Wednesday, January 6, 2010

New Year, Same Snood



We're back from Christmas break at Chez Grandparentals in Florida - an experience that I can only describe as - "The Greatest Vacation That Ever Was."

I give most of the credit to my husband, who was all over the Snood while I dangled my tootsies in the hot-tub all day, salty snacks in hand. Honorable mention to my two nieces (aged 10 and 12) who were totally devoted to the kid.

Is there any question greater in this wide world, I ask you, than,

"Can I please change the next diaper?"

ANSWER: No, there is not.

If anyone in the greater Los Angeles area has two children of approximately similar ages who they would like to lend to me for several months, please contact me immediately.

Now that the New Year is upon us, I've decided that it is time for a Short Fat Dictator announcement!


Come May of Twenty-Ten, SFD Headquarters will be moving from a 'double-team' defense to 'man-on-man' as we are due to welcome a SECOND dictator to the brood. At present Snoodie the First is wildly oblivious to this development and continues to happily enjoy his waning days as the King of All He Surveys.

*ANNOUNCEMENT END*

Now that David and I have been cast out of our Floridian paradise we find ourselves trying to adjust to our return to real life. Gone are the rooms filled with helpful family members! Lost are the seemingly endless opportunities for adult conversation! Oh, 5:30pm dinners at an endless array of chain restaurants - - I think I'll miss you most of all! (FUN FACT: the Outback "Bloomin' Onion" contains approximately three days worth of calories and fat -- AND IT IS ONLY YOUR APPETIZER!)


Now, instead of partaking in these simple pleasures, David and I are attempting to restore some equilibrium here at home, a process that involves BOTH trying to reduce our grease intake by approximately 900% AND (perhaps more crucially) attempting to get the Snood back on West Coast time.


Now, I have to say that under normal circumstances, my boy is a championship sleeper. Back when he was little more than 7-weeks old, my sister-in-law came to visit. She took one look at him and announced with a true air of authority:

"That boy's ready to sleep!"

She went on to work her "I am the mother of four - do NOT mess with me" voodoo on him and he's been sleeping beautifully every since...


UNLESS - he has jetlag.

Currently the three-hour time change (East to West Coast) is kicking his mini-behind. David and I have opted for the "cold turkey" approach, which involves keeping him up until his normal 7:30pm bedtime at all costs.

This is how we find ourselves at present living with a two-foot-nine version of Jack Nicholson's character from 'The Shining'.


From the hours of 4 - 7:30pm he wanders with the glassy eyes of a maniac, alternately laughing hysterically and then falling to the floor to wail inconsolably. There seems to be nothing we can do to interrupt this cycle and so we just seek cover and wait for bedtime to come.

Still, it's all a small price to pay for 9 days of relaxation. 9 days in which I consumed roughly six times the number of daily calories any human being needs for survival. 9 days of sleeping until EIGHT A.M. daily. 9 days in which I can count the number of diapers I changed on one hand. Like I said, "The Greatest Vacation That Ever Was".

And to think - there's only three-hundred and fifty six days until I get to do it again!

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