There's something a little off here

I like to think that the girls and I are fun and sorta cool. But lately? It's becoming clear that we might be more weird than cool. I'll blame Portland since it's nice to have a scapegoat (and there are bumper stickers on every other car that say "Keep Portland Weird"). Regardless, several indicators have been flashing the strange sign lately and I can't ignore them:


1) You know those little rings that you pull out of the nozzle of the half 'n half (or juice or whatever carton)? We wash and save them in our house because Belly and Buggy like to wear them as rings. The other day we went to the park and they both had four on a hand, like brass knuckles except white plastic. Cool? No. Weird.

2) A few nights ago when it was time to get out of the tub, naked Bug climbed into naked Belly's lap and the two of them started giggling. Belly proudly announced, "I'm holding Bug like a baby!" And with that, Buggy tried to nurse on Belly. We had to pull them off each other. Weirdos.

3) We have a tickle basket. You know those big Moses baskets that are given to you when you have a newborn and you maybe use it once or twice until you realize that it's wholly impractical? Yeah, we've got one, too. Except anyone who climbs in ours gets tickled mercilessly. I've only been in it once because I really do not like to be tickled, but the girls give it a whirl about once a day. As they've gotten older, they tickle each other now. I thought it was cool, but I've had several adults comment, "A tickle basket? Huh." So I guess that means... weird.

4) The weird straw that broke the camel's back? The other morning, the girls ate pesto eggs and a banana for breakfast. The Bug said she was still hungry. She wanted a donut. Um, yeah. There are no donuts here. I offered a breakfast bar. She said no. I offered an English muffin. She said no. I opened the cupboard. I pulled out a big box of Joe's O's and asked if she wanted cereal. She looked at me funny. Oh. My. God. My girls can identify capers in a piccata sauce. They ask to be taken out for sushi. But they haven't had cereal (not counting that baby cereal gruel stuff). I poured them each a small bowl. I asked if they wanted to eat it dry without milk or with milk and a spoon. Again, the quizzical looks. As I watched, they gobbled down two bowls of dry cereal like it was a handmade sweet corn agnolotti with shaved truffles. Sigh. I have to take on all the weird in this instance. What kind of mother never gave her toddlers cereal? Yep. That's right. You got it.

Make it work

I had one of those nights of sleep last night wherein I wake up a dozen times, but every time I fall asleep again, I go back to the dream I'd been having and keep going with it. I was just thinking the other day that it's been a long time since I've had a dream I remember. This particular dream, though, I remember very well, in full color.


I was nominated for an Emmy and desperately needed a dress to wear. So, the morning of the awards, I went to my good friend Heidi Klum and asked if I could borrow something. I mean, she had TONS of dresses, right? Right. She said sure, but she had a full day of hair and makeup and I would be on my own to raid her closet.

Did you know Heidi Klum and Seal and all their kids live in a gigantic, sprawling ranch house? Yep. It was like a ranch house with wing after wing after wing. I got lost a couple times, but knew that if I just turned around and walked far enough, I'd be back in familiar surroundings. But I digress.

Heidi had several giant rooms that comprised her closet and all of her clothes were hanging by type, length and color. I went to the dress room. It became obvious pretty quickly that I'd be wearing a short dress. Even though I could probably get myself into her size (she's curvy like me), I can't fake the height - not even with big ol' heels on. I started going through the several hundred short dresses that hung around the room.

I thought this would be an easy task. Heidi always looks great. Surely I'd be able to find something simple and elegant and be on my way in no time - after all, I needed to come up with a hair and makeup plan, too. Oh I was so wrong. Every dress I pulled out and tried on had something totally bizarre about it. The hem was unfinished. The sleeves were odd and varying lengths. There were puckers where there shouldn't be puckers. A sudden rash of neon sequins appeared after the dress was on, even though I hadn't noticed them previously. I noted all of these things aloud. I started to sound very much like Nina Garcia - sorta bitchy.

Dude came in to wake me at 7:15a this morning. I was bummed. In my groggy half-sleep, I didn't know what I was gonna do because I still didn't have a dress. And then I woke up all the way. I had to get going if I was gonna shower this morning.

The strangest part of my dream? I was going to the Emmy's because my reality show had been nominated for a number of awards. The past season had been particularly exciting with many unexpected twists and turns. What reality show, you ask? Oh. Why that would be my reality. Real reality. I'd had no idea that I was being filmed this whole year, but that didn't matter because the world had been watching and they loved it.

What does it all mean??

A day of no importance whatsoever

Today was not a day that will be especially noted in the history books. It wasn't a family birthday or anniversary. The girls did not become potty trained overnight (in fact, I changed FOUR poopers between the two of them - ugh). No crazy inheritance came our way. No winning lottery numbers. I didn't even make a fabulous dinner. It was just a day. But I was struck over and over by what big girls I have. They kept saying stuff that made me smile.


Belly: "I love you very much, Mom. No really."

Bug: Noticing that I was making dinner, "What are we having?"
"Taco salad."
"Taco salad? Yes or no?"
"Yes."
"Yes or no?"
"Yes."
"Yes or no?"
"No."
"Yes. Taco salad."

Belly: "No, Mama. I'm not a solid little kid. I'm a girl."

Bug: "Oops. Sorry. I pooped. Change my diaper. I'll say 'oooooh stinky!' when you change it."

Belly: After helping me put away four bags of groceries, "There, Mom. Now go take a break."

Oh for real, friends. They are funny and fun. They make me insane and proud. I love them more than cheese pups.