Leap Day Hangover


Give us one extra day and all hell breaks loose! Snooki, snow, and Davy…oh my! I am nursing a Leap Day hangover, aren’t you?

Get your head out of the scorpion bowl, Snooki. You're preggers!

So, here’s the situation: Snooki will be hosting Mommy-and-Me Happy Hour very soon. The pint-sized “reality” star is going full-size to deliver her first little “meatball” to the Jersey Shore. I don’t know why this surprises me–she’s will do any “guido” with a pulse–but it does. She’s denying it for now, but she didn’t get where she is without Pinnochio in her pocket. She wants a trash mag cover that doesn’t feature her ass crack, public intoxication, or being cursed by an irate Italian woman for her foul-mouthed rants…oh, and she wants to get paid. I am envisioning her snuggled up to her on-again love, looking sweetly into the camera with big brown eyes and a we can do it expression on her face.

I just puked in my mouth…just a little bit. Eff morning sickness, I’ve got Snooki sickness. Her bun should be on top of her head after a wild night of partying, but, instead, she’s got one in the oven. Pray with me that she doesn’t incite a pregnancy pact in my Suburban Jersey Shore. Yes, teenagers like her that much (including my own).

Why do we live in a world where Snooki gets knocked up in-between shots and my friends who are ready for the awesome responsibility of Mommyhood struggle with infertility?

Again, a little vomit. Okay, maybe a lot.

Uh, what's this white stuff, Mommy?

So…on to the next insanity…snow! I really haven’t seen it since Halloween. This has been the winter that wasn’t. A Leap Day snowstorm is almost like a long-lost uncle showing up unexpectedly for Thursday night dinner with a bottle of wine Mommyjuice. I don’t really know what to do say about it at this point of our non-winter, but I’ll toast to it. It’s winter. We should have a little snow. And Mommyjuice is always welcome here.

And, on a sad note, Davy Jones died. On a Leap Day…so his fans will only be able to truly mark it every four years. That really sucks for a heartthrob of his caliber. He had a mop top and a British accent to boot…take that, Justin Bieber! The guy made teenage girls lose their voices everywhere! I had a nanosecond of a crush on him because Marsha, Marsha, Marsha dug him (he was a little before my time, but Monkees songs are classic). It’s a shame he died so unexpectedly, so young, and on Leap Day. Again, that really sucks. RIP Davy.

Welcome, March 1. So happy you’re here.

p.s. Please keep clicking that little brown box on the upper right of your screen…it’s working. Mommy Dish is rocking the charts, but we need a little more oomph to rock it Monkees style. Thanks!

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