These pics were never meant to be saved beyond the date they were taken. However, through the magic of technology, nothing can be deleted.

These pics of my embarrassing husband were taken for an Xmas joke for our friends. One of the copies sits upon our friend’s TV.

I don’t have a copy on my TV for obvious reasons, but now the pics are available for all to see this FOOL.

I know, I know… I married him.

Egg Hunting with Daddy

On our first day in Manhattan, I think I ate 8000 calories in just dinner, dessert, and 2nd dessert.

Union Square Cafe ~ 7:30pm

I don’t drink beer, but HockeyMan does. It’s just a good pic.

Potato-less Gnocchi - Who knew? Mine

Serious Scallops Mine

Polenta with Goodness Ours

Banana Goodness Mine

Bull & Bear at the Waldorf=Astoria ~ 11:00pm

Real Waldorf Salad at the Waldorf=Astoria Mine

Onion Soup HockeyMan

Almond Creme Brule at Bull & Bear Mine

Key Lime Sandwich HockeyMan

Uhhhhhh….. How much for apps and dessert????
Our receipt at Bull & Bear at Waldforf=Astoria.

I’m thinking of going into a new career - food photog as long as I get to eat the food after.

Wordless Wednesday

I have two giveaways up at running. We’re heading out of town (see Haiku), so check out the giveaways!

Mamas Like - The Safe Sippy cup

Good for the Kids - Set of 6 Ty Beanie Babies 2.0

I love you!

In honor of V-Day (and Mishi told me I had to), here’s 13 ways I say, “I love you”:

1. You da bomb.

2. Lurve ya.

3. You kinda stink. Can you take a shower before we…?

4. That was a GOOD one (fart)!

5. Later.

6. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.

7. Miss you.

8. You make pretty babies.

9. Thanks for bringing me home a McFlurry!

10. Yes, you can take my girlfriend out on a date.

11. Here’s the remote.

12. Thanks.

13. You are such a dork.

I love you.

knowing I can call or text and get a response any time, any day.

a kiss on my neck.

a pat on my butt.

watching Oprah with me, though you’ll deny it.

putting the clean sheets on the bed. Correctly.

touching my feet under the covers.

putting water next to my side of the bed.

letting me have the remote.

taking care of me, Sicky McSickalot.

not flinching when you fart.

farting and you don’t flinch. But I never fart.

loving my friends.

putting up with my family.

patience.

understanding.

letting me have my way.

being the best dad to my girls.

Thanks, Mishi, for making me think.

13 Promises I broke made before I had kids:

1. I will never be “that mom” that goes everywhere in a t-shirt and sweats. They’re not sweats. They’re housepants.

2. I will continue to work to pay for my college loans. Those have to be paid back? Does Sallie Mae take scribbles on paper as payment?

3. I will continue to have a life of my own. By “life,” did I mean change human poo diapers and suffer through The Bee Movie?

4. I will discipline my kids to follow all of the rules I set. That’s a good one.

5. I will not allow my kids to have a TV in their bedroom. That one just fell through today. 3 1/2 years is good, right?

6. I will not allow my kids to whine or cry in public. Still intact. Believe me. OK, don’t.

7. I will feed my kids homemade, natural organic foods. Like Eggos, Ritz Bits, and Kraft Macaroni & Cheese.

8. I will not use bribery to get my kids to do what I ask. We’re using a trip on the Disney Cruise as incentive to potty train. Seriously. And they still won’t do it. I wonder if they’re mine.

9. I will not allow my kids to watch more than 30 minutes of TV a day. Sorry. Can’t be done in this house.

10. I will never dress my kids in matching outfits. Come on! My girls were meant to be dressed in coordinating outfits! Look at them!

11. I will start formally educating my kids early to instill a love of learning. They’ll catch up in Pre-K.

12. I will take my kids outside on a regular basis for physical activity. It’s too hot…..

13. I will not allow my kids to eat at McDonald’s for as long a humanly possible. I’ve actually kept to that one! I CAN keep a promise! I’m not saying they’ve never had fast food - just not Mickey D’s. It’s more my thing. I can’t eat McD or my sphincter will no longer be my friend. TMI, I know.

Thursday 13

I’m giving props to one of my favorite blogs, i am bossy and I’m stalking her to force, no, make her my friend, and borrowing her “little known facts” section of her blog. I’m not as fancy-pants as her blog is, but I’ll get there someday. So, as a tribute to bossy, I’m starting “You Didn’t Really Want to Know This, but Now You’re Stuck Reading” or “YoDiReWaKnThNoYoStRe.” That’s a bit long, so how I’ll re-name it, “Farts and Other Stuff.”

*Around MessyHouse, when a fart is released, it is always answered in the form of a question: “What?”

*HockeyMan belches in word-form: “BUUUUUURRRRRP”

*I have webbed toes - makes me swim faster. It’s not geeeroooossssss, but some people get weirded out by them. I can still wear sandals and most people don’t notice. Unless their my closest friends, and then they just refer to me as “freak.”

*I know all of the words to Def Leppard’s Pour Some Sugar On Me. I’m a product of the early 90s.

*I believe that the album Ten by Pearl Jam is, and always will be, the greatest album in its entirety. DO NOT CHALLENGE ME ON THIS, or you will be blacklisted. I’m not sure how, but don’t test me.

*I can test HockeyMan’s 80s Hair Band knowledge by tuning to Sirius channel 23 (Hair Nation), and he can guess the band with 90% accuracy.

*My husband is David Beckham. Do NOT tell me otherwise.

It’s a freak show at MessyHouse. More freakishness will follow.

This, my tens of friends, is a picture from HockeyMan’s Junior prom. His date - she would be a 26-year-old stripper (not at the time of the picture, but she became one soon after).

The best part of the picture is unseen. What you don’t see is HockeyMan’s mom babysitting his date’s daughter.

This is gonna be not-so-pretty, so if you’re from a family that doesn’t discuss poo and other bodily functions, especially when sick, then skip this post. Come back later for the cute Wordless Wednesday post.

For the 2nd time in 2 months, I have strep throat. The last time, I had it for a week before I saw the doc because it was just an annoying sore throat. Well, my tens of friends, this time, it put me on my ass. Knocked me out. Landed me on the couch and on the crapper.

This time, I, thank GOD, had a doc appt immediately. This strep is the kind of strep that you don’t wish on your worst enemies. Not even Dick Cheney. Although… with that bad heart of his would put Pelosi in office… Hmmmm… I digress.

I woke up Sunday morning with a tickle in my throat, but with the stuffy/runny nose I’d had for 3 days, I figured it was just an upper resp infection or allergies or dry air. I made it through the day, but felt worse late Sunday night. Monday morning, I woke up feeling craptastic. Not horrible, but my throat hurt enough for me to ask HockeyMan to come home as soon as possible b/c The Boss wasn’t going to school. I took Trouble to school, but kept The Boss home b/c we were still waiting for her strep test to come back. (BTW - Why is it that the walk-in clinic has the rapid strep test, but the Otolaryngologist/ENT does not?)

Trouble’s teachers were kind enough to tell me I looked like ass, but in a nice church lady kind of way. Gee. Thanks. You just verified that I look as crappy as I feel.

By 11am, I was begging HockeyMan to run home b/c The Boss was “bothering” me wanting me to “parent” her. I’m not sure how a 3-year-old bothers me, but at that point, I didn’t care what she needed - it was bothersome.

Being the Dad of the Year and Husband of the Year that he is, HockeyMan was home by 12. And not a moment too soon.HockeyMan and The Boss left on an excursion and to fetch Trouble and left me on the couch to rest. And that’s when it came.

**Note to my tens of readers and myself: If you even THINK you may be sick (barf, upchuck, throw up, vomit), get to the bathroom ASAP.**I did not listen to that inner voice telling me to run to the crapper. No - I threw up all over myself and the couch. N.A.S.T.Y. and not in the Janet Jackson kind of way. Not one barf - two.

What am I thinking in the process? “Damn - I just turned over these cushions to make it look like a semi-new couch. Now I have my own barf stains to welcome my friend’s asses. Do not tell any one of my friends that I have puked on this couch.” Yes, all of that went through my head in about the 5 seconds it took to not get to the toilet.

I felt better, but I had to clean up all of my own puke, which if you’ve never done it before, really sucks. I felt better though! I covered the couch and laid back down and descended into an afternoon/evening of in-and-out of consciousness, eating oatmeal (which, I fixed myself - I have no idea how), and frightening my children. They don’t like sick people.

HockeyMan finally made me go to bed, but I could barely move, scared that I’d repeat the earlier experience of barfing on myself. I finally made it to the bathroom with his help, and proceeded to puke up the remainder of my guts, along with some dry-heaving. I DO NOT recommend dry-heaving with strep throat unless you enjoy the feeling of hot serrated knives being slowing inserted into your throat. In that case, get some therapy.

HockeyMan gave me a magic pill that put me right to sleep. I slept until 11am this morning barely waking to greet/scare my children.

Did I mention he’s Dad AND Husband of the Year?

I’ll leave my heart-warming story for now, but there are many more details I’m leaving out for another day. I know you can’t wait…