PMSBuddy.com: Saving Relationships One Month at a Time!

Yes, you read that correctly. There is a website called "PMSBuddy.com."

What is PMSBuddy.com, you ask?

Why, it's a free, online PMS-reminder designed for men, that, according to the website, is "created with a single goal in mind: to keep you aware of when your wife, girlfriend, mother, sister, daughter, or any other women in your life are closing in on 'that time of the month' - when things can get intense for what may seem to be no reason at all."

And, it's as easy as one-two-three! Guys, simply sign up for a free account, choose the women that you want to track, and start getting email notifications when that dreaded time approaches. You can send notifications to yourself for up to 5 women. (Hmm...up to 5?) Women can set their boyfriends or husbands up on it...you know, to give them the heads up.

Even better...PMSBuddy.com offers FREE ADVICE for fighting PMS! From ground-breaking ideas like ordering flowers ("kryptonite to PMS"), to just throwing in the towl and shopping for a new girl on Match.com, there is a solution for all forms of PMS. There's even a link called "How to Pick Women up on Public Transporation: A true player can pick women up anywhere - including on the subway. We have the tips you need to seal the deal."

Their slogan? Saving relationships one month at a time! Natch.

The Morning After

I feel pretty good, all things considered. Sleep deprived? Yes. Hungover? Not even.

Great success!

It could have been a disaster. Come to think of it, the entire evening was a recipe for a hangover.


First off, I only got two solid hours of sleep. We decided the family should spend the night at Gammie & Gampys house, just a block from our adult Halloween party so we wouldn’t have to drive home wasted. We got to their house around 2:30am and Marley woke up with the sun…roughly around 5:30am. (Funny how daylight savings time doesn’t apply to babies.) To make matters worse, Marley wasn’t having it with her pack-n-play, and chose to nestle in between us, waking up every 20 minutes or so to announce that the cats were in the room.

Secondly, hello, it was a Halloween party. Everyone knows that costumes and substance abuse go hand in hand, and I was proud to represent, drinking large quantities of red wine and champagne. I kept forgetting to drink water, and chose to hydrate with…you guessed it…red wine and champagne.

But surprisingly enough, I feel OK! I don’t feel like running a marathon, but if someone held a gun to my head, I could run a few blocks.

To what do I owe this hangover success?

To a Santana’s burrito, of course! Bean, cheese, rice, and guacamole to be exact.

Ian, in a rare moment of foresight, decided that we should pick up 3 burritos (one for partner in crime, Gretchen) and put them in the fridge BEFORE the impending drunkenness. Then, when we got home, we could eat the burritos to ward off an impending hangover. GENIOUS!

Much improved over the last get together at Kelly & Chad’s house, where I decided to drink several large glasses of red wine AFTER drinking sake and other assorted beverages. When I woke up that morning, the room was spinning. I spent the next 5 hours barfing into the toilet while trying to entertain Marley with books and stuffed animals, (look how cool
Elmo looks with toilet paper on his head!) with one ear straining to hear the Child Protective Services Van pull up and outside.

But not today! Today, I am spry as a spring lamb. Today, all mothers will want to emulate me. Today, I am patient, fun, and not remotely grossed out by Marley's extreme blueberry poops. Today, Marley and I will read dozens of books, and build endless towers of blocks. We won't stop until we reach the sky!

(Right after I take a little nap.)

Why does our Pumpkin Look like a Child Molester?

Well, doesn't he?

Just in case you were wondering, Part II

Marley Ate Poop Today.

Dog poop, to be exact.

When we got home from Stroller Strides this morning, I noticed a foul stench radiating from the general direction of her nursery. Had I forgotten to close the top of the Diaper Genie?

Alas, it was dog poop! Pagoda, our Pekingese, had left a nice little steamer in the middle of her nursery. He had been eating a lot of her food lately. Marley loves dumping half of her breakfast over the side of her high chair to see what Pagoda will eat. This morning it was scrambled eggs and blueberry pancakes. A LOT of blueberry pancakes. Needless to say, it was very stinky.

I cleaned the poop up, and thought I had everything under control. A few minutes later, I noticed that Marley was playing in her nursery again...very quietly. Immediately suspicious, I walked in and found her smiling and swinging another piece of poop around. Sick! Turns out Pagoda had left another nice little pile behind her rocking chair. I hadn't seen it before. And, there was poop on her mouth. She had taken a bite! SICK!!!! Didn't seem to bother her too much though, because she just stood there, laughing.

Just in Case You Were Wondering...

Marley and the Four Seasons

Marley is quite taken with the "Four Seasons" by Vivaldi. I started playing the CD in her room to calm her during diaper changes. In fact, she's grown to expect classical music every time I change her diaper. And she always lets me know if I forget to turn it on. By screaming, of course--her preferred method of communication.

Vivaldi has even become part of our nighttime routine. When 7:30pm rolls around, I'll say, "Marley...it's sleepy time," and I'll make the sign for "sleepy." She'll woefully look up from whatever she's doing, and reluctantly trudge towards her room. She'll turn and make one last pause, mournfully waving goodbye to whoever is up in the living room. She'll walk right up to her crib and reach up her arms, waiting to be lifted into her bed. I'll play the last song on the Vivaldi CD and kiss her goodnight. She'll stand up, again sorrowful and sad, and give me one last, woeful wave as I close the nursery door, leaving her to the music and the night.

Birth of a Blog

“You need to write about this--this mommy stuff,” said my friend Maxine, as she poured herself another glass of wine. “You’re not afraid to tell it like it is.”

“Really?” I said, pouring some wine for myself. “You think people want to read about my hemorrhoids?"