But it makes me laugh.

Is this appropriate to have around in a child-filled house?

My measuring cup was half full.

Or, what a difference a cup makes. Or why multi-tasking really isn't all it's cracked up to be. Speaking of cracked up, I did get both eggs in the batter. Along with the sugars and vanilla. Then a break to pick up G at her friend's house. Then home and a phone call. Get the latte order figured out (2%, no whip). Then back to baking. Oh, wait, move the mixing bowl b/c now G is home and C was doing all the baking and the bowl is in G's way to eat the Moonpie she got at school today (no, really, she did).

So we're putting in the dry ingredients and then hand mixing in the chips and everyone wants a spoonful (3 of mine + 1 friend). Fast forward 9 minutes -- they're flat! As pancakes! Hmmm. I don't know says MM. But they sure do smell good!

Okay, now it's just back to me and C. Did we put in two big cups and one small cup? No, mom, it was one big cup and one small cup. Oops. Well, we can take care of that.

It really was a lovely afternoon....at least that's how I'm choosing to look at it.

Quote of the day.

Actually from last week....but when discussing the health care reform bill that passed, and showing video of people who were against it saying, "I can't ask my constituents to pay for something they believe is morally wrong." Oh, but except it's legal. Which leads to The Daily Show: "It's not like I can walk into the zoo with its $20 admission fee and say, here, here's $18.50, I don't like zebras."

What I learned today from my 6-year-old.

That those four little boys in that book aren't really jumping over that tree. It's probably that the tree is really far away. (Wow, I think, someone had to explain perspective to me in maybe, junior high??) This made me very proud.

That it's still cool for a six-year-old boy to hold his mom's hand all the way to school. This made me very happy.

That there is a cuss word that's the f-word. Eff. You. See. Kay. That's right. He spelled it right out. So unfortunately I learned that there aren't many grown-up secrets in this world that six-year-olds don't know already. The innocence of children is lost. This deeply saddened me.

Doesn't anyone else think this is not okay?

Surely you've heard about the pilots who blew right past the airport they were supposed to land at. Surely you've heard, "No, we weren't sleeping." Perhaps you've seen this cool map (thanks Dave) with the loop-de-loop flight path. But, really, come on, why isn't anyone talking about the fact that air traffic controllers lost contact with this plane at THE BORDER OF NEW MEXICO and nothing was done about it until they passed by the Minneapolis airport and ended up in WISCONSIN? Seriously?? There is no other way to perhaps reach the flight crew in the passenger section? And with the history we live with that people still TALK about all the time, why wasn't there ACTION way before then? They have no response after repeatedly attempting to reach these pilots with their subsequently unbelievable story but don't take any other action until they end up over WISCONSIN?? Well that sure doesn't make me feel good.

+2 = -2

This unfortunately seems to be the new math. One weeknight school district meeting + one weeknight elementary school meeting = one completely spaced-on girl scout event + one completely blown-off chess club. Hmmm. Feel free to nominate me for a mother-of-the-year award at any time...

Ha.

Where would we be without laughter. Tonight, comedian on Dave: "People with kids can be so annoying. They say, 'You don't know what it's like to bring a life into the world!' 'Yeah, right. But you don't know what it's like to take two naps in one day.'"

My brother's roller shade snapped up.

Or, rather, really, he got, close to, what he deserved. I feel like we got some personal health care reform. I'd like to talk to the person that made the right decision today. But, really and truly, actually, the insurance company should not pay for the technical problem of a medical device company. But neither should my brother. I just am so happy and relieved. But I'm still very disturbed by this whole process that makes no sense to any level of common sense of how the world should function. Seriously. It is really messed up.

But we'll go ahead and take this round.

Life's work.

The other day I was reminded to watch how I answer questions posed by the IRS. Apparently, question number one is "Do you enjoy your job?" Whatever you do, don't say "yes." Only IRS accountants would consider enjoying your profession to be a declaration that it's really just a hobby.

So, I won't say it out loud, but I am up to 2am formatting a book -- multi-leveled text, tables, diagrams -- ah...order, organization, information, details, the beauty of a display font.

Well, my other "employers" are going to be awake in a few hours. Just don't make me answer question number one about that job....

You don't have to say it twice.

Once will work. Like, "x with vanilla bean custard and orange chocolate sauce." Or maybe custard with a raspberry sauce. Or maybe with ice cream and chocolate, but that's not really my favorite. Now, when my brother saw Food&Wine say this, well, he truly didn't have to say it twice to me. Let's just say it out loud...."Hazelnut profiteroles with blue cheese and grapes." There will be a lot to be thankful for.

Time in a bottle.

Time's up. Time to get going. Do you have the time? It's about time. Time! Time to make a change. Time flies. The best time of day. You have to make the time. I just don't have the time. I wish I had time. We need time to talk. Time to go! Is it time yet? How much more time? When will it be time? The time is now. Take your time. Wish I had the time. What time is it? Time for bed.

Time traveler.

It's time. For traveling. The pace of travel lately has been, well, fabulous. I love my children and I am quite a homebody that loves being in my house. And it always feels good to come home. But Seattle...rocked. Memphis...big value. Chicago coming up...out of this world. Three cities in six weeks. It just confirms one of my life priorities. I'm so happy to have made the time. T squared, baby.

Time flies.

Me: "I can't believe it's the Fourth of July!"
R: "Mom, it's the third of July."
Sigh.
Me: "I mean the Fourth of July time of year."
R: "Yeah, time goes by so fast. It's like we're in a car driving 100 miles an hour."

Nuh-uh!

"Aqua is more blue than green."
"No it's not."
"Yes, it is."
"Nuh-uh! Aqua is more GREEN than blue!"
"You're lying! Aqua is WAY MORE BLUE than green!!!!!!"
"Is not!!!!"
"Is so!!!!!!!!!"

Does anybody else have this problem at the breakfast table? I mean, really.

They're over there with their spoons.

Maybe it's because my second-grader has mastered the three uses and correct spellings of these words, but WAKE UP PEOPLE! I can't tell you how many times in the past week I've come across misspelled words. A friend the other day was blogging "out past the rivers and desserts." Now I'm all for a serious taste of chocolate post-meal, but when you have "America the Beautiful" in mind just take a second. (Sorry, SH!) But even a search on a well-respected source for stock imagery turned up this image of pastries among the sand and camels.

So, starting tomorrow, every blog I read without typographical errors is eligible to stop by my office and pick a prize out of the prize bucket. Hey, it works for the little people.

And I just sat there.

Last night (I know, they have evening hours now) I took my t-minus-8-days 8-year-old (?) (that's right!) to the pediatrician's office. He had accidentally jabbed a pencil in to the palm of his hand. Oh, wait, excuse me, the pencil somehow just flipped around and on its own simply propelled itself straight into his hand through the skin. (You know this age, right?) ("I didn't do it, Mom!)

Hands being the germy places they are, this was starting to look infected. Now of course they had to see him, gosh forbid we over-prescribe antibiotics. (I know, I do actually believe that, but my vast pediatric experience completely qualifies me as a professional and, hello, it's infected.) So we're there. Waiting. And waiting. R pulls his usual hiding routine. "I'm going to hide in this corner (behind the table) and just tell the doctor that I went to Florida." "No, wait, tell her I went to Australia." Now we're talking, I may consider crawling down there if that's where we're going.

So far this is the typical office visit. Until Dr. T. comes in (of course not our usual pediatrician, she's smart enough to be at home already). In a fairly quick and completely concise series of questions and answers my son has just completed the office visit on his own. Took care of it all. And I just sat there.

Beautiful.

What a tangled web we weave.

No, that's not what's pictured at the right...we'll get to that in a minute. So, where did all this kookiness come from? Am I supposed to twitter instant thoughts to my brother, call for a playdate for one of the kids on a land line, poke a friend at facebook, text my sister, blog an experience of the day, email my mom, call my brother on my mobile phone, write a note to one of the kids' teachers, yell upstairs to my husband and sit down for coffee with a friend? Or should I just walk outside and scream at the top of my lungs?

I mean, seriously. Mr. President can keep his BlackBerry, I support that decision. But does adding that to his mix make his insides feel as frantic and crazed as mine? I really don't think I need to talk to this many people this much of the time. I value my friends...a lot. But I'm realizing that I really value the sound of their voices. And looking them in the eye for an actual, honest to goodness c-o-n-v-e-r-s-a-t-i-o-n. One that lasts longer than 140 characters. (Thanks, MM!)

I will get to have some really great conversations with G tomorrow. When she's home. From school. With strep (see above right).

Oh, wait, did I mention in about a month and a half I'll finally have an iPhone?

Fired up and ready to go.

The buzz of a victory! Who says I'm not a team player? Okay, maybe I'm the only one who has ever uttered those words, but there's nothing like being a part of a victorious team. This particular team was quite special. Eight members -- more than sets foot on the hardwood, less than the gridiron. Each member of this team had a very distinct, well-defined purpose. I knew mine. I executed mine. In the execution was really where the buzz started.

Campaigns are truly their own animal. After the handful that I have participated in you really start to feel the rhythm, to know the drill. Having the knowledge and the experience and the ability to be one step ahead, it's just a rush. This campaign was short and sweet -- a fencing match perhaps? The distinct formula was set forth by my very dear friend and let me tell you -- she knows her stuff. She coached this group of eight with all the plays memorized, all the statistics at her disposal, all the tricks up her sleeve. She deserves to be in the campaign hall of fame.

So bring 'em on...this team player's ready.

Womb with a view.

First of all, seeing all the past Presidents together was a kick. Why wouldn't they ever get together? Our new President is so smart. Perhaps they can schedule the next breakfast meeting when you know W.ho is at the ranch writing his book (a funny enough story on its own).

So, tonight. Larry King Live, Jimmy Carter as guest. They showed a clip of some recent event where Old George Bush relayed this story: "We thought we were being sneaky and sending a decoy limousine out but as we came around a corner I saw the ugliest, angriest woman I had ever seen. Now, I don't know why the Secret Service let her get so close to the car, but she came right up to my window and held a sign 'Stay out of my womb!' Hey, NO PROBLEM, lady!"

Then Bill Clinton gets up: "See, I could never tell that joke. Could you imagine the field day you all would have with that one."

On our way to the National Portrait Gallery.

Okay, maybe not "our" way. But he is on his way. Shepard Fairey's collaged poster of his original portrait was hung in the National Portrait Gallery last Tuesday. This street artist, in this place. It's really amazing. This image was reproduced in so many different ways throughout the campaign, and beyond, and really became a defining image of the future president. Heck, it's on our minivan. I only saw one version that was completely tasteless (thanks, bro) but everyone else really seemed to have fun with it.

So, of course when a dear friend passed along a website, I embraced ombamaicon immediately! Even though I may be able to manipulate Photoshop and get an image somewhat like this, maybe, possibly, here is this amazing tool that does it in seconds! Voila! I'm an icon!

"Mom, you just look really weird."

Go to your room...

On the road to somewhere, surely.

Can we use that phrase yet? "On the road to nowhere." "The bridge to nowhere." Can we use that without harming ourself thinking of SP, who is now just really a celebrity in her own mind. Oh, wait, she gets the last laugh with her bizillion dollar book deal. Sigh.

So with 20+ minutes on the torture-mill-to-nowhere this morning, I had time to think about the goings on over the weekend. "I really don't like princesses anymore, Mom." Thank God. We had tried to paint princesses in a positive light -- they're strong! they're powerful! they can rule a whole kingdom with one arm tied behind their back!

Okay, so no princesses. However, G did mention that she will send me many drawings from college. Every day. Awesome! But, oh, wait. Our President's weekly address (have you been to the newly redesigned White House web site? It's fabulous!) promises to "triple the number of fellowships in science to help spur the next generation of innovation."

That's great! Let's be a scientist! And really and truly she was the one over the weekend that got out the science "experience" (that's too cute to correct) book and did her own experiment creating her own lava lamp. Now that's innovative, right? And a lot of artists I know also have a keen interest in science (thanks for the role model, Leonardo).

But let's not forget the "innovation" part of all of this. There's the key. There's your path to take, your road to follow.

Creatives, the world is yours for the taking.

...and wear comfortable shoes.

I've been holding my breath again. I know what's happening today, but until just a few minutes ago I realized I was holding my breath like I was all day on November 4. It's time to exhale. It's time to smile. It's time to start putting things into place. It's time to wrap up in a warm blanket and park it in front of the television for an amazing day. Unless you are going to the event itself...then hopefully you heeded the very astute recommendations. "Those attending the Inauguration are advised to dress warm and wear comfortable shoes."

From the looks of it, these people could be stark naked and not give a flip. It's go day.

there's hope for us all yet

Mom. Mom. Mom...

They should really call them "sits." You don't stand, you sit.

Mark my words, I think C is going to save us all. Maybe next time I'll pay attention the first time he calls me...

Due to the current economic condition, we are cancelling all fun.

So we get our "Monday Memo" yesterday from our kids' school. Blah, blah, yeah, yeah, WHAT???? "We have chosen to eliminate the table decorating contest for this year." What in the hell are they talking about???!!! So we have this annual trivia night for our elementary school and it's our biggest fundraiser so it's a big deal. Part of the deal has always been you have a theme for your table of 8 participants. You decorate your table, or eliminate your table and sit around a faux campfire; you dress up in interesting outfits or costumes and it's fun and kooky and silly and crazy. Because, come on, like it's really about the trivia. So here we are two years ago -- Deal or No Deal -- right? We get one of our handsome men to dress like a gorgeous woman and it's a hit. Studio 54 walked around last year with mirrors and razor blades and....powdered sugar or whatever. It's just all, again, silly because why the heck not?! And now we're just supposed to come and sit around and listen to trivial stuff and, oh, now we'll have more time to look at all the auction items and bid and bid and bid and donate lots of money to the school! You know, with all those savings from not decorating your table. Wait. Donate? Lots of money? "Due to the current economic situation, we expect donations this year to be down from previous years." What's that you say? You're right! The economy stinks. Completely in the crapper. There's no way I can run around and bid and bid and bid and spend money I don't have! What if I lose my job? What if I'm already unemployed? Thank god you reminded me. After I call to cancel cable, I guess I'll stay home that night and have a can of soup and watch 30 Rock.....now that's fun.

nice in nine

So the feature article in today's "Week in Review" section of The New York Times is titled "Play Nice." So, here we go again with one of our family themes for oh-nine. The question posed is will Barack invoke the "let's all play nice together" theme in his inaugural address. But the point is -- all presidents in recent history, at least, have promised that very thing. And is that what we want from our agent of change? I guess we could be nice about it, but could we please kick it? Already some of the choices at the inauguration itself seems too....well....nice. We fervent supporters are not really actually all that tolerant of the "other one"s. However, since we have managed to bring the political process up close and personal with our children, I guess we'll have to....be....nice. I hope we can.

no whine in 09

Over the break, after Christmas had come and gone, we were brainstorming our mottos for the next year. I wonder why, but the very first one thrown out there was "No Whine in '09." Are you getting a sense for a common sound in our home? A "pest" we'd like "exterminated?" The other one, which also makes a nice logo, is "Nice in Nine." That's very...nice...but not as punchy. So a week or so goes by, it's dinnertime, and C says, "Mom, I thought you said NO WINE IN 09!!!" Which is, most definitely, not what I said.

the eighth day of nine

drive kids to school, pick up husband from auto repair shop, drive to grocery store, secure groceries and prescriptions, drive home, put away perishables, check email, change clothes for the Y, drive to Y, work out, drive to the galleria, find great sale at the gap and get friend's birthday present, go to anthropologie where you originally wanted to buy friend's birthday present, see really wonderful things that you wish you could buy, glad you found something for your friend somewhere else cha-ching, drive to target, secure lots of home goods, drive to whole foods, secure some organic food, drive home, put away perishables, bring in all bags from target, check email, create ad for client, send pdf to client, drop off husband at auto repair shop, drive to pick up kids from school, bring home one extra friend, fight urge to take nap, make dinner for everyone else, drive to pick up one birthday friend, drive to pick up another birthday friend, drive to pick up third friend, drive to restaurant, have a wonderful three hours of cava, tapas and laughs, drive friends home, put on pjs, blog for the first time in over a year.