Turning Mozzarella Sticks into Merry Poopins

When I was new to LA after matriculating in Ohio, going out was a way of life. I was young and naïve and the Sunset Strip was just a few blocks away. Going out on the town was the best, and the worst. And being a young single guy, the winter holiday season was always filled with festive nights out filled with no shortage of flowing beverages and hors d’oeuvres. I remember one particular New Years Eve spent with a group of pals at a spicy cantina called Senorita’s. Back then my patience for crowds was thick and my stomach was eager to sample my newly discovered passion for Mexican cuisine. Those nights, and their subsequent mornings after, weren’t as painless as in college, but were still manageable for a youngish dude. Perhaps that’s because that era, around the turn of the millennium, was when I began seeking comfort with a tasty little pink darling who was always ready and waiting for my call, morning, noon or night.

Now, years later, I’m older and wiser. There’s no chance I’d go to a Hollywood joint like Senorita’s (RIP) on New Years Eve. Clubs, lines and unnecessary crowds are as foreign to me now as babysitters, Nick Jr. and the Valley were to me then. Hell, there’s minimal chance I’d go anywhere on NYE without a great reason, like being invited to drop the ball at midnight from Mars.

As of a few years ago, likely coinciding with becoming parents, Mrs. Dude and I adopted a low-key approach to the New Years holiday. We usually have a family activity during the day (i.e. something that will wear the kids out and make them want to go to bed early) followed by Mrs. Dude’s famous Appetizer Dinner as our oxymoronic main course.

Every December 31st now, as our oven readies an array of bubbling oozy mozzarella sticks, fried mushrooms that erupt like a volcano when you bite into them, crunchy chewy taquitos AND my wife’s famous homemade pigs in blankets, I can feel my stomach percolating in eager anticipation of the fiesta it’s about to ingest-a. And with each passing year, I tell myself that I can still down this stuff like I did 20 years ago in my off-campus apartment on any given Tuesday night a mere 6 hours before a big exam. The truth is I realize that I need a head exam to think I can make it through this big tasty night without a wingman by my side. So I look back to that little pink lady who’s always been there for me through both good times and stuffed crust pizza: Pepto-Bismol.

Unlike the comparative ease of my college and mid-20’s adventures, I now face New Years with a new crew and my Little Dudes don’t show the same mercy my professors usually did. I have to be up and ready to move on January 1^st long before noon, sadly, on some family adventure or another. That means I don’t have time for my digestive tract to go on strike from our previous night’s holiday excess, relatively low key as it may have been. So I keep a bottle of the classic pink tummy-fixer elixir chilling’ in the fridge, ensuring that I’m always ready to counterattack my intestinal distress, call it Mozzarella’s Revenge, caused by my exposure to a few of my favorite things*, head on. Plus, if I’m not home, I can carry chewables in my pocket, making it even easier to stop the need to go when I’m on the go.

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*Speaking of my favorite things, unlike virtually every third other person in LA, I don’t fancy myself a songwriter, but the memories conjured while writing this post and some seasonal movie watching inspired me to pen some alternate lyrics to a classic tune from one of my wife's favorite movies about singing Austrian families. Thanks to Pepto-Bismol whose #PinkRelief helps me avoid being a self-induced member of the Von Crapp family, and for more Merry Poopins.

Here's a little poem I wrote, to the tune of one of my favorite songs: 

Fresh fried veg-tables with dips straight from Ranches

Taste great but cause me belly ava-lanches

Bubbling hot pizza dripping with oil

Makes my chest feel like it’s going to boil

Buttered hot pretzels are a wonderful lot

But usually tie my gut in a big salty knot

Holidays lead to delicious binges

Rescued by Pepto with its bright pink tinges…

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I was compensated for this post, but all opinions contained within are entirely mine, for better or worse, like the fact that mozzarella sticks might be the greatest food ever invented. 

My Ultimate Cure for the Babysitter Blues

The first time Mrs. Dude and I left the Little Dude with a babysitter was on our 3^rd wedding anniversary. He was almost 8 months old and a friend offered to relieve us for a quiet and diaper-less night out. Long story short, he was asleep for the night before she arrived, we went out and had a lovely meal and upon our return learned that he’d woken up 30 minutes after we’d left and proceeded to cry for the next 2 hours until we got home. That evening pretty much set the tone for almost all of our subsequent babysitting experiences. 

From my experience, in addition to being conscientious caregivers, most sitters we’ve used have been generally at least 1 of 2 things: expensive and/or late, both of which are more environmental issues than anything else.  For those reasons, among others, we don’t splurge on babysitters as often as we might like and usually reserve them for special occasions.

For our recent wedding anniversary, which was also the 5^th anniversary of the experience mentioned above, I decided to spin the wheel again. This year, our big day fell on a Tuesday, which further complicated things as reliable, and available, weekday sitters are infinitely harder to find.

As we’d just gone out for a nice dinner a few weeks earlier for Mrs. Dude’s big birthday, I came up with another idea for our anniversary: a night at the movies. I know that may sound a tad pedestrian, but it had been quite a while since Mrs. Dude and I had been to a movie without the boys, so I splurged and picked a movie at a fancy theater with reserved leather-recliner seats where they serve dinner while you eat!

We’ve gotten used to going to movies and seeing somewhere between 50-90% of the film due to kids’ myriad bathroom breaks, snack requests and questions about what’s happening onscreen, so this time it was going to be feet-up, 3D glasses on our eyes and plates of hot noms in front of us. My biggest concern was our sitter. Not that I don’t inherently trust her to treat my children as her own, but would she be able to successfully battle the L.A. freeways to get to us with enough time for us to make it to the theater?

Thankfully, I could relax due to Fandango’s worry-free ticketing system. I booked our tickets and picked our primo seats via the Fandango mobile app, as always, so I knew we weren’t going to be shut out at the box office or stuck in the front row craning our necks to see the dinosaurs flying toward us. But sometimes life happens and your babysitter gets stuck in traffic, or their grandmother dies or the dog eats their homework and you can’t make your movie. Fandango takes care of that for you, too, with their Worry-Free option to return or exchange your Fandango tickets at least 2 hours before show time if you change your mind or if your babysitter changes theirs.

So how’d it go? As I’d planned (and prayed), our sitter arrived promptly, we got to the theater 5 minutes before the lights dimmed which was enough time to order drinks and dinner, leaned our dead-center seats back with our feet up and enjoyed an uninterrupted night at the theater. Plus, I can’t forget the gold star for our sitter who reported two sleeping boys and zero tears when we returned home a few hours later.

Needless to say, we fared much better than the dinosaurs we’d just watched onscreen.

Disclaimer: I wrote this post as part of my participation in the Fandango Family Digital Network. I was compensated for this post, but all content and opinions contained within are mine entirely, for better or worse. Come hang with the FF team on Facebook, too. 

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Oscar Who?

It’s Oscar Sunday, a day for celebrating the best movies of 2012. Or at least the ones with the biggest advertising budgets. Who is going to win: Argo, Lincoln, or Madagascar 3? If those were the options and I had a vote, I’d vote for Madagascar 3. Is it the best of those three movies? Most likely not, but it’s the only one of that trio that I've watched.

I love movies. I love going to movies. I miss going to movies. Sigh.

In the 39 months since the Little Dude was born, I think Mrs. Dude and I have seen 5 movies in a theater. That’s an average of 1 almost every 8 months, or about as often as I went on dates in high school. None of them were kids’ movies, but none of them were great films either. Also none of them began before 10:00pm, when the Little Dude (and now the Littler Dude) were asleep. Spoiler alert: I think I was probably asleep for parts of them all, too. That’s freakin’ late.

Thanks to my 3-year-old, the majority of movies I’ve seen in the last couple of years have been Pixar, Dreamworks and other animated films at home on the DVD player. Toy Story 1, 2, & 3, Cars 1 & 2, etc. Over and over and over. If nothing else, at least the Little Dude learned to count from watching these movies. Actually those movies usually have pretty good messages about family, friendship or other impressionable subjects that are great for kids of all ages. They also contain great lovable characters that they license the hell out of and we see on objects that my son wants in seemingly every retail store on earth.

Need Buzz Lightyear prosthetic legs? Coming up soon!

I wrote a blog post about our movie outing for 2012. It was about what you’d expect.

If we were going to pay for a babysitter, pay for tickets and go to dinner or get a snack, that’s easily a $100 night. Think I’m going to drop a Benjamin to go see Battleship? I thought the board game itself was lame 30 years ago. I can’t imagine it got better when transferred to celluloid. Despite Brooklyn Decker in the film, I’d rather wait for the dramatization of Hungry Hungry Hippos. Or is that just the first few weeks of The Biggest Loser?

Decker must know a lot about Naval intelligence from her time as a swimsuit model

Being of modest means is only one reason we don’t go to the movies, though. I really would like to see Lincoln, but I also would really like to have clean underwear. Our evenings get consumed with laundry, bills and the other minutiae that make up life. I really don’t understand how parents find the time to do all that stuff and still make it out to the theater on a regular basis. I read about the interesting-sounding movie The Sessions, where Helen Hunt played a sex surrogate. At this point, I’d settle for a dishwashing surrogate.

I used to compile a list of movies I’d like to see someday. But then I realized that my Tivo is backed up with TV shows from 8 months ago. If I can’t carve out 22 minutes to watch those, when will I find 4 hours to watch the next big blockbuster I want to see?

So what’s my big Oscar prediction? I’d bet the bank on Silver Linings Playbook. Is it really the best movie of the year? Probably not. So why then? Because it’s the only nominated film I’ve actually seen.  

What was your favorite movie of 2012?