I’ve recently found that some of the best days of the month are when I have appointments….not salon appointments or lunch dates…..doctor’s appointments.

I love them.

Years ago, the idea of sitting for thirty-five minutes in a waiting room would annoy me. Now, if I position myself just right, and if there is an armchair in the room, I can easily catch a nap.  (Not a long one because I wake up as soon as my head does that final drop…. as if my neck is saying, “I give up and I can no longer hold up the head of an unconscious person.”)

But I’m okay with that because I know that a comfy chair is in my future.  You know….dental chair, gynecologist chair, ophthalmologist chair……..

You probably never noticed the chair in your eye doctor’s room.  They are all cushioned up from luxurious footrest to glorious headrest.   And don’t get me started on that gynecologist bed!  Yup……..that room is dreamy to me.  Sure, it’s uncomfortable at times but frankly, sitting in that chair is sometimes the first time my ass has been on solid ground all day or all week.

Last week, my eyes needed to be dilated. The nurse said, “This will take a few minutes.”  I casually replied, “Take your time.”  (To me, that’s the best news I’ve heard all day.) I followed up with,  “Go. See other patients.  Forget about me. You can put those drops in my eyes over and over again. If I don’t wake up while you’re doing it just move my lids up and squeeze.”

Nothing bothers me now.  I take the sleep when I can get it.

Two weeks ago I had two cavities filled and don’t remember a thing.  Next week is my annual pelvic exam.  I can’t wait!  While the other patients gaze nervously around the exam room, I’ll happily glide into that chair and exclaim, “ Take your time. Look around if you need to. I’ve got all the time in the world.”

This is my Valentines card from Jim. Got to love a funny guy!  Happy Valentine’s Day!

Why does it seem like when I go away for a week it takes me two weeks to catch up? My calendar still says “January” and it will until next year because no one in my house knows how to flip the page to February.   Apparently that’s a “mom” job.

Jimmy did a great job while I was gone though. He never complains and he did wash all the clothes so I can’t complain.  Luckily for me, he left the folding for me so during this weekend’s snow storm I’ll be up in my room relaxing, catching up on” Heroes” and folding EVERY freaking piece of laundry in the house.  Ahhh, relaxation. Somehow snow days just don’t seem the same to me as they did when I was a kid.

It’s been a good week though.  My clip from Miss America was seen on TMZ, Jimmy Kimmel, CNN, and Mike and Mike in the Morning (ESPN).  Check out my latest clips from NBC 10. On Wednesday’s show, I was learning how to be a car show presenter and on Thursday I was in search of the best “Mom Car“.

Also, Hybrid Mom Magazine just posted an article I had written for them a while back called “The Top 5 Misconceptions of Motherhood“.

Enjoy your weekend. I will be. Just me, Hiro Nakamora and ten baskets of clothes….a mother’s dream.

Thanks to the Miss America Pageant and Rush Limbaugh you have seen my face on TMZ, TMZ.com and The Jimmy Kimmel Show this week. Here is how it went down…

On the final preliminary night for Miss America I had the idea to have the judges compete for the title of “Best Judge”. I have no good reason except for the fact that I think they look bored a lot and it seemed like a fun idea. So, they compete in interview early in the show and at the end I decided that it would be fun to have them dance. Frankly, I just wanted to see Rush dance but I didn’t think he would without everyone else doing it. SO….Somehow I get Rush Limbaugh to dance the “jersey shore fist pump” dance to Lady Gaga’s “Pokerface” song. It’s pure genius!! You can see me in the clip just screaming a bunch of nonsense because I honestly couldn’t believe he was doing it!

Rush Limbaugh dancing to Lady Gaga\'s \"Pokerface\"

He was a great sport about it and in the end he ended up taking home the title of “Mr New Jersey”. I wanted to give him a trophy so I picked out a Las Vegas mug. Unfortunately, they don’t make mugs that say “Rush” so I told him the closest I could find was one that said “Roy”. He seemed to like it.

Since last Thursday Rush has talked about that night 2 days on his show. Here is a transcript from one of Rush’s show:

“Finally, on Thursday night, Dena Blizzard — who was hilarious — she’s a comedian from New Jersey, was the host of the show on Thursday night. That was not televised, the last night of the preliminaries. She’s just outrageously funny, and she said, “We’re going to do a thing with you judges. We’re going to judge the judges,” and because of my hearing she gave me a little heads-up about what was coming. The other judges didn’t quite know. She said, “It’s going to be a dance thing, that’s all I’m going to tell you.” So we get out there and this is how she described it — and that dance video on YouTube that we’ve put it up at RushLimbaugh.com. That dance video has taken off. The libs are so ticked off about that, that I had fun, that there was no controversy. They are just ticked as hell.

Last night, Jimmy Kimmel talked about the clip and TMZ has been running it as well. What a great week…..
Now, back to the laundry.

I rarely do “sequel” posts but I thought that  “Turd In Her Pocket” left too many people hanging. 

Turns out the story was completely plausible. Just as I thought. But maybe that’s only because I’m a mom.  Here goes:

My sister had taken her son to the store. Of course when they arrived she realized that her son had pooped.  To her frustration, she realized that she didn’t have any diapers with her. She only had to run in the store quickly so she figured she would just scoop out the log with wipes (sorry to be so graphic but you get the drift) and throw it in the trash can outside the store. 

All was well with the plan until she ran into a friend in the parking lot. Not an “I can tell you everything” friend but a “let me pretend I have my life together” friend.  Just as she was trying to pretend she was leading a normal stable life it dawns on her that she has a turd in her pocket. 

In her rush to “get in and get out” of the store she had forgotten the most important part of her excellent plan. The part where she and the turd separate. It was still in her pocket. So now, the entire time they are talking, she is thinking, ” Can she smell the turd in my pocket?”.

It’s moments like this that define motherhood. Because, before having kids,  if you ever had a turd in your pocket you would run, scream, tear off your jacket and get as far away as possible.

But in motherhood…you stand your ground. You ponder what choices you made that brought you to this moment in your life.  But in the end, you just take it in stride. Because right after that embarrassment subsides……you need to figure out what’s for dinner.

My sister e-mailed me today. Normal chat.  She told me how her kids were  doing.  They are five and two. She wrote about when she’s coming to visit again and asked me how my kids were doing. Nothing out of the ordinary.  I figured I would talk to her the next day or so.   Oddly, though, she ended the letter with………….

“Did I mention I carried a turd around in my pocket yesterday?  I’ll tell you about it tomorrow.”

Part of me thought,  “Oh, yeah, turd in the pocket.  Never did it,  but I could see how that might happen.”

Then I thought …….”WHAT????”

When in my life did this become normal chatter? When did that phrase no longer seem odd to me? Somewhere between squeezing my boobs into a  push up bra in college for free beer and my last big night out going food shopping alone, this became part of my every day.

I’m looking forward to the story. I’m sure it will make me smile and cringe at the same time.  I accept that these are the stories of my life…………..but I don’t have to like it.

I’m lying in bed.

Kids are asleep.

Jim passed out hours ago.

The lights are out.

Dogs did their last pee and doors are all shut and locked.  I have finished all my work for the night and I am at peace.  I  brushed my teeth and washed my face with my salicylic acid overnight cleanser to fight my acne (because I’m apparently a 14 year old stuck in a 30 year old body).  I am under no stress. I have four pillows strategically placed around my body (creating a wall between me and Jim) and the only thing standing between me and tomorrow morning is just shutting my eyes.

Ahhhh……..Relaxation…………Silence…………………..And then………………..

SLFUPP.

“What was that?” I thought.

SFYLUPES. “Whose there?”

It takes me a second to contemplate. This sound, it’s gross. I can’t even spell it right. But in the dark of night it becomes clear. This is possibly the worst sound in the world…the slurping sound of my dog’s INCESSANT licking of his privates.

SLUPFSE, FSLUEH, WHATEVER!!

First, I give a little nudge and a firm, “NO!”  Then, a little kick. “Please stop!”

I swear this dog hates me. When I die and am peacefully heading toward the pearly gates, I will hear a faint but reassuring sound………SLUPPSHIE, SLUPPSHIE…….and I will know that I’m home.

The other night I came home late from my show in Atlantic City and the house was dark.

Everyone was asleep.

I opened the door and like a little school girl I had this tinge of excitement in my stomach. Could I have the house to myself?!

I had just bought a foot massager from Brookstone and I knew that my favorite apple cake was in the fridge. I put on the TV, set up my massager, and went for a piece of cake. Frankly, the cake was huge and I only really like the top part.  So, I turned it over and cut the top of the cake off.  Then, I proceeded to place my feet in the massager, stuff my face with apple cake and watch an entire episode of Inside the Actors Studio (with no kid interruptions).

This was one of the most beautiful moments in my life……up there with getting married and having kids.

Three things that I love most in life were granted at once….silence, a foot massage and apple cake-top.

I cried a little that night…………….

While I was working last week in Atlantic City, my husband, Jimmy, had a movie marathon with the kids every night.

On New Year’s Eve, I came home and my ten year old son came running to the door saying he wanted to sleep in my bed that night.  He said he had just watched “The Knowing” and was totally freaked out. Jimmy played it down but I’ve since met grown men that said they had peed the bed after watching that movie.

His defense was that it was PG-13.  The conversation went like this….

“He’s ten,” I reminded him.

“What’s the difference?” he argued.

“Three….as in Three Years,” I screamed!!! (And maybe some body hair…This kid is barely out of Spiderman underwear and still orders Happy Meals. )

Next week, I’m going to make my five year old daughter watch “Invasion of the Body Snatchers.”

It’s about time she grew up……………….

We made it into the New Year and all those resolutions are beginning. I didn’t eat the five brownies I wanted to eat…I only ate three.

My husband and I pulled into the driveway tonight and he said, “Oh…I have to finish painting the garage door this week.” (Which sounds great if he had put the first coat on yesterday.) Unfortunately, the first coat went on in 2002. Not to sound too unappreciative I said, “Great honey…I think that’s just what the paint can said. Apply first coat and wait eight years to make sure it’s dry. Then finish with second coat for a glorious shine.”

It’s tough sometimes…it’s really tough.