Down with O.P.P.

Thursday, June 30, 2011

For some time, I've been thinking of sharing Other People's Poop stories.  As PoopMom, I receive at least 1 email or call a week with the dirty details from another mom or dad's sh*tty day.  

Thank you to my friend (and mommy extraordinaire) Katie for sharing this email to her hubbie who is currently in California.  (Katie, next time, I want a picture!)

Dear Husband,

You know how most of the time when you're out of town you miss a snowstorm?  Tonight you missed a shitstorm.

While I was drawing the bath and Walt was chilling in the nude on a blanket on the floor, he pooped.  Not just a little, a lot.  Off and on for ten minutes.  Just when I thought he was done, a new push came.  It was like the Play-Doh Fun Factory.  It took approximately five cloth diapers and a small army of wipes to contain.  I released a similarly colorful string of obscenities.

You'll be happy to know he has very good form, and didn't stick his hands in it.

I'm never using a cookie press again.

Please come home soon.

Your Wife

Thanks Katie.  I smell feel your pain.

If you would like to share your own story of woe crap, please drop me an email with a well-written (and hopefully humorous) narration of said poop. 



Tuesday, June 28, 2011

Why didn't I come up with the "100 calorie pack"?  The concept is brilliant.  Almost anything can be portioned into 100 calorie packages and those of us who are suckers on-the-go and short-on-time buy into the marketing gimmick.  I love that I can eat 100 calories of hydrogenated fats or high fructose corn syrup and not feel full guilty afterwards.   I can even eat 4 or 5 packs and it doesn't matter because they're only 100 calories!!  (Right?!)

But a BIG thank you to Gerber and my ovaries for exposing me to the most amazing 100 calorie pack ever!

Move over cheerios, let me introduce you to the magical, the wonderful, the downright addictive...PUFF.

These little crunchy gems are sugary sweet, provide Vitamin E and Zinc, and are melt in your mouth amazing.  They come in a variety of flavors and are bargain-priced at about $2 bucks per package.  Aside from the fact that Ari looooves them, and could eat and eat and eat them (you do what you gotta do when it's raining out), they have only 25 calories per 73 puffs!  That's 292 puffs in a 100 calorie pack!

Take your pick:
12 tiny cookies 

18 cardboard-tasting "cheez-its" (the 100 calorie pack version is not the same as the full fat ones)

1 jello pudding snack


almost 300 Puffs!

One for the baby.  One for the mommy.  One for the baby.  One for the mommy.  Repeat.

I carry a container of these little morsels everywhere I go.  I am going to try these with milk in the morning and as crunchy breading on fish or chicken in the evening.  I will have a bikini bod in no time.


I'm pooped

Monday, June 27, 2011

One of the worst pieces of advice I was given (by multiple people) before Ari was born was to "sleep when the baby sleeps."  There are so many things that prohibit this ideal-sounding suggestion.  Aside from baby nap time being the only time I can do laundry, clean up, bathe, and shop online cook, I've never been able to shut my eyes and just fall asleep when Ari's lids close.  It may have something to do with the 12 16 24 oz of java my body needs every morning to function or my desire to bang out a blog post for the thousands hundreds tens of readers out there.  Either way, I've tried, and it takes me 45 minutes to get comfy, 45 minutes to stop thinking about all of the stuff I should/could be doing, and then the second I fall asleep, I hear the waa waa waa of my waking baby. 

Thanks to teething, the past 11 nights (but who's counting?) haven't been as restful as they had been and I've been pretty sleepy and groggy during the day.  But yesterday, after a sequence of idiotic events, I realized I really need to catch up on my zzz's.

It started in the morn.  I filled the coffee pot, hit the brew button, and waited patiently as I fed Ari breakfast.  The beep signaled the coffee complete, I grabbed a mug, added 2 splenda packets, a splash of sugar free hazelnut coffeemate, poured, and gulped.  Through the burn of the taste buds, I realized something wasn't right with my a.m. delight.  It took me at least five minutes to comprehend I never added the crack Starbucks Sumatra extra-bold beans to the coffee maker.  I was drinking hot hazelnut-flavored water. 

Around 9am, I dressed myself in a pair of white pants and tank top, and the 3 of us quickly packed up to run errands.  I forgot Aunt Flo (ahem, ladies you know the pesky visitor) was staying with us for a few days and I did not "make her bed" (just go with the metaphor).  Needless to say, Goodwill is getting a donation.

The sun came out and the temperature outside rose and I removed Ari's socks so he wouldn't overheat.  For safe keeping, I stuck them in my bra (I should have stuffed them in my undies), and we went about our day.  We visited friends, ate out for lunch, shopped at Target, and went to the park.  Nobody (thanks honey) pointed out that one grey and green sock was sticking out from my armpit. All day long.

The sun set, Ari went to sleep, and I made the foolish practical decision to go grocery shopping.  I shopped, paid, and walked to my car.  I had my wallet and phone.  But no keys.  I peeked in and around the car.  No keys.  I retraced my steps in the parking lot and in the store.  No keys.  I started to panic.  (What the F is wrong with me?  I had absolutely no memory of locking my car or doing anything with my keys.)  I walked up to the Customer Service desk and sheepishly asked if they had any keys.  "Someone found these by the rotisserie chickens."  I took my keys and red cheeks and drove home.

I did receive some good post-baby sleep advice once.  "Nobody ever died from sleep deprivation." 

It may be true.  But, I still could use a nap.


Free Sh*t Fridays

Friday, June 24, 2011

Do you like free crap?  Me too.

There's a fun new program beginning here at Obsessed with Poop.  Thanks to generous sponsors and local businesses, I will be holding a give-a-way every on many Fridays. 

Here's how you can get free sh*t:  Like the page. Then leave a comment, include your name and email address (or register for disqus commenting and I have access to your email), and say a little prayer.  One random person will be selected to win the free item/s of the week.  The contest will begin Friday mornings around 10am and end the following Friday around 10am. Extra karma is awarded to people who share the page with their friends.

All give-a-ways will be items I use on a regular basis, and/or goods I like, or cool sh*t from places I frequent.  Some weeks will be mom or baby items, Boston-area gift certificates, or other miscellaneous neat stuff.

I'm kicking things off with a Bethenny Frankel/Skinnygirl gift package.  Contents include:

1. A bottle of Skinnygirl Margarita and 4 margarita glasses

Why do I like Skinnygirl Margarita?  Aside from the low caloric content and sweet/sour taste, let's be honest, I love Bethenny.  Drink it over ice (the more ice, the better), and be sure to salt the rim of your glass. 

It's great on a hot day when you're sitting outside with your baby in a bathtub.  Or not.

2. Bethenny's book A Place of Yes: 10 Rules for Getting Everything You Want Out of Life

You too can be a Forbes covergirl, millionaire, chef, and Jill Zarin frenemie.

Contest ends Friday, July 1 at 10:00am.

Good luck!

(If you want to donate an item for Free Sh*t Fridays, drop me an email.)


Who's your Mama?!

Wednesday, June 22, 2011

It's been 7 3/4 months.  31 weeks.  217 days (and 217 not fully rested nights). 

I've washed 500 loads of laundry. 

I've cleaned up 5000 spit-ups. 

I've smelled 1 billion dirty diapers.

And today, Ari let me know how much he appreciates it.

I am giddy with excitement.  Beaming with pride.  Grinning from ear-to-ear.  Ready to conquer the world (or maybe just take a shower.)


Well, after breakfast, I was having a conversation with the little guy.  I asked him:

ME: "Ari, who takes great care of you?  Who do you love?  Who is the best person in the world??":

ARI: (answers 3 times!)

That's ME!!!  


Solid food

Tuesday, June 21, 2011

Introducing solid food has been a really annoying and messy with disgusting poops fun endeavor.  Ari will try anything once.  He is content with most mashed fruits and veggies but he is not a happy camper when I give him cottage cheese or green beans.  His whole little body shivers in disgust when he swallows a curd of cottage cheese.  Come to think of it, so does mine. 

A balanced diet is important to his nutrition and growth so I let him sample items from all 4 food groups.

First, the bread and grain group. Each individual particle in the box at the park is called a sand grain.  And he loves it.  He shovels it in his mouth as fast as he can and even saves a bunch in his diaper for later in the day.  The coarseness feels nice on his swollen gums and the high fiber content beats prunes any day. 

The fruit and veggies group.  There's so much in season right now and everything is sweet and delicious.  Hey kid!  What's the problem?  Don't stick your tongue pickle out at me!

Protein.  His favorite food in this group goes well with his blond hair and blue eyes.  (Get it?)

And finally, we have the group of foods of all the stuff we love but know we shouldn't eat.  There's really no nutritional value and the empty calories do nothing to help my little tyke.  But, a little every day can't hurt him. Right?

Bon appetit!


Most fitting Father's Day card ever

Friday, June 17, 2011

 Dear Matt (& Dads everywhere),


(Play this.  It's worth it, I promise.  Turn your sound up.)

(Full song lyrics can be found here.)

Happy Father's Day Matt.  And, to all the other Dads out there who used to have normal/philosophical/political/sports/religion/work conversations and now talk about baby poo, have a wonderful Father's Day.

(and a big thank you to my incredibly thoughtful friend amy for buying me this card.  they should have them for mother's day.  and birthdays. )


A Letter to Ari's Toothfairy

Wednesday, June 15, 2011

Dear Toothfairy,

My baby is chewing on my shoes, gnawing on my arms, and chomping on his own tongue.  My baby is slobbering like it's his job.  The amount of saliva pouring from his lips could fill a bathtub.  "Drool" doesn't describe it.  "Gush" is more like it.  My baby's nose is running.  And running.  And running.  (And his little tongue is lapping it up.  Gross.)  And most upsetting, my baby's gums hurt!  He is moaning in his sleep and waking up crying.  (Shrieking.)  And the Tylenol takes time to kick-in.

Teething is terrible.

So, Toothfairy, here's what I'm thinking.  It's cool that you visit after a kiddo loses a tooth, but I could use some assistance now.  Word on the street is that teething lasts for two years.  That's 730 nights.  How about we make a deal?  You can come hang out in Ari's room in the middle of the night and soothe him back to sleep when he wakes sobbing, and I will make dinner, do the laundry, and promise not to talk while you watch the Bruins game take care of the under-the-pillow gift-giving when Ari's baby teeth fall out. 

Whaddya say Matt Toothfairy?

(Yeah, so there is one cute thing that comes with all this shit spit.  Ari has learned to blow raspberries.  Check him out!)

Sorry baby, hang in there.  Teething is just a phase.  Only 729 days to go.



Monday, June 13, 2011

Ari's got more rolls than Bertucci's.  His thighs have 3, 1 and 1/2 inch sections of chub, separated by a skin crease, and it makes each upper leg look like a stack of pancakes (or like the legs of someone who eats a lot of pancakes!).  This pic is not my baby, but his bod looks like the "all you can eat" IHOP special.


(Picture courtesy of, many more baby pics located here.)

There's nothing better than a chubby baby, and, like pancakes, my kid is delicious.  But, there's a lot of pressure to be in good shape these days.  (I laughed so hard I peed a little when I saw a clip from this SNL episode on  Baby Spanx.)  So, to prepare for swimsuit season, Ari began a new work out regimen to shed his baby fat.  He even found a baby trainer to give him some tips.  Check him out learning to work his abs with the plank:

  Baby trainer: Lift that butt up!

Baby trainer: Left knee off the ground, legs closer together.

Baby trainer: Almost there. Head down, don't curve your back.

Baby trainer: Perfect. Now hold it for 10...

He'll have washboard abs in no time. 


The Movies - Part 2

Friday, June 10, 2011

We arrived in Brockton 15 minutes before our scheduled 12 Noon call time.  The bright yellow movie directional sign assured us we were in the correct location.

We pulled into the parking lot and a security guard directed us to a space.

We gathered our belongings, followed the signage,

and proceeded to a large white tent set up in the ghetto gorgeous town of Brockton.   

I was excited!  There was a nice breeze, friendly faces, and an incredible buffet of breakfast and lunch foods set up for our taking. 

Bagels, lox, hot dogs, hamburgers, munchies...

fresh fruit and juice squeezers,

hot scrambled eggs and much more from

(That's my father-in-law with lox, grits, and a sweet 80's tie.) 

My excitement quickly dissipated.  The temperature began to rise, the air conditioning broke, and the tent filled up with pathetic professional extras.  Then the waiting began.  Two sweaty hours later, I changed into my awesome 1980's garb (and pantyhose), and made my way through the hair and make-up stations.

 (4 hair stylists and 3 make-up professionals = long waiting time.  And it was in the mid 90's.  Can you say shvitz?)

I'm slightly embarrassed, but here's the final product:

I dig the look of the bun, but am not convinced it's a particularly 80's style.

(At this point, one of the professional extras ran over to me and said, "Hey I worked with you a few weeks ago!  You were a cop, right?"  I should have played along.  Maybe then I could have used the SAG-only restrooms.)

Dressed and camera-ready, we boarded air-conditioned buses (one of the highlights of the day) and made our way to a synagogue in Brockton.  I did not hear the announcement that pictures were forbidden in the temple, but after I took this one, I was immediately reprimanded and told that I could be thrown off set and my camera would be confiscated if I used my phone or camera again.

(Apologies, no more pictures.)

We were ushered into rows, the men were handed yarmulkes and tallit (prayer shawls), and we watched the young Adam Sandler character practice a few prayers at his "Bar Mitzvah."  Listening to a non-Jewish 14-year old boy speak in Hebrew sounds a little like my 7-month old baby having a conversation with himself.  Goo goo ga ga.

And then...Adam Sandler walked in, said hi, gave the boy some tips, and cracked a few jokes.  He looked like, well, himself, but a tad heavier than I expected.  Adam hung out all day, nonchalantly walking through the crowd, and smiling at all of the star effers like myself.  I wanted to approach him and say, "hey Adam, my great Uncle Mel was BFF with your dad" but I decided since nobody else was talking to him, and since I was there to work, I should abandon my pathetic tendencies and just act cool.  I regret it.  (Plus, I'm so not cool.)

It was definitely neat to watch how the scene was filmed, note the incredible number of cameras and crew members, and get a sneak peek at the editing process.  But, I'm pretty sure only the top of my head will be on the big screen and I'm still shocked at the amount of time and money spent on a 30 second movie clip. 

After more sweating and more waiting, we boarded the bus once again, and returned to the tent.  It was now 5:30pm and my courtroom scene was yet to be taped.  I removed my pantyhose, changed back into my street clothing, and darted out of the tent and to the car as quickly as possible. 

Good experience?  Yes.  But, I think I'll keep my day mom job.


The Movies - Part 1

Wednesday, June 8, 2011

(Disclaimer - this post has nothing to do with Ari.  Or poop.  It is all about me.)

I have a new appreciation for the working mom.  I am not at all saying raising a baby 24-7 isn't work, but now that I'm working 1 full day in the office and many additional hours from home, I'm finding it very difficult to find time to blog and jog.  (You're right, I don't jog.  But by jog, I mean, anything other than baby-centered activities.)  Between work and baby, and starring in Adam Sandler's film "I Hate You Dad", my days are jam-packed.

OH did I forget to mention my soon-to-be Oscar-worthy cameo?! 

Right, so I'm not exactly "starring" in the movie.  The accurate role description is "extra" but really, who needs to be so specific?!  Either way, I figured it would be fun to document my big screen adventure. 

Last week, I saw this in my Facebook news feed:

Want to be in the movies? Casting submissions request for new Adam Sandler/Andy Samberg movie!

Do I want to be in the movies?  Hell yeah I do!  Have you met me?  I am obsessed with famous people...even not so famous people.  (I was thrilled to meet Mikey from Orange County Choppers.  I once ran after Julia Roberts on a busy street in NYC.  I waited patiently outside a Gucci store in Vegas for over an hour just to catch a glimpse of Celine Dion.  I jumped out of a moving vehicle on a traffic-y highway in Boston to run to say HI to Steven Tyler when a friend spotted him in a car ahead of us.  Judge me.)

Back to the ad.  I followed the instructions, sent in a current picture and contact info, and two days later, I heard from a Guy (that was his name) with Casting.  They requested I dig through my closet to find "blue collar 80's clothing" to bring with me to Pembroke, MA for a costume fitting (!!!).  I contacted a few friends, collected some items (Thx ML), and made my way to an unmarked office building park.

The warehouse was filled with movie sets, sewing rooms, and rows upon rows of wardrobe racks. 

30 minutes later, I filled out a W4 and was cast in two scenes - 1. a 1980's Bar Mitzvah and 2. a courtroom scene.  They looked through the clothing I had brought with me, dismissed what I thought were great items, and then found the ugliest dress ever for the BM scene (heh).  Unfortunately, it fit like a glove. 

BM is right:

For the second scene, I'm wearing a hot pink knee-length skirt, a bright blue chunky sweater, and black ballet flats.  Hot...or not. 

Tonight, I receive the secret shooting location and time to report to duty Thursday morning.  Based on the movie plot, I do not think I will be in a scene with Adam or Andy, but I do hope to see Susan Sarandon on the stand in the courtroom. 

(It's a great cast.  Adam, Andy, Susan, Leighton Meester, and even Vanilla ice!  He tweeted about his role in the film.)

I will document the day with photos and will write about it Friday morning.  SAG here I come...



Friday, June 3, 2011

I expected a red head.  Worst case scenario, a curly frizzy red head (a la Carrot Top.)  I figured I would have to take my baby to ger his/her hair done at my ethnic salon

Imagine my surprise when, upon arrival, Ari's tresses appeared strawberry blonde and unusally straight, and have continued to lighten and straighten over time.  It's pretty remarkable - my kid's got shiksappeal

Over the last few weeks, Ari's hair has grown and he has developed two fashion-backwards hair-do's (or more appropriately, hair-don'ts).

Hey Ari, the 1980's are calling...and they want their rattail back.

And yo buddy, who do you think you are with those curled bangs? 

I can't help falling in love with you.  (Even though someone needs a haircut.)


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