As a child, I was prone to VERY severe headaches. I realized as an adult that they were migraines. My father did not take us to the doctor every time we were slightly short of par, physically like parents do today - so no one ever prescribed anything or told me migraine triggers. Therefore - I was left to deal with the vice grip on my skull without the use of modern medicine.

Well, the best remedy was my fathers head rubs. Its funny, my mom even talks about his head rubs being the things she missed the most after they split up. So - it wasnt just me - he cured mom’s sinus headaches as well. When he was unable to administer said head rubs - I would wrap my hair around my bed posts and pull in order to try to relieve the pain. THAT is how severe they were.

I’ve come to realize two things about those headrubs as an adult.

#1 - I dont know how my dad would do it for hours until I would fall asleep. When LilZoot gets headaches, I try the patented Papa Zoot head rub, to no avail. The technique, I execute fine, but my FINGERS. Oh my sweet Jesus! After 5 minutes my fingers cramp so bad I’m in tears and need medication for MY pain. That man - my father - is not made of the same stuff the rest of us are - I tell you that.

#2 - no man has ever come CLOSE to relieving my headaches with a head rub. No where close. So, I’ve befriended Advil, and most headaches fade after a few of those little orange pills.

I couldnt take any Advil last night because my stomach was uneasy. This is often the case. However, I do still get headaches periodically, so I just whine and moan and cry until they go away. My husband and son LOVE that. Well, last night, as I was in bed about to fall asleep, a headache hit. I started whining IMMEDIATELY.

Zoot - My HHHEEEEAAAAYYYYAAADDDD hhhuurrrrttttss.

Mr. Zoot - I’m sorry baby, is there anything I can do?
(This is the typical song and dance for us)

Zoot - NNNNoooo, all I want is to go to sleeepppp because I’m so ttttiiiiirrrrreeeeeddd. Whine Whine Whine. Moan Moan Moan.

Then - Mr. Zoot started rubbing my head in an “I’m getting rid of that headache if its the LAST thing I do” kind of frenzy. I swear - it was like I heard angels singing as the vice grip loosened from my skull with the magic touch of his strong fingers. It was like an out of body experience it was so wonderful. He made my headache go away. With his hands! I truly did marry the right man!

So - I think I may get another headache tonight…

This post is for the gagillion google hits I got on my old blog for people searching for “Krispy Kreme Donut Cakes”.

So This? Is my wedding cake. Yes. It’s made out of Krispy Kreme Donuts. Yes. A Krispy Kreme Donut Wedding Cake. The outer layer are powdered donuts to give the “white” appearance, but all the inner ones? Glazed, Baby. Because those? Are like bits of heaven, in the form of little rings. Most importantly? People talked about it all night long and they are STILL talking about it.

I wasnt about to spend 800 plus dollars on a cake I wouldnt eat, because I dont eat cake. So? I made this one myself. ALL total? It took about 30 minutes to make and cost about 100 dollars, stand and all. I am posting this on my NEW blog because the entry on my old blog got at least 5 hits a day. If you are one of the people looking for info on Krispy Kreme Donut Cakes, and would like to know how I did it etc, please leave a comment and I’ll respond in an email.

Oh - and if you see a few chocolate glazed donuts in there? It is because we didnt order enough glazed and had to use the donuts from the groom’s cake, which my hubby picked out.

Am I a bad mother for not caring a lot that my son saw Janet Jackson’s breast during the Super Bowl halftime show? I mean, I flinched for a second fearing full nudity (yeah - I know - thats not going to happen) and braced to cover my sons eyes, but it was just a boob.

Okay - so I know I sound like MY parents when I say that my son’s generation is growing up faster than I had too. He will (has been) introduced to sex,drugs, and rock-n-roll much sooner than I was. So - why would I want to shelter him more than I was?

Don’t get me wrong - I’m not getting him a subscription to playboy for his birthday (he’s in 3rd grade), but I also didn’t dodge all the questions that arose from the Brittany/Madonna/Christina kisses. Which - by the way - he saw on the cover of the NEWSPAPER, NOT on MTV. I answered them the best I could. I didn’t fire off letters to MTV, or write editorials. I just said “No honey, they aren’t Lesbians, they are just performing, and that is part of their performance.” I don’t want my son to embrace his sexuality at age 9, but I don’t want to suppress it either.

So, am I right? Am I wrong? Whose to say. But I am pretty sure he’s NOT going to grow up to be a sexual deviant or a pervert simply because he saw Janet Jackson’s boob when he was 9. Now — Mr. Zoot on the other hand, may NEVER be the same….

Its one of those days.

So -
Yesterday was the Super Bowl. Also known as “One of many annual events that Zoot feels it’s NECESSARY to binge eat the most unhealthy food imaginable”.

I decided this year to make it a two-day event.

We had a crock pot full of my special cheese dip, some homemade french onion dip, salsa, little chocolate peanut butter footballs, and the most sinfully chocolate birthday cake imaginable for a friend whose birthday is today. There was also an assortment of meats and cheeses for crackers. I ate so much crap that neither I, nor any of my family or friends, had room for the actual DINNER. I actually put 12 or so chicken breasts in the fridge because the were cooked, but no one had room to eat them.

Its sinful really. I mean - why do I put my body through that torture? None of those food had nutrional value - yet I ate, and ate, and ate, and ate. BUT - I did not eat enough, because there are LEFTOVERS. And what I am doing today?Trying to make sure there are no leftovers for tomorrow.

SO - if you need me, I’ll be in the bathroom vomiting because I’ve eaten 4 lbs of chocolate peanut butter footballs. And an entire jar of Salsa. Together.

If I’m not there? Look for me by the chocolate cake.