Tuesday, January 22, 2013

I could care less about cycling.  I never watched a race.  I never knew what was involved in competitive bike riding.  And, truth be told, until those yellow Livestrong bracelets made their debut, I didn't know anything about Lance Armstrong. 

But, like the rest of America, I tuned in to OWN to watch the two-part interview with the most despicable man in the world 7 time ex-champion.  And by listening to Lance, I learned a lot about lying and cheating and bullying.  Oh yeah, and a ton about doping. 

Little did I know that my 27 month old cancer patient could kick Lance's a$$ any day.  In fact, tomorrow, if counts are high, Ari continues his two year long...

Tour de FrANCe! 

That's right.  And he has his own legal winning cocktail.  Blood transfusions - check.  EPO-like cell producing meds - check.  Steroids - check.  Just as Lance articulately described, it is vital for Ari to take all these drugs in order to beat those pesky foreigners invading his turf.  Winning is his only option.

And Ari's doping regimen, as I often describe, makes him, well, how do I say this nicely... mean, angry, unhappy, cranky, uncomfortable, and an all around asshole.  Luckily it only lasts 7 days at a time. 

But it begs the question...

Is Lance Armstrong still doping?


the size of a small chicken. or preemie.

Wednesday, January 9, 2013

There are some things I simply can't prevent.  They must be genetic.

Like, for example, Ari's appreciation of bathroom humor.  Or his ability to collect a whole lot of crap.  And now, his potty mouth.

Uh, hmm, yeah.  Really, I'm not proud of this.

In other news, Ari gained 4 pounds in exactly 1 week.

His steroid induced appetite this week consisted of edamame and white spiral pasta which he carefully removed from the Trader Joes Mediterranean Pasta Salad.  (The chick peas, tomatoes, cucumbers, and parsley remained untouched.)  In total (but still counting), he ate 11 bags of edamame and 13 packages of pasta.  He supplemented his soy and carb diet with 3 1/2 gallons of whole milk, 4 avocado sushi rolls, and 12 cups of popcorn.

Mighty impressive don't you think?

The good news is Ari gained a lot of weight!

The bad news is... so did I!



Wicked smaht

Wednesday, January 2, 2013

I really hate to brag.

But I need to publicly announce a very important fact.  You see, I've secretly thought this for quite some time.  And this afternoon, it was proven to be true.  Ok.  Ready?

My child is a genius!

I kid you not.  He is exactly 2.15 years old and he can identify all 26 letters.  He even understands the difference between lowercase and uppercase letters.  He can spell his name.  He can sound out words.  He can differentiate between letters and numbers.  And he has a freakishly remarkable memory. 

But today I was truly blown away.

Because he potty trained himself.

Now, I gotta tell you that for 32 years I've heard tales of another genius toddler (uh huh...yours truly) who supposedly potty trained herself.  "No buy more diapers" she told her mother at the grocery store.  "How will you tinkle?" the mother asked.  "Tinkle in the toilet" she replied.  And from that day forth, she never wore a diaper and never had an accident.

I used to think this was bullsh*t exaggeration.  (Even if it was about me.)  But today, after returning home from receiving a boatload of chemo, Ari looked at me and said, "Ari poopie in potty."  Surprised, since there's been not one ounce of potty training under this roof, I asked Ari for clarification.  "Do you want to make a poopie in your diaper?" and he emphatically responded, "No, Ari poopie in the potty."  So, I quickly pulled off the Pampers, plopped him on the toilet, and waited for a false alarm.

And then, just like that, he pooped.  Twice.

He wiped, washed his hands, and we (both) celebrated with chocolate chips.  Then, approximately 10 seconds before I put on a clean diaper, he peed on the floor. 

So maybe he's not fully potty trained.  But still, way to go Ari.  You continue to surprise me and impress me and make me so incredibly proud.

You wicked pissah!


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