Apr 28, 9:11 PM (ET)

My husband’s down with pets attitude is finally starting to lift. It only took about one year.

Ever since we’ve become parents having two dogs and a newborn/toddler/two-year old has been challenging. Lately, things are starting to become a new version of normal and some of the old things, like having a dog hair-free house and poop-free back yard are starting to come back again.

We took both our dogs to the vet and learned that our 7 year-old Lab/retriever mix may have thyroid issues causing him weight gain (he needs to drop 10 lbs.) and skin problems. It also explains why he acts like Eeyore from Winne-the-Pooh.

He’s now on a diet that involves high fiber food, green beans and nightly walks. This should improve my results for my diet as well.

His blood tests for his thyroid condition should be in soon. Now, we need to find a way to stop Zach from feeding his unwanted food to the dogs. Bad, toddler, baaaddddd!

Here are some of my recent favorites while looking at the lovey flicker.com.

Zach loves motorcycles.

That is the understatement of the year. He lives and breathes them. Pictures, t-shirts, toys, people driving the real thing– if it resembles a motorcycle he is there.

This weekend we had warm and sunny, perfect weather. I needed few more shots of him with the motorcycle and his toy Indiana motorcycle to complete a book I was working on for him. The book was made with Blurb.com and is loaded with lots of his favorite pictures to keep him from smashing his baby book and tearing apart picture albums. The more pictures of motorcycles ensures it will be a big hit.

Here are a few of my favorite shots.

“Mommy is being pissy,” my husband said after I repeated myself for the second time in a huffy voice.

“Pisshy,” Zach repeated.

“Ah, that’s a swear word,” I told my husband. “In England it means drunk and in this country it’s not something that two year-olds say.”

Thankfully his diction is not quite there yet, so if he repeats it again we can say he’s talking about fish or something.

In the mean time, my husband may need a list on the fridge or Zach will be the first kid who says “Fire f*ck” and it isn’t accidental. Since we’re not filming a Will Ferrell short here, he should probably clean it up.

At my diet center we are asked to come in and get weighed (for accountability) three times a week

I admit I’m a bit neurotic, so I weigh in the mornings and wear the lightest thing possible after several checks on the scale.

I usually weigh in on Tuesdays, Thursdays and Saturdays. Well, because Zach was sick I hit the Wednesday weigh-in crowd and there was quite a morning rush.

One man was in a huge over-sized tee shirt, flannel pajama bottoms; he was quite scruffy with only socks on his feet, no shoes. He was called back to the scales before me.

On my way back I commented, “Pajamas? I never thought about using that as a standard for weighing yourself,” I joked.

“Oh, he always comes in like that. Today he said he didn’t even shower and he didn’t have any shoes on.”
“Really?” I pondered.

“Yeah, he’s a child psychologist.”
What?

Does that explain the behavior? Is he trying to tap into a 12 year-old boy’s secret desires?
Maybe I’m wrong but I thought a child psychologist is who you went to when your child acted like that.

Then again, it could be that it’s a match made in heaven.

Oh, yeah, it’s Earth day. Earth. Where we live. Where the majority of us have only existed. A bit general, don’t you think?

It’s one of those warm fuzzy days that give us a chance to think “Oh, I do my part. I threw away my Coke can in the recycle bin.”

Then they hit us with a million scary statistics that one individual can do nothing about. Sorry, I’m a pessimist. I’ll keep using the recycle bin and stuff.

I have muscle soreness. The kind you get when you never work out and then you try to do a normal person’s work out with weights. Two days later the “burn” is not going away.

On top of that, the mad scientist that is my dentist put a crown on my molar causing me pain for days. It’s what she calls “tooth sensitivity” and I call “DAMN THAT HURTS!”

So, I bought into the commerical for Advil Liquid Jell caps. It’s the one where the guy is in his 30s and plays on a Dodge Ball team. In the advertisment he claims that it relieves his muscle soreness. I thought, “Hey, he’s old like me and he’s getting beat with little rubber balls thown by grown men. This product could work for me.”

Even the dosage suggests only one pill, possibly followed by two. SUPERPOWERFUL STUFF HERE FOLKS, the wording implies. Two hours later, two gel caps …nothing, zilch.

I’m not giving this to my toddler, makers of Advil, I’m giving it to my old, tired, sore, overweight adult ass. Two gel caps are not cutting it.

Would one more take me to the point of Advil OD? The package would suggest it, but I think I’ll live on the edge.