perfect squat spot for 45 minutes before finally taking care of business.
  

That's all for today folks. It's time to let the Dayquil start working.

Days To Be Remembered

*Happy 234th Birthday to The United States Marine Corps and to my Dear Old Dad! Today I am re-posting what I had written for November 10th of last year, simply because I don't think I could state my thoughts any better if I were to rewrite it.*

Today is my Dad's birthday. It's not the actual anniversary of his birth, but his '2nd birthday' as he used to refer to it. Today marks the 233rd Birthday of the United States Marine Corps. Dad was a Marine. I know, I know, 'Once a Marine always a Marine', but Dad passed away 10 years ago. So 'was' seems an appropriate term.

Dad loved his birthdays, both of them. That is where I learned to love my birthday. Not that a kid needs a reason to love their birthday, but he taught me to always enjoy my birthday no matter how many years it was that I was celebrating. He taught me that my birthday was my own special day and that I should treat it as a special holiday. Through the years, I have realized that on this and many other topics, Dad was right. He was never about presents and cake, just about remembering and gesturing.

Dad always celebrated the Marine Corps Birthday. He always took a vacation day from work for each of his birthdays, although he rarely took a sick day. As a child he would always convince his mother to let him stay home from school as his present. None of his 7 siblings ever got the day off.

Dad never reminded us his 2nd birthday was coming. He never expected presents. He just wanted us to remember and acknowledge. Year after year we would wake up for school, enter the kitchen, see Dad and say "Why are you home?". "It's my birthday." was the response. Oops, forgot again!

Today I have not forgotten. Nor have I since I reached adulthood.

Dad was a real special kind of guy. Lots of people think that about their dad, but he really was. He was Joe six-pack. Jack of some trades, master of none. He was a dependable friend, a completely devoted husband and a great Dad.

Dad never gave himself credit for being very smart. He hated school and struggled with his classes. He used to call himself a 'dummy', but he was one of the smartest people I have ever met. He would discuss any subject. If it was something he didn't know about, he wanted to listen and learn. If it was a subject he disagreed about, he wanted to understand the other side. And if it was something that required thought, he was a man you wanted to hear from.

Dad was always extremely well thought out. He could always offer you a different prospective and a reason. You would never walk away without food for thought. He was a good sounding board and a great counselor.

Dad is also where I developed my sense of humor. He loved a good joke, especially if the players weren't in on it. He derived enjoyment from small pleasures and was self entertaining. Dad would stir up trouble just to watch it play out and have a good laugh. As we got older he would fill us in and have us enjoy the laugh with him as we watched the scene play out. Most of it was gut busting funny. He knew how to stir a pot. He could also entertain the room with the best stories. He was a one of a kind.

Dad understood how to handle a teenager. He knew how to get through to us when screaming and grounding were no longer deterrents and abuse had been outlawed. Once, and only once, on a Friday night when I was 18 ,and home from college for the summer, I stayed out all night all night at a local bar with friends (don't gasp like you never). I came home barely in time to change into my work clothes and in no condition to go to work at 6 a.m. Dad sat at the kitchen and said nothing more than 'good morning" when I entered the house. I changed and left for work ( a 2 block walk) and endured 8 hrs in an unforgiving, un-airconditioned kitchen in the city during August. Needless to say, by the time my shift was over at 2, I was ready for some rest and recuperation. I was sick to my stomach, sweaty, head pounding and exhausted. All I wanted was to hit my bed.

After I entered the house and before I could hit the sheets, Dad said to me "I need you to do me a favor". That was the unspoken kiss of death and I knew it. "I need my whites(laundry) washed for the morning". After that it was 'could you shine up my shoes, take care of the kitchen, the rug needs some attention, and the list when on and on until he showed some mercy around 10 p.m. I got the message. I never pulled that trick again.

There have been many times since his death that I have wished for his council, advice, comfort. There have been times that I have longed for his wisdom and company.

Today I will continue a tradition that began when I finally started remembering this birthday. I will bake a Birthday cake. I will not let the Weasels have any until they sing Happy Birthday to the Marine Corps. I think Dad would get a kick out of that.

I could go on until this became a book. There is so much more I could say say. So many more stories to tell. But what it boils down to is this; I love you Dad, Happy Birthday.

And a Happy Birthday to the Marine Corps and all Marines. Thank you for your your service. Semper Fi.

Stylish Moron

I love friends. I love Birthdays. So it naturally follows that I love celebrating friends birthdays. This is one of the many reasons that I was tickled and excited when I received a special invite to help celebrate a wonderful milestone birthday for a close friend by attending a girls day spa party at a swanky resort for an afternoon full of pampering and an evening full of friends, food and libations.I love massages. They feel so wonderful and relax me to the point of jello-ness. The only problem, I have back and neck problems. Due to the nature of my issues, massages are too much of a good thing. The last time I had a full one hour massage (9 years ago) I spent the next six months hanging out with my chiropractor 3 times a week. Good thing I like the guy.

So when the special spa day invite came it put me into a conundrum. I could opt for the facial, but they just don't really do much for me except make my face break out worse than when I was 15. I could have a mud bath, but I could do that in my yard with the kids and the dog for free. I could opt for a mani/pedi/toe wax, but the swank prices were a little to much to pay for those services. Hmmm, what to do? What to do?

Then it came to me. I'll get a massage! Yes, sometimes I am just plain old stupid.

I convinced myself that if I only got the 1/2 hour hot stone massage with no deep tissue work, I would be fine. I would then top it off with 1/2 hour of reflexology (a swanky and fantastic foot massage). When all was said and done, I didn't want it to be over. It was so good and I felt so relaxed. Wrapping myself back up in my uber plush, thick and soft robe that I seriously considered putting in my bag to take home and heading into the dimly lit and serene lounge room to join some of our crew for snacks and water while lying on day beds waiting for Mark Anthony to come feed me grapes living the good life.

After a soak in the hot tub and few minutes making use of the sauna, it was time to dress and primp again before heading to the hotel lounge/bar to begin girls night out.

The company was delightful, the mood light, the drinks cold and the stools backless. After about an hour of sitting on these stools I knew I was in trouble. My neck started to tighten and ache. My back was still so relaxed that it refused to pick up the slack and support my neck like it usually does. The birthday girl spotted me and immediately recognized what was happening. Anyone who spends time with me regularly can spot the signs of 'she over did it'.

When it was time for our sweet ride to pick us up and take us to our next girls night out locale, our most wonderful hostess assumed correctly that I just needed to get home to my orthopedic pillow on my orthopedic bed and had the driver drop the gang off at the next party stop and continue on to take myself and another guest (who was recovering from a recent surgery) back to our cars.

I drove home and went straight to my bed upon entering the house. I had given Mr. Weasel a heads up phone call and he has all set to tuck me in with a handful of ibuprofen. Sunday arrived with me wishing I had a traction contraption set up in the house. I didn't get out of bed until noon and was back in bed by 5:00. This morning I am still relegated to the couch and pain pills that make me stoned groggy and my face numb, but help with the pain.

To so recap, I was the youngest gal at the party, yet felt like the oldest, and Weasels need to re-learn lessons about every 9 years. I am a moron, but I do it with style.

Yeah For Friday!

First and Foremost on this lovely Friday morning, HAPPY BIRTHDAY MELISA with 1 S!!!!!!!!!!!! Please join me in heading over to The Suburban Scrawl and leaving her some birthday comment love, spread the word and maybe today she can have the most comments ever. What a nice present that would be!

In order to celebrate the momentous event, Melisa and I will be livestreaming a special Birthday Episode of Suburban Wow this morning at 10 est/9 cst. Tune in and join the fun by clicking here and interact with us via Twitter by using @ messages and following us and others who are watching and be part of the conversation.

Also, don't forget that it is Fatherhood Friday over on Dad-Blogs.com. Go read and enjoy. Don't forget that it is time to register for the Dad-Blogs Convention to be held in Chicago this July! Both Melisa and I will be attending and this would be a great chance to meet all of you. Moms are obviously welcome and there are lots of great things planned. If you register now, you can still get the early bird discount on registration. Room rates are a huge bargain @ $109/nt including wi-fi and cooked to order hot breakfast in an all suite hotel. You can't beat that deal. Click here for details.

Must Be The Money

It's been so long since my last post, that I'm starting to feel like Nuke Dad. With Big Brother looking over my shoulder, I offer you full disclosure that the link I provided should be taken as an endorsement of his site and that although Nuke Dad hasn't paid, nor offered to pay, for the link or endorsement, yet, I am sure that he will feel compelled to drop $10 into my paypal account.

Since Friday I have been busy living life. The Cross Country team performed well at their sectional meet this past Saturday, alas, not well enough to move onto the State meet. They had a great season and have much reason to be proud. (I didn't mention the name of the team or the league because they have no intention what-so-ever of paying me for a mention).

What I really need to get to work on is planning for this Friday's Special Birthday edition of Suburban Wow. Full disclosure, I am a co-host, co-producer and co-writer of Suburban Wow. I make $0 per episode and am being paid $0 for the link. This Friday is Melisa (with 1 S)'s birthday and I need to think up something wonderful to do for the show to celebrate. Full disclosure, this link is her birthday gift and a ringing endorsement that you should visit her blog The Suburban Scrawl regularly.

In other news, over a month ago I won a caption contest from Big Bad Daddy Rant, prize value = a mention on his blog ($10 value USD). After posting that I won though, Big Bad Daddy fell off the face of the earth and therefore won't be able to compensate me for this mention and link.

Have you been over to Being Michael's Daddy lately? Tom has a video up showing how his family goes all out for Halloween and they do go all out. The decorations and effort they put into the whole shebang are fantastic. Go check it out and leave him a comment saying that I sent you. Even though Tom hasn't agreed to this yet, I am sure that he will feel compelled to drop $1 per visitor sent from me into my paypal account once he sees how much traffic comes his way.

Seashore Subjects is another great blog to visit. She is a pretty cool chick to visit too, which is just what I am contemplating doing. As it happens, she and I are old friends and my sister is getting married just minutes from her home. I am hoping for room, board and round trip rides to the airport/wedding in exchange for the endorsement.

If anyone else in interested in making me as rich and this blog as lucrative as the FTC thinks it is, just drop me a line and we can work out a payout an arrangement for linkage, mentions and endorsements.