Let me tell you why I'm a cheeseball. A complete, hopeless, buttered-nut cheeseball.

Last night, when I told Spence he had one minute 'til bedtime, he patted my arm & said softly, "That's gonna be a looong time, Mommy." And I melted.

This morning, Nathaniel told me I looked nice today. Made my day. :)

And just now, I pulled out all the stops & did a little happy dance at having been named...Ready?...The highest bidder for some John Denver music on Ebay. Cassette tapes.

And that, ladies & gentlemen, is a rough outline of just exactly how big of a pushover, pantywaist, loser of a cheeseball I truly am. There is a word to describe me, & that word is...Nerd. Or, in the neo-slang alternative, nizzerd. Please address me appropriately.

Ah, Friday, we meet again. Tonight marks the third Family Movie Night at the boys' daycare, so we expect another peaceful evening in a quiet setting. HA!! We fully expect to once again see, key word "see," another old cartoon flick, since hearing anything but a full-out screaming contest is out of the question. You see, when children gather in large numbers, it is their civic duty to contribute to the din as much as physically possible. A tea-time soiree this isn't.

Monsters, Inc., I believe, is the feature for this evening, and I'm having a helluva time explaining to Spence the oxymoron of "friendly monsters." It's a bit over my head, too, darling. You see, these horrific creatures' job is to scare the living daylights out of small children...But it's Ok, really it is, because...Disney says so.

And so, for the sake of tradition and making nice with fellow parents, we'll pack it all up and head out to the auditorium, hoping to leave with just the slightest scrap of sanity still intact. Wish us luck.

So the old man & I went out for a little of the green swill this past weekend. I honestly can't remember when the last time was that St. Patrick's Day fell on a Saturday, and apparently neither could anyone else, because the bars were packed. Holy geez. Care to dance, anyone? Too bad. There's a reason sardines can't dance.

But before you get the wrong impression, let me just say that it went splendidly. My best girlfriend put together an absolutely wonderful evening, including the extremely Irish hibachi steakhouse dinner, followed by drinks at the pub where she met her new man friend (lovely man, by the way, hang on to him, Tiff, even if he doesn't sing karaoke), and the kicker was how cheap the cab ride home was! Definitely do-able. Watch out, girl, we may be crashing every get-together in the future. Who knew it was less than $20 to get schlepped from the sticks to the city?

So, although I neglected to catch The Flying Shrimp Spectaculaire when the hopped-up Asian chef dude winged it at me, and I physically could not dance (besides a rousing rendition of the Irish jig), I did manage to thoroughly enjoy myself. The old man agrees, continuing to "date" while raising children is a must in any relationship. The fundamental base of the family rests squarely on the health of our relationship, no? So, you see, it is absolutely essential to raise a glass to ol' St. Patty, that patron saint of green beer, every now & again. Cheers.

Happy Friday, dear reader(s)! It's been a very long week indeed.

Julian, I'm proud to report, has been doing splendiferously in his new room at daycare. This morning, for the first time, he even leaned towards the teacher's outstretched arms while still perched on my hip. That's fine, baby, just take your mother's heart out & stomp on it. I'm kidding, partially, I mean I do want him to be happy & comfortable with his new teachers, in his new surroundings...Could you just wait 'til I'm out of the room to profess your affection for them?? I mean really. Just call me Chop Liver.

And the Spencinator is doing fine. My current gripe with him is this nose-wiping thing. His shirt, by the end of the day, looks like a road map to Crazytown, snot and that day's lunch from wrist to elbow. Gross, honey! He is easily within a half-dozen steps from a tissue at any given point throughout the day. Why, baby, WHY?? I suppose I should be counting my lucky stars that we've steered him away from nose-picking, infinitely worse in a public scenario, but still. The nose-wiping thing has got to go.

On my own front, the office has hired an additional 2 attorneys, with no mention of their support, so I suppose I'll be juggling their secretarial needs for a while. Which is fine, I actually prefer to be busy, makes the time fly by. One attorney, two attorney, three attorneys, four. Five attorneys, six attorneys, seven attorneys more. See, it clearly hasn't affected my mental state. Not at all.

So c'mooon, weekend! This particular weekend, I'll be shoe-shopping and meeting my best girlfriend's new "man friend." My only qualifiers are that he drink socially, play board games, and sing karaoke. Should be a shoo-in.

Well, dear reader(s), I'm off. May your weekend(s) be fruitful, safe, and full of relaxation. And karaoke.

In addition to carrying out the roles of nurse, chauffer, etc., I’m considering branching out into the fashion industry. Motherhood is screaming for a new trend. Allow me to introduce…Pantaloons!

Pantaloons, which is of course baby talk for “pants,” will become all the newest rage on the motherhood circuit, you watch. These slacks come in a wide variety of colors and fabrics, and sport what every mother of a toddler desperately needs…A design into which snot and drool can blend. Now these reminders of exactly how tall your toddler is and how many times he or she hugged you around the knees that morning won’t have to be scrubbed away! Because let’s face it, they really can’t ever be wiped entirely away. Trail of Tears, indeed.

So step right up, sign here and be pre-approved for your very first pair of Pantaloons! Coming soon.