Awesome - Party of Two

There are some things in this world that just cannot function alone. I mean really, what is peanut butter without jelly? Bill Clinton without Hillary? The Oscars without bad wardrobe selections?

And then there are those things that are nothing short of awesome all by themselves - dogs, E-Trade commercials, Donald Trump's hair.

But what happens if you take two little pieces of awesome and combine them together? Prepare to have your mind blown:
OREO STUFFED CHOCOLATE CHIP COOKIES.

You read that right. Despite the fact that I literally gained 6.4 pounds just looking at that picture I still have the desire to put my kitchen ineptness aside and make an attempt at recreating these little bits of heaven. I figure - even if I screw up the recipe, in the end it's still cookie dough and Oreos. How could I possibly loose?

You know you want some.

Three-Year-Old Humor

It's been a while since I shared some of my 3-year-old daughter's one-liners. Man, this kid is hilarious. Enjoy!

"Oh look! It's just a little poop. I think he's swimming in there! Have fun little fella!"

Lainey: "Mommy, I want to go to the zoo."
Me: "We can't go to the zoo honey, the animals don't come out when there is snow on the ground."
Lainey (after a long pause): "But polar bears like the snow."

"Did you know that 'gracias' means hungry in Chinese?"

Lainey: "Cats have tails."
Me: "Do kids have tails?"
Lainey: "No mom, kids have butts."

"We have to be very very quiet so that we don't wake up the clowns."

"My favorite color is orange and purple. And blue. And red. And this submarine! WEEEE!"

(as she is sitting on the potty) "Ahhhh, this is the life."

(as she is sitting on the potty yet again...seems like she comes up with her best material on the John) "Stay calm mommy, it's just poop."

Speaking of Halftime Shows...

....The Black Eyed Peas? Really?

A) Even if Fergie really could sing - which, given the performance I saw tonight, would be like Steve Buscemi winning a beauty contest - that still wouldn't excuse her outfit. She looked like a robot prostitute from the year 2145.

B) I hope no one watching this had any sort of seizure disorder. The possibility of a wardrobe malfunction was pretty obvious, only this time it would involve electrocution. Luckily, no Peas nor any of their bizarre LightBrite dancers were harmed in the making of this halftime show.

Music aside, the Superbowl commercials still carried their usual amount of entertainment value. My daughter insisted on playing "doctor" and shoving a fake thermometer in my mouth during about half of them, but out of the ones I did see the Best Buy ad was a clear winner. "What's a Bieber?" "I don't know - it kind of looks like a girl." Who knew that a simple commercial could sum up my own feelings so completely? However, Betty White still reigns surpreme in my Unofficial Superbowl Commercial Hall of Fame.

Oh, and also there was some football that was played and someone won and all that, too.

Patience Is a Virtue

Have I ever mentioned that patience is NOT one of my virtues?

Approximately 2.63 light years ago (ok, it *may* have only been 17 days...) we submitted my son's complete medical history - all 124893 pages of it - to a doctor in Chicago. But he isn't just ANY doctor, he is THE doctor. A pediatric cardio-thoracic surgeon that has not only performed operations on patients like Owen, but has gone on to write articles about it. And even though these articles were written in a medical foreign language that required me to Google every other word, in the end we determined that if anyone was going to give us an answer as to whether or not Owen will need this surgery it will be this guy.

But it has been over two weeks and my sanity is running thin. My cell phone has been glued to me, afraid that the mere act of using the bathroom might find me in the middle of wiping when *the* call came in. Toilet flushing in the background = awkward first impression. Numerous times daily I imagine that I hear Men At Work singing "Who Can It Be Now?" - frightening enough by itself - but considering that this is the ring tone on my phone it has become downright haunting. I get a little reprieve on the weekends, because everyone KNOWS that specialists don't work Saturdays or Sundays (or even numbered days...or anytime after 2pm...).

I am a stubborn and impatient redhead, I will not deny that. But when you are waiting for a call that could possibly change the course of your child's life, every moment feels even longer and more agonizing than this year's Superbowl Halftime Show. No matter what the answer is, I just want a call. Just one little call. I'd even settle for a robotic message that simply says "yes" or "no".

Patience is a virtue? Clearly whoever coined that phrase has not dealt with a specialist...