Thursday, June 28, 2012

Chicago (the sequel)

I can't believe we've been here two and a half weeks already! Time sure flies when you're having fun (and eating nonstop). Really, when the kids and I were making lists of places and people we wanted to see here in Chicagoland, we must have come up with a dozen different restaurants. I think we've hit them all! That's a big reason why I'm so ready to get back home - I think I've gained twenty pounds since we got here!

Although I didn’t get to see everyone on my list and I surely didn’t get to spend enough time with those friends I did see, it’s time for us to return home.  It’s so hard saying goodbye to everyone yet again.  My whole family is so very blessed with the most amazing friends in the world.  The lengths they went to in order to make our visit here comfortable and care-free are immeasurable.  The time, effort, and expense they put into it is appreciated more than they know.  I don’t know why God has blessed me with such friends and family, but I’m sure thankful.  I’m certain I don’t deserve them.

Now it’s time to begin our trek back home, but before the neighbors can start rejoicing that “those noisy Meehans are leaving”, I’ll present you with a few more pictures of my beloved Chicago.   I’m so glad I took so many pictures and video while we were here.  I don’t know what people ever did before video!  I used my Sony Handycam to record EVERYTHING while we’ve been on vacation.  I’ll edit it down and cut out some of Clay being goofy because really, how many times can you listen to your kids talk about poop in one video?  But I’m so glad we’ll be able to look back on this vacation and relive all the good times we’ve had.

I hope you enjoy looking at these photos as much as I enjoyed taking them.  :)

dsc 0069b Chicago the Sequel
The Chicago River
It's awesome when they dye it green for St. Patrick's Day, but I personally think it stays perpetually greenish. It's pretty, isn't it? That yellow boat is a water taxi.
thumbs dsc 0069b Chicago the Sequel
thumbs dsc 0078b Chicago the Sequel
thumbs dsc 0079b Chicago the Sequel
thumbs dsc 0080b Chicago the Sequel
thumbs dsc 0083 Chicago the Sequel
thumbs img 0932 Chicago the Sequel
thumbs 115 Chicago the Sequel
thumbs one Chicago the Sequel
thumbs two Chicago the Sequel
thumbs 190c Chicago the Sequel
thumbs 4585180247 0189346e49 o Chicago the Sequel
Want to capture your own family memories on video? We’re giving away two Sony Handycams! To enter for a chance to win, simply comment on any Sony-sponsored post (including this one) with an answer to the following question: what’s your favorite family memory? Contest runs through 11:59 p.m. EDT on September 30th, 2012, and you may enter once per post. Contest is open to U.S. residents only.

Want a chance to win weekly prizes like a Sony Handycam or a $200 Disney shopping card? Enter to win here!

A big thanks to Sony for sponsoring this campaign. Click here to see more of the discussion.


Sunday, June 24, 2012

I Am One Hot Mama! (No, Really I Am)

This is reason 239 why I can never go on a date. I met my friend Jen for dinner the other night. I was so excited to see my friend and to go partake of some delicious Greek food. And let’s face it, having an evening out without kids is always nice. Heck, I schedule dental appointments just to get out of the house by myself, and sharing a plate of saganaki with one of my very best friends is way better than rinsing and spitting into a miniature toilet bowl!

I picked up my friend and started driving to Greek Islands (the restaurant, not an actual island in Greece because everyone knows you can’t drive there in one evening).  I had to stop for gas on the way and that’s when it happened.  As I was pumping gas, I felt a fine layer of perspiration forming on my forehead.  It was warm out, but not really sweat-inducing warm.  Still, the flush was beginning, spreading throughout my body.  I envisioned a cartoon thermometer above my head slowly filling with red until the mercury exploded out the end in a shower of crimson droplets.

For the rest of the ride, I sat with the vents aimed toward my face, the air blasting cold. But it didn’t help.  Jen and I entered the restaurant and were seated.  I immediately grabbed the menu and began furiously fanning myself.  I grasped my water glass, hoping the coolness would seep into my bloodstream through my hands and spread throughout my body, cooling as it flowed through my veins.  Failing to feel the desired icy effect, I grabbed the glass and gulped its contents instead.

I looked at Jen and stammered an apology for creating a wind tunnel with my menu while explaining about “those freaking hot flashes.”  When the waiter approached, I was busily wiping sweat from my forehead and upper lip and hadn’t even opened my menu as it was still being employed as a fan.  I thought to myself, Thank God I’m here with my best friend!  What if this was a date?  Can you imagine the look of horror on the poor guy’s face as he watched me go up in flames?  How fast would the guy run from the restaurant if he saw me melting into a puddle of sweat?  So attractive.

When the waiter came back, we ordered a bottle of Roditis.  Wine tends to make me flush, but I figured since I was already having a hot flash, I might as well drink up.  With any luck, I’d pass out and not remember spontaneously combusting in the restaurant.

A little later, the waiter returned with the saganaki we ordered.  He poured brandy over the cheese and instead of lighting it on fire, he leaned the plate toward me so the heat radiating from my body would ignite our appetizer.  Opa!  We ordered our dinner and when the waiter tried to take my menu away, I bit his hand.  What can I say?  I needed that menu-fan!  It was the only thing keeping my body temperature under 200 degrees.  “Um, sorry.  Can I keep this please?  I’m a little hot,” I stammered.  He gave me a look of disgust and walked off.

For the next ten minutes, I alternated between taking bites of saganaki and pressing my water glass to my wrists, my forehead, and the back of my neck until my body heat melted the ice.

Our waiter delivered our entrees and inquired if we needed anything else.  I asked, “Could I go stand in the refrigerator for a few minutes?”

He eyed me for a minute.  Then, with a look of barely concealed revulsion, turned on his heel and left.  In all that time, I still hadn’t been able to cool down, so I rumaged in my purse until I found a clip and hastily threw my carefully styled hair into a knot on top of my head to get it off my neck.  It didn’t offer much of a respite.

“The mousaka tastes a little salty tonight,”  I observed.  I poked at the casserole with my fork as, out of the corner of my eye, I watched a bead a of sweat trail down my face, finally splashing into the bechamel sauce covering my eggplant.  Hmmm, maybe that’s why.

“That’s it!”  I complained, excusing mysef from the table.  I stood up and came to the horrified realization that my clothes were stuck to me.  “Oh my gosh!”  I gave Jen a frantic look.  “Do I have butt sweat?” I asked desperately.  She eyed me carefully and assured me there were no sweat marks on my pants, so I quickly walked to the bathroom.

I eyed the toilet and contemplated peeling my clothes off and diving in.  Hey, don’t judge!  For those of you who have been here, you understand the desperation that comes with a hot flash that lasts forever (in a public place, no less)!  Instead, I spritzed myself all over with body spray, put a wad of toilet paper soaked in cold water on the back of my neck and stood at the sink with my hands in the cold water for as long as I dared leave my friend alone at our table.

That should do the trick, I thought.  But alas, when I returned to my friend and my lukewarm mousaka, I was deflated to realize I was still flushed.  When the waiter asked if we wanted coffee or dessert, I gave up.  “What the heck?  Sure, I’ll take a cup of coffee.  It’s not like I can get any hotter at this point.  Oh, and I’ll take the bill, a shower, and a fresh set of clothes too.  Thanks.”

At this point, our waiter informed us that he was transferring our table to someone else.

When I asked my doctor if menopause would come early for me since I started with the joy of hot flashes a couple years ago at the ripe old age of 40, she informed me, “No, it probably just means you’re in for a long haul.”

I hate her.

And that is reason number 239 why I can never go on a date.

Friday, June 22, 2012

A Day at the Museum

My kids and I went to the Museum of Science and Industry in Chicago this week. This is one of our favorite museums because it’s FILLED with hands-on exhibits. My kids never say, “I’m bored. Can we leave yet?” when we’re there. Usually, it’s more like, “Just five more minutes, Mom? This is fun!” You could spend an entire day at the Museum of Science and Industry and not cover everything (although the museum isn’t so huge that you’d walk away feeling like you’d hardly made a dent).

You can see pictures from our day at the museum here!

Wednesday, June 20, 2012

Summer Brain Games

My kids and I went to the Museum of Science and Industry in Chicago this week.  This is one of our favorite museums because it's FILLED with hands-on exhibits.  My kids never say, "I'm bored.  Can we leave yet?" when we're there.  Usually, it's more like, "Just five more minutes, Mom?  This is fun!"  You could spend an entire day at the Museum of Science and Industry and not cover everything (although the museum isn't so huge that you'd walk away feeling like you'd hardly made a dent).

If you don't live in Chicagoland, you can still enjoy the museum at home.  The MSI, Chicago is offering the Summer Brain Games, a FREE online activity kit featuring weekly, at-home experiments on summery science themes!  It's free to participate and the experiments use items that are easily and inexpensively purchased, or found around the house.  Kids (and adults) of all ages will love the Summer Brain Games!  I mean, who wouldn't love to build a catapault to use in an extra-fun water balloon fight?  And I can't think of a better way to learn about temperature changes than by making ice cream, can you?

And what a great way to fight the summer brain drain that inevitably affects all kids over the summer?  You know what I'm talking about - your kids' brains turn to pudding as they forget everything they learned in school throughout the year.  And let's not forget about the "I'm bored"s that set in during the summer.  The Summer Brain Games are a great way to combat that with fun and engaging information about science that's around us all summer -and year- long.  Why do cans of regular pop sink in the cooler while diet pop floats?  What's happening when a beam of light bounces off certain objects and not others?

The program just kicked off Monday, June 18 so you can sign up now!  Just go to to register!  Families who register to be "Summer Brainiacs" will receive a voucher good for a FREE general admission ticket to MSI.  Participants will get weekly emails with tips on each experiment and additional ways to play with science this summer.  And each week, one lucky winner will receive a family membership to MSI for a year of hands-on science fun!  Participants will also be invited to share their Summer Brain Games experiences with photos and essays about what they learned for a chance to win a tech package - a notebook computer, iPad and digital camera! How cool is that?!

You Can't go Back

For those of you who don’t know, my kids and I moved from Chicagoland to Florida last June. We’ve been living and working and going to school there for a year. One whole year! We’ve made a new life there. Now we’re back in Chicagoland for a couple weeks to visit friends and family. While we’re here, we are staying in our old house that hasn’t yet sold. Why not, right? I mean, it’s ideal! I don’t have to pay for a hotel (which I couldn’t begin to afford), and we don’t have to put anyone out by taking up residence with them. Plus, we’re right by all our friends and the kids can walk to their buddies’ houses.

I figured we’d pack air mattresses and a few things we’d need and we’d stay in a basically empty house. My friend Eric had other things in mind. He moved furniture into every room! I mean mattresses, a sofa bed, chairs, TVS, dvd players, vhs players, boxes of tapes, a kitchen table and chairs, camping chairs, a fire pit, a coffee maker, toaster, etc. My friend Janice spent hours cleaning my house to get it ready for us. Eric extracted the carpet six times because I had a tenant for a couple months this winter whose dog stunk up the place. My friends Eric, Janice, and Doreen, and my parents made sure we had food and supplies already stocked so we didn’t need to think about a thing. What kind of people go to all that trouble?! I have THE. BEST. FRIENDS. In the world.

But here’s the thing: It feels like we still live here. None of us can remember the past year in Florida. It feels like we were only in Florida for a couple weeks on vacation and now we’re back home. It’s the weirdest feeling. I’m afraid I’m going to have a hard time dragging some of my kids back to Florida when our vacation is over because they feel like they live here once again. I just know it’s going to be hard for them and I think it’s going to feel like they’re moving and grieving the loss all over again. As much as we’re all enjoying seeing everyone and catching up with our friends, I’m beginning to wonder if we should have waited a little longer before returning for a visit. Does anyone have experience with this? Have you gone back to visit old homes only to feel like you never left?

I guess we’ll see how it goes. In the meantime, it is so wonderful to visit favorite places – downtown Chicago, museums, Lou Malnati’s, Portillos, Greektown, and Jarosch to name a few. And it’s absolutely wonderful to see and catch up with my friends and family.

Sunday, June 17, 2012

When Your Kids Act Like Freaks...(Grab Your Camera so you Have Material for Their Wedding Videos)

I was going through some pictures the other day. I really love looking at old photos! When my kids were younger, they looked a lot alike. In fact, I have a hard time telling them apart in old photographs. I usually have to use context clues to figure out who is in the picture. Hmmmm, the wall is green in this picture so it can’t be Brooklyn because we’d painted over that wall when she was born. There are sports curtains in the room, so this can’t be Austin. Maybe it’s Clay? As I was flipping through pictures, trying to figure out who was who, I noticed that I have a lot (and I mean A LOT) of pictures of my kids looking like freaks.


Saturday, June 16, 2012

When Zombies Attack

The kids and I loaded up the van and hit the road for Chicagoland. You want a good way to really get to know the people around you? Drive for eighteen hours with them! You'll learn more than you ever thought possible. You'll probably learn more than you ever really wanted to know. I wonder if, one day, my kids will look back on these road trips fondly, or if they'll refuse to go anywhere with their own kids when they're adults because they're so badly scarred from these vacations.

Will they remember our discussions on how to survive a zombie apocalypse, or will they recall how their brother turned our car into a gas chamber? Will they reminisce about the fun sights along the route, or will they only remember the onion rings that somehow got lost in the back of the van for weeks until the stench could have killed an elephant? Will they remember singing along to the radio or stopping at a hotel for the night? Or will they be haunted by the memory of having to “hold it” until the next rest stop because their mom was on a mission to make it to Nashville before sundown?

I’m doing what I can to ensure they remember the good parts. The kids and I videotaped frequently during our trip. By replaying the video, we can remember, share laughs, and relive those good times. This particular video, filmed with my cute little Sony Handycam, is from when Austin and Savannah were discussing how to survive a zombie apocalypse. It’s um, enlightening.  Who knew fishing poles and treadmills were the best way to stave off a zombie attack?

Want to capture your own family memories on video? We’re giving away two Sony Handycams! To enter for a chance to win, simply comment on any Sony-sponsored post (including this one) with an answer to the following question: what’s your favorite family memory? Contest runs through 11:59 p.m. EDT on September 30th, 2012, and you may enter once per post. Contest is open to U.S. residents only.
Want a chance to win weekly prizes like a Sony Handycam or a $200 Disney shopping card? Enter to win here!
A big thanks to Sony for sponsoring this campaign. Click here to see more of the discussion.


Thursday, June 14, 2012

My Kind of Town, Chicago Is . . .

When I was house-hunting in Florida last May, my realtor drove me past downtown Orlando. I asked him, “So this is where all the restaurants, museums, and theaters are?” He laughed at me. Orlando is not exactly a cultural mecca. Theme park capital of the world? Yes. Enriching civilization? Notsomuch. Over the past year, I’ve found myself missing Chicago.

There’s just something about Chicago.  I love this city!  Having six kids, I wouldn’t really want to live IN the city (and I loathe the winters here), but I always loved having Chicago close by so we could take advantage of all it has to offer.  As much as I love Florida, I do miss that.

Today, the kids and I paid our favorite city a little visit, and as usual, the city did not disappoint. We started our trip with a short ride on the L into the city. Leaving the blue line at Washington, we walked over to Millennium Park where we grabbed some hotdogs for lunch . . .

125 My Kind of Town, Chicago Is . . .
Now THIS is a hotdog!
I can't even find Vienna Beef dogs in Florida! You need the Vienna Beef dogs with the steamed poppy seed buns and all the fixins for it to be a REAL hotdog!
thumbs 125 My Kind of Town, Chicago Is . . .
thumbs 095 My Kind of Town, Chicago Is . . .
thumbs 112 My Kind of Town, Chicago Is . . .
thumbs 131 My Kind of Town, Chicago Is . . .
thumbs 136 My Kind of Town, Chicago Is . . .
thumbs 147 My Kind of Town, Chicago Is . . .
thumbs 178b My Kind of Town, Chicago Is . . .
thumbs 201 My Kind of Town, Chicago Is . . .
thumbs 207 My Kind of Town, Chicago Is . . .
thumbs 217b My Kind of Town, Chicago Is . . .
thumbs 231b My Kind of Town, Chicago Is . . .
thumbs 234b My Kind of Town, Chicago Is . . .

thumbs 269b My Kind of Town, Chicago Is . . .


Wednesday, June 6, 2012

Double Time

I almost never do book reviews because A)  I rarely have time to read, and B)  I'm afraid I might hate the book and then what do I do?  Lie and say it's fabulous?  Tell the truth and say I hated it?  As a writer myself, I cannot bring myself to say anything bad about a book, especially one written by someone I know.  Sooo, I choose to avoid the whole thing by simply shying away from book reviews altogether.

But when my friend and fellow blogger over at Babble, Jane Roper asked if I wanted to read a copy of her new book, Double Time, I jumped at the chance.  I love books about pregnancy and babies.  I think most moms like reading about/hearing other moms' stories of pregnancy and childbirth, and raising little ones.  It's always great to know you're not alone.  It's comforting to hear how other moms cope with the struggles of childrearing.  And then there's the fact that I really like Jane!

Jane doesn't disappoint with her book! It's a humorous look at being pregnant with and raising twins.  Sure, there are books out there about having twins, but Jane's is a personal account of what it's really like.  And it's not just about having twins, but also about dealing with post partum depression.  Reading Jane's book is like sitting down and chatting with a good friend over coffee.

As her website describes:

When Jane Roper found out she was pregnant with twins, she searched high and low for a memoir of the first years with multiples, but came up empty-handed. Four years later, she wrote the book she wished she’d had as a new mother of twins. Double Time is an entertaining, up-close and very personal look at Jane Roper’s first three years raising twin daughters. From trying to get pregnant to processing the idea of twins, from round the clock feedings and diaper changes to the joy of watching “twinteractions” between her girls as their (very different!) personalities emerge, Jane tells all. Meanwhile, she struggles to keep a history of depression under control—and find answers when her symptoms get worse. All this while falling steadily in love with her duo as they grow from sleepy newborns to mischievous toddlers with a penchant for potty talk.

Full of warmth, honesty, occasional advice, and more than a little humor, Double Time is a smart and engaging account of the first three years with multiples, as well as a refreshingly candid and vulnerable look at parenting, clinical depression, and the quest for work-family balance. It’s Jane Roper’s story, but it’s one that will resonate with countless women—especially those parenting in double time.

I have a copy of Jane's new book, Double Time, to give away to one lucky reader.  Just leave me a comment here and I'll choose a random winner on Monday.  Good luck!  And you can get your own copy HERE!

Always Behind the Eight Ball

I feel like I'm always behind the eight ball. Not only will I never get ahead, but I'm destined to remain behind, never quite able to keep up with everything. Most days, I make the best of what I've got. I don't sweat the small stuff, the stuff over which I have no control. Most days, I can find something to laugh about. Most days, I don't feel like crawling into bed, pulling the covers over my head, and staying there indefinitely. Most days.

And then there are days like today.

“Mom, the honor roll breakfast starts at 7:30.  Are you almost ready?” Clay asked, worried that he was going miss his celebration.

“I’m going as fast as I can!” I snapped, grabbing my shoes and purse as I headed out the door.

As I sped down the street toward the school, Lexi complained, “You didn’t get me any snacks to bring to school.  I was supposed to bring in snacks for the party today.”

“Lexi, you need to tell me these things before we’re leaving for school!” I barked at her.

“I did!” she insisted.  “I told you yesterday.”

“Well, I suck!  I’m sorry, but I didn’t hear you.  Tell your teacher that your mom sucks,” I said in exasperation, starting to break down.

As I pulled up to the school, I noted that there were no parking spaces left.  Way to go, I told myself.  That’s what you get for being late, Dawn. I dropped off the kids and apologized to Clay, telling him I wouldn’t be able to come in for the honor roll breakfast because I had to drop off my car at the shop and get to work on time.  It had nothing to do with the fact that I couldn’t stop the tears that have been at the surface for days now.  It was the first time I can remember that I’ve ever missed any kind of special event for any of my kids.  Yep, Mother-of-the-Year right here.  Again.

I drove to the mechanic, feeling like crap for dropping the ball, upset that I might end up missing a day of work, and worried about what the mechanic would find when he looked at my car.  I knew I’d probably be sitting at the shop all day and figured I could at least work on some blog posts while I was there.  But did I remember to bring my computer as I was running out the door this morning?  No, of course not.

Then I got the news.  I can’t drive all the way to Chicago without fixing my car.  I hate to put more money into my car.  I don’t have any other choice.  Irony:  Needing your car fixed in order to drive it across the country, but spending the money on repairs makes it impossible to afford the trip.  Now, include the fact that I won’t be getting a paycheck for three months.  Yeah.  I’ve picked up some more writing gigs, but still . . .  It’s tough.

Sometimes it just feels like I’ll never be able to handle everything.  I’ll never be able to stay on top of things and take care of everything that needs to be taken care of.  I’ll never have enough resources to be able to keep up.  I know, I KNOW, that most of the world is in a worse position than I’m in.  I know I should be thankful for all that I have.  And I am.  I really am!  There are just those occasional days where I can’t help but wallow in self-pity.  And I don’t want or need anyone to fix things for me.  I don’t want or need anyone to solve my problems.  I just want to vent and have someone say, “Yeah, I hear ya.  Sometimes it just sucks.”  ‘Cause, you know what?  Sometimes it does suck.

Tuesday, June 5, 2012

The Birth of a Blog Post

Now and then people ask me, "Dawn, you 
amazing blogger, you, how do you come up with your ideas for posts? Your blog entries are always so witty, intelligent, well thought-out, and simply brilliant." (I may have taken a little liberty with that quote.) Well, my most loyal readers, today is your lucky day! I'm about to let you in on the secret of my blogging awesomeness.

The Birth of a Blog Post

I sit down at my computer and immediately head over to Facebook. (All the best blog posts start with a healthy dose of procrastination.) After reading comments and checking out some of my friends’ pages, I decide it’s time to work. Blog, blog, blog, what should I blog about? I stare blankly at my screen until I notice the young man smiling at me from the ‘meet singles in your area’ ad on the sidebar of my screen. I strike up a conversation with him.

“What are you looking at with your bleached teeth and perfectly moussed hair? I bet you think you’re pretty hot, don’t you? Well, you are. But I bet you don’t know the difference between lose and loose. And you probably spell the word definitely like definately, or even worse, defiantly. Or maybe you have a goofy laugh. Or your pores are too big. Or you wear a dorky vest when you ride your motorcycle. Or you have a dozen pictures of your dog, the sunset, the fish you caught, and your car on your profile. Or your voice is too high. Or your fingers are too short. Or you sip girly drinks from a straw. Or you live in your mom’s basement. Or you’re a mouth breather. Really, give me a minute and I’ll find something wrong with you. What’s that? No, I am not neurotic; I’m discerning. There’s a difference. Discerning is perfectly normal. Yeah, so maybe I will die alone. What’s your point? It’s better than listening to someone breathe through his mouth for the rest of my life.”

At this point, I realize that arguing with a picture of a random guy on my computer may indicate that I’m not only neurotic, but I may have a more serious psychosis. I get up and walk into my kitchen to see if any chocolate has materialized since I checked ten minutes ago. Seeing none, I grab a slice of cheese and sit back down to write. I briefly consider the diet in the movie The Devil Wears Prada. “See, I’m on this new diet. I don’t eat anything. And right before I feel like I’m going to faint, I eat a cube of cheese.” I don’t think I could live on cheese. Bread maybe. Wine perhaps. Chocolate definitely.

Okay, it’s time to get serious. I click the new post tab and open a fresh, blank page that stares up at me, awaiting a string of words that will enthrall and entertain the masses. I start thinking about the book I want to write this summer. There’s a scene with a car wreck and I realize that I’ll need to research how rescue workers would respond to such a scene. I may have to stop by a fire department and ask the guys if anyone would be willing to answer some questions. You know, for research. It has nothing to do with my obsession for hero-type guys in turnout gear. It’s purely academic. I drift off and create a scenario in my head of my little visit to the firehouse. I can see the whole scene in great detail.  Just as things were starting to get good (we’re talking fire hoses here), the kids start running through the house like baboons on crack.  I’m brought back to the task at hand.  But not before checking my email. And dosing the kids with Benedryl.

Done checking email, I click back over to my blog. I stare at the page for a minute before I’m distracted by the Big Bang Theory that Jackson’s watching on TV. I commit to pay my teacher friends a visit tomorrow by knocking on their doors. Knock, knock, knock, Marcy. Knock, knock, knock, Marcy. Knock, knock, knock, Marcy. I wonder why I feel the need to make myself into the school freak, but I quickly banish the notion, convincing myself that eccentric behavior is interesting, not freakish.

When a commercial comes on, I walk to the kitchen to check for chocolate again. Finding none, I grab a handful of pretzels and return to my computer and the blank page. Hmmm, what should I write? I grab my phone and text Austin who is upstairs. “Write me a blog post,” I demand. He texts back, “Opening line. What if birds could fly? Boom!” I reconsider my idea to have Austin write a post. But while I have my phone in my hand, I open my solitaire app and play a couple games. Putting down my phone, I stare at the blank screen for a few more minutes. Nothing. I get up to fold some laundry because it’s perfectly excusable to procrastinate if you’re doing something useful.

After starting another load of laundry, I walk back through the kitchen on the way to my computer. I search for chocolate yet again. We don’t even have hot chocolate. Why isn’t there any hot chocolate in the house? It may average 250 degrees every day here in Florida, but that’s no reason not to have any hot chocolate on hand. I grab a stupid apple and sit back down. I check Facebook. I check email. I notice a thread of emails generated from the other Babble bloggers. I’m reminded once again of how I don’t fit in with these guys. They’re all educated, informed, and intelligent. I never have anything pertinent and non-stupid to add to the conversation.  Point in case – I just used “non-stupid” as a word.  I’m the resident dork who writes nonsense. Well, on a good day, I write nonsense. Other days, apparently, I just stare at a blank screen and think nonsense to myself.

After some more email, a final quest for chocolate (I give up and pour myself a glass of wine instead), and another episode of Big Bang Theory wherein I start thinking that Leonard is kinda cute (which I find deeply disturbing), I close my laptop and trudge up the stairs to bed. It’s been another productive evening in Dawn’s world.

Friday, June 1, 2012

No Cookies? No Large Soft Drinks? What's This World Coming To?

A couple days ago, I posted to my Facebook 
wall, I can’t get a stinkin’ cookie at lunch anymore?! Thank you, Mrs. Obama! This started a debate of epic proportions wherein perfectly nice, sane women started finger-pointing, name-calling, questioning each other’s parenting abilities, and trying to “one-up” each other on the quality of the lunches they pack for their kids. I didn’t need to read all that! I was mostly kidding around; all I wanted was a freaking cookie!

Now today, I read that the New York Health Department is trying to ban large soft drinks from being served in local restaurants.  For real?

Now, I’m all for healthier options being offered at restaurants and schools, but give me a break!  I don’t believe America’s obesity problem is a result of chocolate chip cookies being offered in school cafeterias.  If a kid has three meals and one snack a day that’s 1460 times they eat every year.  Only about 180 of those are eaten at school.  Do you really think eliminating cookies for those 180 meals is going to make kids healthy and thin???  I don’t think banning large sized pop at restaurants is going to make us a skinny nation either.  People simply need to make wise decisions, control portions, make healthier choices, and use moderation.  And it needs to start at home.  I don’t know about you, but I would seriously resent being told what I can and cannot order when I’m out to eat.  If I want a large Diet Coke with my meal, I should be able to order one.  Heck, if I want a large regular Coke, I should be able to get it.  People know how much sugar and calories are in drinks.  We’re not stupid.  If we want to spend our daily calories on pop, we should be able to do just that.

I’m sure the government is merely concerned about Joe Citizen’s health, and it has nothing to do with money.  The Rice Krispie treats, bags of chips, donuts, and other less-than-healthy fare that are still offered at school apparently can’t make you as fat as a chocolate chip cookie.  And if the government’s so all-fired concerned about our health, why are cigarettes still available to the public?  A person is able to determine whether cigarettes are a good choice for them, but they can’t decide if they should order a large soft drink so that option has to be completely removed?  I say the whole thing is idiotic, but that’s just my opinion.  What’s your take on it?

Who's Visiting My Blog Right Now?

Home About Dawn Blog Books News & Events Press Kit Contact

Dawn Meehan 2008-. All Rights Reserved.
Site Design by Jones House Creative