Is that a gun in your pants?

Happy New Year weirdos.
Will, Dexter and I went to the Domincan Republic on New Years Day for a nice week in the sun. Well, the shade really. For those of you who know my little family we are the whitest people around.SOme may even say that we're translucent. My Mom says I'm porcelin and fair, so suck on that. Will and I would come out of the shade at around 3pm. This is the time when the nightwalkers can roam in the sun without fear of complete anihilation. Anyhow, it was an amazing week and the baby loved it. The flight was a bit of a gong show but even more of a gong show was the hour and a half ride out to the resort. Dex had been ok during the flight but now it's like 10pm and he's getting super squirrly. Everyone on the bus is from Toronto and ready to get to the resort. Some skids from Milton have cracked some Canadians, butts behind their ears ready to hoser it up the moment we get to the resort. This crazy Domincan guy is on the microphone (of the greyhound) cracking really dumb jokes like this one: "I hear there's 2 feet of snow in Canada." Then he laughs really uncomfortably loud. That's the joke. Not to mention the sound system is ancient and his voice is really loud and distorted. Now the baby starts wailing. I'm holding him, well trying not to drop him (it was a really bumpy ride) and doing my best to get him to settle down. He's just getting louder and louder and now people around me are craning their necks to see how I'm torturing my baby. Here's the thing. Everyone thinks that if they were in my situation, they would be successful at getting him to calm down. I can see it in their judgemental, sympathetic stares. I'm getting frustrated as the baby is getting louder. Now amateur night at the Apollo says on the mic, "Oh tha' bebe is 'ungry." Thanks Domincan Gilligan. As a matter of fact, the baby isn't hungry but you would probably know better than me right? My blood is starting to boil and I'm getting really stressed out. This super fat guy was sitting next to Will and I can hear him say to Will, "Oh wow, she's getting really stressed out." No shit fatty, this is probably how your heart feels every minute of every day. I turn to Will and say, "I don't know what to do" and I see this sea of faces staring at me. It was like a TV show when they use the effect of peoples heads floating around to show confusion and craziness. I snapped. Now I'm effing crying. The baby is wailing, I'm bawling and fatty is shaking his chins saying, "it's ok! He's just a baby."
I mean, he was right but once the tears started, they were out there. I couldn't take them back. It was like Dexter sensed how crazy I felt because suddenly he stopped crying and passed out. Amazing. This one is short and sweet because I have to go to the airport and pick up the stroller. We left it on the sidewalk when we went to get into the Park and Fly Van. Parents of the year. Here's what's coming up next: I suffer from Tropic Thunder (if you know what I mean) a half mentally retarded security guard gives Dex his gun....twice, and Dex discovers that not everything you put in your mouth tastes like beautiful boobie nectar.

Spoiler Alert: May be Offensive

The weather is getting cooler and we are rapidly approaching hairy leg season. There are pretty much two seasons in my world: smooth leg weather and stubbly leg weather. Who am I kidding, they're stubbly in the summer too. I try, but seriously, every day? Sometimes I wish I was a hippie....or German.
We're getting into fall and Dex is 6 months old and cute levels are reaching an all time high. It's out of control. It's also out of control that I only have 6 months left of maternity leave.Shit. Who's going to watch The Golden Girls at 2:30 in the afternoon now?

Dear people at TV Tropolis,
I'm sorry your ratings are suffering, I had to go back to work.
P.S (Consider showing re-runs of Small Wonder. Vikki was a robot well ahead of her time)

I was in Yorkville not long ago, just wasting time and people watching. I was pushing Dex in his stroller and realized I wasn't the only one. Yorkville is a hot spot for Mom's, baby buggy's congesting the streets, only these aren't the kind of baby buggy's that I have, or my friends have. These are the baby buggy's of the elite or just people who want super expensive baby buggy's. Now I don't dive into swimming pools of money every day so it's hard for me to wrap my head around spending that much money on something so temporary, for someone who really could care less, but I'm trying. To those who have these uber-expensive buggy's, please enlighten me...do they perform felatio? Can they make gelato? Do they play re-runs of Small Wonder? Listen, I know I sound judgemental but I'm trying my best not too because everyone can do whatever they want, with whatever funds they have,I know it's a personal choice. I just want to understand. I like spending money. I like spending $1000 or $1500 on travel, or home improvement or on a couple of sweet call girls and an 8 ball of blow, but I don't get the over-priced buggy. So anyhow, the jokes on me because as I was over analyzing the banality of expensive strollers I was too busy staring at the ladies lunching on the patio of the restaurant I passing, and walked right smack into a parking meter. Let me correct that, I ran the baby, in his stroller, right into a parking meter. Whoops. I let out a slightly hysterical laugh and took my heavily discounted Graco stroller and got the hell out of there.