Happy DaDa's Day!

Big Woo here - we heartily apologize for the June MIA, but Big Woo family has been spinning the collective wheel for the last few weeks. So much to write about - referralversary, visit from Lincoln and the Peaks, Vegas, and more freakishly, Shelby turning 40.

But before I get into all that, Mr. M would like to interrupt the normal Big Woo Buzz for a special multi-media piece he's thrown together especially for his DaDa.

To the Best DaDa in the World,

Happy first DaDa's Day dear DaDa! You are my sunshine, my open and shut them, my ah ah ah ah ah ah ah ah ah...Thank you for teaching me to fly off my changing table, feeding me licorice behind mama's back, dressing me in leg warmers and always some sort of plaid, letting me scream at an unbelievably high pitch in public places, deciphering mommy's weird ass moods for me, putting me on your shoulders and not walking into low hanging trees, wiping my buttarsky without mockery, and loving me unconditionally.

I love you Big D. Here's to more DaDa D Days to come!

EDIT - Turn off overused, soon-to-be-changed blog music at the IPod icon on the right hand side bar - to enjoy the montage muzak that Misho picked out for Big D.

Make an on-line slide show at www.OneTrueMedia.com

10,000 +....who are you people?

New blog entry or just an excuse to get my crazy-ass flamenco puss lower down on the screen. It's freakin me out and I'm sure all of you as well.

Today, Big Woo hit the 10,000 visitor mark. That's about 16 visits per day, on average since the first eruption of the Woo in November 2007.

I have no friggin idea what 10,000 hits means. Am I a popular blogger? A desperate blogger with no friends sitting on the empty side of the cafeteria? I'm sure it's 100 times less than that mom who appeared on Oprah for starting the mom-in-despair blogging phenom. This chick pulls in 6 figures a year for advertising space. I don't think I'm gonna make it to the Oprah couch any time soon or get Gerber chewables to float me some cash for 16 hits a day. But gosh darn it, I'm grateful.

Thank you for coming by the Big Woo when you can. Thank you for your words of support, friendship, disgust, confusion, and harassment. Thank you for being there during the wait when I posted annoying disco (ABBA) videos from You Tube, when the referral came and I spazzed, when we posted the Warhol interpretations of Misho's pink girlie outfit, during the baby prep where I dared to post the requisite nursery decorating photos, when I swore unabashedly, when I dared to think I could rally up enough mother juice to compete with Ms. Cosby, when Misho entered the hospital and almost put me in jail for bitch slapping a spinal tap-carrying ER tech, and during all the other benchmarks and craziness. It's been a ride.

Big Woo will continue to have no consistency, purpose, or theme. I don't go very deep. I don't share my tears, or the really bad crap that happens in one's life. I don't have the writing chops for such action. I stay clearly on the surface; floating on top the oil slick of life while trying to raise a beautiful boy in the best way possible. More importantly, I commit, to each and every one of you, to never, ever write a blog entry before 11pm without a cocktail in hand and without gross grammatical and spelling errors.

First though, I want to know: who the heck are you? A few of you leave comments, and many more just peruse. Please take a look at the survey on the right. It's simple, anonymous enough, and short. Please, grab a cocktail and take part in the Big Woo Survey of Woo-ers.


And always remember, The Big Woo loves you. And we mean it.

Flamenc-ho

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Scared yet? Best get out of the way of this mid-life lady crisis. I am one pissed off flamenco dancing diva with a lifetime of heartache and woe oozing out her feet. And funny enough, as I first predicted 15 years ago, looking more and more like a tired Anjelica Houston everyday.

David just asked if he could be my Jack Nicholson.

And most certainly without doubt, he is (minus the break up and alleged domestic violence).