Some questions I have....

I have just two questions:

1. WHY is Desperate Housewives a rerun AGAIN? Do the network execs think we like reruns? In this age of TiVO, I don't need reruns. If I love an episode, I just keep it on my TiVO and watch it 20 times until I feel like deleting it.
2. WHY is the weather so warm in the middle of January, robbing us of any snow days? Hello global warming!

IRL, my DH and DS are my BFF

Some people say that cyber friends are not "real" friends. You can't see them, you can't call them on the phone and you don't know if they are really who they say they are. I suppose that's true. I remember back to the time B. E. (Before Erik) when I dabbled in online dating (don't tell me you haven't perused the personals at least once). Now that was a great lesson in private investigation because you never knew if the person was really tall, dark and handsome. I even googled Erik when we were dating so I could see if he appeared on any wanted lists. Fortunately he didn't, but I was able to find out that his favorite novel was "Great Expectations" -- I promptly purchased the Cliff's Notes so I could talk intelligently on our next date.

Some time ago I started to surf message boards for women with infertility. Since few of my friends in real life understood what I was going through, it was nice to message women who "got it" and were sympathetic to my daily regime of shots, mood swings and hot flashes. Thus began my entrance into "online communities."

After some lurking on boards with names like "Fertility Friends" and "iVillage" I established an identity and made some "friends." I quickly became entwined in al things girly like "blinkies" and "smileys" and "siggys." I wanted a glitter name, too. And why wouldn't my blinkie blink? And could someone make me a "my baby is bilingual" blinkie, please? Erik would laugh at my use of board acronyms like DH (darling husband) and IRL (in real life) and CM (cervical mucus).

So I hung around on the boards for a while until I came across one called "Connected Moms." It's by far the best board I have found and I have made some great cyber friends. I even asked my mother-in-law (MIL), Susan, to knit a hat in support of "Hats for Grace." Grace is the daughter of a gal on the board and Grace is in the midst of chemo to treat cancer. Grace is 4 and has lost all her hair. Heck, Susan's hat is even a board member favorite! But I have also gotten advice on how to make chewy chocolate chip cookies, which digital SLR camera to buy, and why Tom Cruise is a nutjob.

For everyone who thinks cyber friends are goofy and I should stick to my friends IRL.....phooey! How else would I have learned that you should always...well I can't say. But you could find out if you visit Connected Moms' "Naughty Room!"

There's nothing better than licking the bowl.

Don't you just wish that you could eat chocolate chip cookie batter for all three meals? It contains items from almost all the food groups. Although chocolate chip cookies are in that tiny triangle on the food pyramid (you know, the fats you aren't supposed to eat), they sure taste good. But then that's what most of the things in that little bitty food pyramid triangle are -- delicious.

Eli and I went about to make some cookies and had a grand time. He is getting good at pouring and stirring, all the while saying "Poon!" since he is now allowed to have his own spoon for mixing. I can't help but take a few bites of dough here and there. And each time I sneak a bite from the spoon, Eli is in the background saying "mmmm...mmmmmm," the cue that he is jonesing to eat.

In the end, I gave Eli the paddle from my mixer to lick. He loved every minute and kept thrusting the paddle at me for more. Can't get enough of that sweet, chocolatey cookie dough. Like mother, like son.

There is no mistaking: Eli is a Decker

We all know that Eli has that little swirley thing in the back of his head. Dad calls it a "cowlick" and laments about his own swirl. If you google the word "cowlick" you will find that Alfalfa from "Our Gang" has the most famous cowlick. Strictly speaking, a cowlicks occur "when hair forms a pivot that distributes the hair from a specific point around in all different directions." Even supermodel Claudia Schiffer is reported to have two cowlicks. At the moment there is hope for Eli. The barber who cut his cowlick the other day said that hair changes every six years. So when he turns six, it may disappear. Or simply swirl the other way.

So then there's the tongue thing. Eli loves to slide his tongue out of his mouth ever so slightly when he's really thinking or playing hard. His tongue just sits there, between his teeth, causing a look of intense concentration. Sometimes those dang blocks are mighty hard to get on the little pegs and when that's the case, out comes the tongue. It must be genetic. Dad does it. Doug does it. Erik says that when I really think hard, I even do it. Good grief. We all have tongue issues.

Then comes mac and cheese. Eli loves to dip things in ketchup. I mean, the kid would dip a cookie in ketchup if we had it out. So Eli had some mac and cheese with a hotdog. I put a little ketchup on his tray for his hotdog. But what does he do? Put the ketchup on his mac and cheese and munch away. I used to cringe when mom made a steamy, creamy, cheesy batch of real mac and cheese. It tasted so good and the cheese was just right. But then dad would roll in, put a mound of delicious mac and cheese on his plate, and douse that baby with ketchup. Can you say, "Ewwwwwwww!" But somehow over the years, I have softened to the thought of ketchup served with mac and cheese. I guess Eli can eat it all he wants. Or is it that it's much easier to let a toddler pick their own food combinations for fear of the whole tray ending up on the floor?

We already know that Republican roots run deep and trying to break free of such ties is akin to climbing Mt. Everest or retracing Ernest Shackleton's journey to the South Pole. Erik and I are trying to bring Eli up in a democratic household. Some methods are overt, such as the signed photo of Bill Clinton that hangs proudly in the den. Others are rooted in Eli's subconscious. The blue walls in his room. His Democrat onesie. The John Kerry sign that is tucked away in his memento box to signify his birth (which happened the day that Kerry picked Edwards as his running mate). However, we are a little worried our efforts are not working. Why you ask? Well, of all the animal sounds Eli can make, the elephant is the best. He loves elephants. He is obsessed with them. In line at Wendy's on Friday, Eli did his best elephant: Arm thrust high over his head, index finger pointed like a snout, and a resounding "ppppppfffffffffffftttttttttttttt" coming from his mouth. The man next to me in line laughed. In conversation, Erik mentioned elephants to prove a point he was trying to make. Eli burst out with a wonderful impression. Even when waking up, the first thing he does to us is the elephant. We have tried to impress the importance of knowing what a donkey says but he simply won't say, "hee-hawwww!" What are we to do?

And so the search for Decker-isms continues.

I hate doing dishes!

When I do dishes, it's a major production. I have to don my pink Playtex gloves so I won't get a single finger in someone's nasty half-eaten mac and cheese. Next, wet food in the sink is gross. And gross to the power of ten. Then I can't stand all the dishes stacked up all over the place. Then the counter gets wet and there are food particles on the counter. But the worst thing of all -- wet rubber gloves (hehe...I said rubber). The gloves have to drape over the edge of the sink so that the openings are on the outside of the sink. If the openings get on the inside of the sink there is bound to be some water splash that will find its way to the inside and I will get completely grossed out about slimey food water inside my glove. Oh! It's just too much to think about!

Before anyone calls the psychiatrist and asks for some psychtropic meds to cure my obsessive-compulsive disorder, think again. I already know I am bonkers over how to do the dishes. Wouldn't you be if you had to touch some nasty, soggy eggs that had curdled in the bottom of your sink? Ew!

I never though I would.....

...have a son, let alone see his face on a billboard! My sister, Emily, a pediatrican, needed a cute yet cooperative model for her promotional materials. Her new practice was ready to start advertising! Erik and I took Eli to Emily's office and in her exam room we went. After a series of stethescopes, goofy faces by mama and papa, and a couple of tongue depressors, we had a camera full of photos. A couple of weeks later, we got a magnet in the mail from Emily. Cute! It sticks proudly to our fridge.

A week or so ago, Emily calls to inform us that the billboard is up! We promptly get in the car the next day and drive out to the location of the billboard. And I mean, it's wayyyyy out there. Rte 16 must go on for an eternity. But over a hill and into a gulley...there he is! A giant Eli and Emily! Complete with lights! Of course we have to return when we can take photos in the daylight and gawk even more. And for everyone who can't make it all the way to Pataskala, feast your eyes on this little baby!

We would be remiss if we failed to mention that, while pulled over on the side of the road to take in the sheer enormity of the billboard and impending fame, my entire family (minus Erik, Eli and I) was questioned by a State Highway patrolman for parking. I bet he thought he was in for a real treat but alas, dad explained that they were just looking. "Looking at what?" the patrolman asks. "The billboard of my daughter and grandson," dad explains as the flashlight shines into the back seat. As Emily's face is illuminated, the patrolman wishes everyone safe driving and a happy evening.