Fast Food

On Good Morning America today Dr. Oz was interviewed by Diane Sawyer. He performs 300 open heart surgeries a year and believes that the majority of them could be avoided by diet and exercise. One third of Americans are overweight and allowing fast food chains on every corner is a major reason; we make it too easy to eat poorly. Dr. Oz's opinion on the heated health reform is not favorable because seeking how to pay for health care is not a solution. The best solution, according to the doctor, is to make it easier for Americans to become and stay fit. Examples given were safe walking paths and getting a workout some how during working hours.

The segment ended and a McDonald's commercial aired. Seriously? A working mom comes home from work and gets bombarded by her kids the minute she walks in the door. Can you guess what her answer was for a minute to unwind? Yep, she pulled out Happy Meals from her over sized purse.

If you have read Fast Food Nation by Eric Schlosser or seen the movie based on the book and/or watched the documentary Super Size Me you may feel the same way I do about fast food. Don't get me wrong, I'll occasionally visit such establishments (and I have a secret love affair with Chick Fila) but it makes me angry that it is so convenient, so cheap, so bad for our bodies, and so heavily marketed to the most vulnerable.

Anyone with me?

Wishing Well

Saturday Dylan closed his little eyes tightly while rubbing a penny in his right hand and made a wish. He then threw his penny into a wishing well and smiled. I just had to ask him what he wished for to which he replied, "I wished for a playground in my back yard."

By a playground he means a swing set with a slide. Slides are the same to a three year old boy as a recliner is to a 30 year old man-child.

Later that night I got him to repeat his wish to Hubby. He let Dylan know that if he was a good boy Santa may bring him one for Christmas. He thought hard for a few seconds and said, "He can't fit a playground in his bag."

Touche.

She's Crafty

Dylan will be back in preschool soon and I believe we are equally excited. Check out Dylan's red book bag. It was $5 at Walmart and pretty plain. In the craft section I found iron on embroidered patches. Who knew I could be crafty...if one can call ironing crafty.



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When Hubby got home from work tonight he looked at Dylan and said, "Let's go to Cracker Barrel and get pancakes!"

"Yeah! Family date night!" was Dylan's response. He inhaled two large pancakes, a side of bacon, two crackers, and one corn muffin. I am thankful his appetite is back and take full blame for his carb love affair. He learned it by watching me.

Emory has taken to the kazoo. She only knows one pitch so you can imagine how pleasant the noise becomes after the cuteness wears off.

Don't Worry Be Hippy

Recently I attended a Phish concert with Hubby and some friends. Hubby is, well, I'm just gonna say it...he's a full blown band dork. (Maybe he'll miss this post.) He reads message boards, awaits the set list to every show, and has spent numerous conversations with phellow phans about Trey's sobriety and whale calls.

The music was a little more rockin' than expected, which was a nice surprise since Phish tends to slow it down and jam too long for my taste. They played a mean Sloth and Tweezer Reprise (see, the dorkiness is contagious) but my favorite part of the trip was hanging with our buddies and watching hippies.

Spending six hours (12 round trip) on the way to MD with some of our favorite people reminded me why friends are important. I don't remember the last time I went on a similar road trip. We laughed, took bad exits, ate homemade cookies and laughed some more.

Being amongst all that love and peace reminded me of Woodstock. Just kidding, I wasn't around for that but it did remind me of college and discovering Widespread Panic. One hippy politely turned down a bottled water because it wasn't "spring H2O." It was 90 degrees and this man's hair alone could have smothered three bystanders. He was hot and thirsty but couldn't enjoy tap water. Several times throughout the show I suppressed the urge to ask the "not so security" their thoughts on noodle dancing and glow sticks.

Besides needing a nap or coffee instead of that margarita at set break this excursion was a great time. I also gained a few bits of wisdom. Number one, it is o.k. for Phish to be Hubby's obsession and not mine. I can appreciate our differences...I mean, he probably couldn't grasp the magnitude of Edward Cullen, right? Number two, I am no longer in my 20s...maybe in spirit, but definitely not in body nor mind. And most importantly, number three, Fun Gus is not some one's favorite uncle.

I Scream Because of Ice Cream

Monday Dylan, my three year old, had his tonsils and adenoids removed and a tube put in his left ear. Poor little fella has been lethargic, weepy, and down right pissed off. Just now before I made him take a nap he hit me. The fairy god mother in me would have ignored it and let him finish watching Curious George but the real life mom appeared and popped his hiney...twice.

Yesterday his behavior was worse, odd I'd say. He wiped ear goo on the couch after I put in ear drops, clothes-lined his baby sister, spit under the hallway rug, and broke the towel rack in my bathroom by swinging on it.

What in the world?

This is exactly why we cannot give our children ice cream for dinner or let them watch monkey cartoons on a daily basis.