Yesterday was my birthday. I’m 35. Thought I’d have my life figured out by now…, but I haven’t. Still trying to decide what to do with the rest of it. Had the day off from work; have today off too. What to do? My upstairs bathroom sink drain had been clogged for a couple of days and it needed to be snaked – chemicals weren’t working. I knew the job was going to be disgusting, and it needed to be done, but I just couldn’t do it on my birthday. I couldn’t stand the thought of someone calling me to wish me a happy birthday, then ask what I’m doing with my day off, only to have me tell them I’m snaking my sink. How sad. So I did it today. Got a few of those other little nagging jobs out of the way too. I feel pretty good about that. Knocking those little things off your list always makes you feel like you’ve accomplished a lot, even if they’re only one or two little projects. Those kinds of things bother me – they stick in my brain and haunt my dreams (okay…, so maybe I’m exaggerating a little). I use them, however, to put off figuring out the big projects – like what to do with the rest of my life.

My sister-in-law got married this weekend. It was a true family affair – my wife was the matron of honor, my daughters were flower girls and I was the photographer! It was tought juggling all those responsibilities, but me managed. Poor Quinn, however…, I think we talked about the wedding so much that she got a little nervous. Just as we got to the church, before she had to walk down the aisle, she threw up. Miraculously, she didn’t get any on herself or on me – I managed to do the jump backward while straddling maneuver to avoid a disaster. Then again, after she and Grace were introduced at the reception as part of the wedding party and she had to walk in front of everyone again, she covers her mouth and we rush her out the door just in time for her to vomit on the hallway floor. Ugh! You would never know it from the photos I took. By the way…, that hot bridesmaid giving the cameraman the look…, that’s my wife!

For those of you running around trying to get your holiday shopping done, here’s an article a friend sent to me that just may help you find the perfect gift for that someone special in your life. Hysterical!

The wife and I went to dinner with friends in New York over the weekend. Know why we have such big smiles on our faces in these photos? No children! I know…, that sounds terrible – but it was the first time we went out without the kids in about a year. Now that I think of it, the last time we went out without them was the previous holiday dinner with this same group of friends. Next year the two of them should be old enough that we’ll take them with us to NYC to see the tree and decorations. That should be cool. For now, the New Haven Christmas tree will have to suffice (it’s actually a very nice tree).

Somewhere along the line, my older daughter learned a song in school about apple pie. It goes something like, “My, my. Me-O-My. How I love that apple pie.” I don’t know if she learned it this year or last year in preschool – doesn’t matter. She sings all the time. Loves to sing. Naturally, my younger daughter picks up on some of these songs and attempts to sing them too. I guess we got kind of silly with this song one day, and “apple pie” started getting replaced with “(fill-in-the-blank) pie.” For example, “My, my. Me-O-My. How I love that stinky pie.” They think that’s hysterical. Here’s another, “My, my. Me-O-My. How I love that coolie pie.” Another classic. Anything associated with their rear-end results in laughter.

So my younger daughter and I are in Old Navy doing some Christmas shopping and she starts singing the song. She fills in the blank, starting with her feet. “My, my. Me-O-My. How I love that foot pie.” We move upward from there. “My, my. Me-O-My. How I love that knee pie.” Then, “My, my. Me-O-My. How I love that tummy pie.” I’m amused. “My, my. Me-O-My. How I love that head pie.” OK. All out of body parts, right? Nope.

“My, my. Me-O-My. How I love that hair pie.” I bust out laughing. This, of course, only make her sign that line over and over, trying to make me keep laughing. “My, my. Me-O-My. How I love that hair pie.” I’m in Old Navy – the only guy, mind you – and my daughter is singing about loving hair pie.

Walking a puppy through the park might score you some chicks. A child singing about “hair pie” – not so much.

Speaking of hair pie…, if you didn’t catch Amy Poehler’s skit on SNL last weekend about Britney Spears galavanting about town with no underpants on, you should check it out.

That’s right…, now my youngest daughter is sick. Today is her second day home from school with what I hope is just a bad cold. She’s much better at being sick than my other daughter in that we don’t have to deal with the DRAMA the other one puts on. When Quinn’s sick, you would think she’s on her last breath – laying on the couch all day unable to get up and get herself a glass of water. Grace just tries to go on with her day as though she were perfectly healthy. She’s more difficult, however, in that she vomits very easily, which goes back to her days when she was dealing with her reflux and was able to vomit on command. When you have a child who needs to eat every three hours to not only grow, but also keep her blood sugar level up, even a run-of-the-mill cold becomes very stressful. Most kids don’t want to eat when they’re sick – which is perfectly normal. You can’t let Grace do that, no matter how much she wants to.

So here we are on the couch again…, watching Peep – the kids’ favorite show. I was hoping to get some Christmas shopping done while they were both in school, but that will have to wait another day or two. I’ve got time. She seems to be doing a little better than yesterday, so maybe we can sneak out for a quick trip to Barnes & Noble?

Don’t ask me why I’m writing about this, but I thought it needed explanation. The “Zoinks!” in my right-hand navigation column…,  why did I name it “Zoinks!?” The simple answer is this – WordPress puts everything in alphabetical order, but I wanted those icons to be at the bottom of that column. I had to choose a “Z” word to get them to go where I wanted. I was a Scooby-Doo fan growing up (incidentally, my wife HATES Scooby-Doo), so that’s the “z” word I settled on.

Now, if you’ll excuse me, it’s time for my morning Scooby Snack. :-)