Molly had her 15-month checkup at the pediatrician today. Aside from the usual (tensing up as soon as she got in the exam room, crying hysterically when she got her shots, forgetting it all when she saw the funhouse mirror at the front desk), we expressed concern to the doctor that she's the same weight she was at 12 months even though she's grown half an inch. The doctor wasn't overly concerned but suggested that we try sneaking extra calories into all of her meals in any way possible; meaning, in essence, we have to do the exact opposite for Molly of what we try to do with all of our own meals. To accomplish this, the doc advised us to "get creative." Naturally, like all good-hearted people, I immediately thought of the immortal words of Dr. Nick:
Dr. Nick: "Now there are many options available for dangerously underweighted individuals like yourself. I recommend a slow, steady gorging process combined with assal horizontology."
Homer: "Of course."
Nick: "You'll want to focus on the neglected food groups such as the whipped group, the congealed group and the chocotastic!"
Homer: "What can I do to speed the whole thing up, Doctor?"
Nick: "Well, be creative. Instead of making sandwiches with bread, use pop tarts. Instead of chewing gum, chew bacon."
Bart: "You could brush your teeth with milkshakes!"
Nick: "Hey, did you go to Hollywood Upstairs Medical College too? And remember, if you're not sure about something, rub it against a piece of paper. If the paper turns clear, it's your window to weight gain!"
Bye, everybody!
Wednesday, January 27, 2010
Thursday, January 21, 2010
Tradition
So instead of me making some longwinded apology, can we just taken it as given that I meant to post a lot sooner, got caught up in a video game, and would still in fact be playing if my Xbox 360 hadn't broken? Yes? Good.
With that out of the way, I have to tell you all (both?) about perhaps the most cherished Christmas tradition in our family. It's relatively new... in fact, it's only been going on for two years, but I have every confidence that it will grow into the hallowed observance it deserves to be. Every year Ann and I wake up, get Molly up and fed, exchange our gifts, then drive over to my parents' house, where we open gifts with them and my sister. Afterward we have brunch, and then in our pancake-induced food comas, we lounge around on couches the rest of the day, watching whatever movies people got for Christmas. Now that my sister and I are older, our parents no longer feel obligated to buy us only G- and PG-rated movies, and thus every year you can count on either my sister or my father to receive at least one of the Farrelly/Apatow/Frat Pack gross-out comedies from the preceding year. All well and good, but where any normal family would have the good sense to save those films to watch when they're alone or with friends, my family does not possess this capacity for self-regulation. So it came to pass that last year, my darling sister suggested we all watch her new DVD Forgetting Sarah Marshall; and when Ann and I, neither of whom had seen it (see: new parents) quietly asked whether it would be awkward to watch with Mom and Dad, were assured that no, it really wasn't that bad. And thus we were treated to Jason Segal's penis, Mila Kunis' bewbs (not complaining, but hard to properly appreciate in front of Mom), lots of sex moaning, and a pretty darn realistic simulation of a BJ. I think Ann got off a little easier, since at least they were just her in-laws rather than her actual parents, but oh, how reminiscent it was of an episode of The Office.
Naturally, this year Ann and I were on red alert, not least because in addition to my parents and sister, we also had my grandfather and great-uncle visiting for the holidays. So when BOTH my sister and Dad opened copies of The Hangover, my heart sank. This time even my sister seemed hesitant, but Dad was committed to watching it (with his dad sitting in the room... go figure), so my sis assured us that as long as we stopped right before the end credits, it would be okay. And that's how we saw Heather Graham's bewb (singular), bare-ass male buttcheeks, and arguably even more swearing and sex talk than last year. I know I'm not in grade school anymore, but if you think you'd be comfortable sitting in a living room with your Grandpa, a great-grandfather, and hearing about how someone's girlfriend got fucked by a waiter on a cruise ship but it's okay because he didn't come inside her, well... you have less shame than I, my friend.
So that's apparently our new family tradition! I'm super stoked, as you might expect. I literally can't wait until next year, when I can only imagine someone will get a copy of 9 1/2 Weeks or Zack and Miri Make A Porno or something, assuming Jenna Jameson hasn't come out with anything new. If I'm really lucky, maybe someone will leak a sex tape of Lindsay Lohan or the like in the next eleven months and we can gather around the fire to watch that as a family. Some folks carol, others attend services... we watch really inappropriate, awkward movies together. It's the spirit of the season!
With that out of the way, I have to tell you all (both?) about perhaps the most cherished Christmas tradition in our family. It's relatively new... in fact, it's only been going on for two years, but I have every confidence that it will grow into the hallowed observance it deserves to be. Every year Ann and I wake up, get Molly up and fed, exchange our gifts, then drive over to my parents' house, where we open gifts with them and my sister. Afterward we have brunch, and then in our pancake-induced food comas, we lounge around on couches the rest of the day, watching whatever movies people got for Christmas. Now that my sister and I are older, our parents no longer feel obligated to buy us only G- and PG-rated movies, and thus every year you can count on either my sister or my father to receive at least one of the Farrelly/Apatow/Frat Pack gross-out comedies from the preceding year. All well and good, but where any normal family would have the good sense to save those films to watch when they're alone or with friends, my family does not possess this capacity for self-regulation. So it came to pass that last year, my darling sister suggested we all watch her new DVD Forgetting Sarah Marshall; and when Ann and I, neither of whom had seen it (see: new parents) quietly asked whether it would be awkward to watch with Mom and Dad, were assured that no, it really wasn't that bad. And thus we were treated to Jason Segal's penis, Mila Kunis' bewbs (not complaining, but hard to properly appreciate in front of Mom), lots of sex moaning, and a pretty darn realistic simulation of a BJ. I think Ann got off a little easier, since at least they were just her in-laws rather than her actual parents, but oh, how reminiscent it was of an episode of The Office.
Naturally, this year Ann and I were on red alert, not least because in addition to my parents and sister, we also had my grandfather and great-uncle visiting for the holidays. So when BOTH my sister and Dad opened copies of The Hangover, my heart sank. This time even my sister seemed hesitant, but Dad was committed to watching it (with his dad sitting in the room... go figure), so my sis assured us that as long as we stopped right before the end credits, it would be okay. And that's how we saw Heather Graham's bewb (singular), bare-ass male buttcheeks, and arguably even more swearing and sex talk than last year. I know I'm not in grade school anymore, but if you think you'd be comfortable sitting in a living room with your Grandpa, a great-grandfather, and hearing about how someone's girlfriend got fucked by a waiter on a cruise ship but it's okay because he didn't come inside her, well... you have less shame than I, my friend.
So that's apparently our new family tradition! I'm super stoked, as you might expect. I literally can't wait until next year, when I can only imagine someone will get a copy of 9 1/2 Weeks or Zack and Miri Make A Porno or something, assuming Jenna Jameson hasn't come out with anything new. If I'm really lucky, maybe someone will leak a sex tape of Lindsay Lohan or the like in the next eleven months and we can gather around the fire to watch that as a family. Some folks carol, others attend services... we watch really inappropriate, awkward movies together. It's the spirit of the season!
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