I shouldn't even post because I am in such a snit over such snitty things right now. Too annoyed by big cars, bigger houses, materialistic, boring people, and sucky music. (Luckily, I am listening a lot to non-sucky music, and am eager for the new Arcade Fire release, so all is not lost on that front.) Yesterday, for instance, after running all over creation to take my children to their (very limited and well-chosen) activities (which all seem to happen on a Tuesday...why is that? Other days we have nothing going on at all!), I sat down and had a brief breather. I was looking forward to one-on-one time with my daughter at dinner, because my husband and son were going to watch the Stanley Cup champions lose again.

Then, as soccer practice ended, I am given the task of waiting with the girl whose mom hasn't shown up yet. Why? Because I AM THE ONLY PARENT WHO GOT OUT OF HER CAR. So I wait, and then the poor girl attempts to make conversation, and reveals that she is the youngest of four, but not for long, because her MOM IS PREGNANT. At this point in the story I'm starting now to see what is about to happen to me. The girl borrows my cell phone, calls her mom, who asks to speak to me. The mom left a message for the coach that he must not have gotten (BECAUSE HE WAS AT SOCCER PRACTICE MAYBE??). And she has to run a carpool down to the basketball gym (where I had just been).

I wait for option 2 to come. It doesn't.

I offer to take the girl home. I don't know her mom, don't even know her last name. I get directions and drive to her house.

Which is huge. And I find out the dad is a doctor. And there is a lovely, brand-new shiny car in the driveway.

And I wonder: how is it going to go when you have another baby? Also, why not hire a nanny or babysitter to help you, as you can clearly afford to do? Because lady, you put me in a foul mood, messed up my evening, and caused my daughter to ask questions about why OUR car is so old, our house so small, etc.

I'm just about over all the excess that I see around me every day, but I know there is no avoiding it. I must change my reaction to it. I'll do that, but for now let me stew a bit in my own bitterness.

This shit happens every day for all of us, I know. But I myself have learned yeah, it takes a village, but to take care of your own is a brilliant thing.

You won't believe me, but my husband and I called all of the marquee AMPAS awards last night. We very well may have won my college friend Mark's 14th annual Oscar contest. (Again...I won circa 1994)

As for fashions, I know I gave up celebrity news, but I just wanted to glimpse the gowns a bit more closely so I've looked at the NYTimes page. I promise not to watch Access or buy an Us Weekly. I promise.

We had a grand weekend with brother-in-law and sister-in-law, including fun dinners out, walks and talks, munchkin basketball, munchkin musical theatre, and of course Oscar-watching. My SIL and daughter were quite opinionated about the fashions. I gleaned many of my comments below from listening in on their discussions:

I hated Jennifer Hudson's jacket...wrong, wrong, wrong for her body type; I secretly liked Kirsten Dunst's thing though wish Anne Hathaway had worn it; God love Meryl Streep and I mean that in a good way; Helen Mirren is a goddess; Reece and Maggie were great; Beyonce not my fave though at least it wasn't strapless; if it had to be strapless I vote for Jada Pinkett Smith.

(And Clooney and Daniel Craig were delish as always...and Clive, baby!)...but I'm not really looking...I just fell upon that picture...)

What did I give up for Lent last year? I know it was alcohol the year prior. I can't remember at all.

This year it will be celebrity gossip. I cannot imagine how boring I am about to become.

The fact that Lent is the only Christian season I really buy into says something very deranged about me, I think. Perhaps I need an indulgence of some sort.

Actually, today I bought some shoes. On sale, but shoes I did buy.

"No, I like it fine. I'm just not overwhelmed with love for it like I thought I might be."

"But you were a huge fan of Battlestar Galactica back in the day!"

Thus, our little experiment is over and we STILL don't have any new shows to watch.

Meh. Today I miss the little boogers.

And I have a slight cold....sheesh.

It's not that I don't love my children, I do. And, unlike most every other friend of mine, I am rarely without them. I hire sitters infrequently, I fret when my children are at Grandma's, and I don't go anywhere on weekend days or in the afternoons without my brood. I've been on three girls' weekends total since they were born, and away with my husband twice. I'm no hero, I just like to be with my family.

But six days of staying home with them is enough.

I've gotten where I really like my time when they are at school. I feel like a better person when they come home and much more eager to spend the copious amounts of time with them that I do. I like working out. A lot, and whenever I want. I miss volunteering at school, I miss grocery shopping for healthy meals. I even miss missing them. Which I do, but not enough to homeschool or anything.

It's a tough time of year anyway, and now add to this the illness, the missed school and catch-up work thus piled on, and the bad weather (that is luckily ending...we're going to have a warm-up this week)...at least I have Hawaii to fall back upon. Admire the 20-footers.

Happy Valentine's Day! Mine has been bleak due to the illness and vomit-cleaning and paying thousands of dollars to heating and air concerns. But the children are sweet to me and to each other, my hubby brought me a lava rock flower plant (presented with a comforting poem in which he rhymed "ca-ca" with "shaka"), and only three children showed up to choir tonight! So not so bad all in all.

For those scrambling for some Valentine's fun tonight, here's a very Mimi Smartypants holiday plan:

All that Christian propaganda to the contrary, Valentine's Day was originally a sexy Roman fuckfest, the original Ice-Storm-esque key party, and thus the entire holiday is about pleasure and should be celebrated as such. You do not need to be partnered to indulge either. Throw some conversation hearts into a bottle of vodka (thus forming CONVERSATION VODKA) and load up your favorite porn.

Fun! Maureen Dowd, she who is a Bush-hating, feminist-loving, popular columnist, has lashed out against chick lit. And in time, too....call it Valentine's Syndrome, or my weariness at my current bedside challenge, or a general post-Hawaii malaise, but I lingered for two seconds longer than I should have at the brightly colored chick lit table at our library today. I'm not saying a girl can't lurve Bridget, but I like Dowd's point that the marketing seems a bit unfair. Read some responses here: mediabistro.com: GalleyCat

So many of you have called and written to ask me if I'm excited about The Police and their reunion and tour. Well, I am! I didn't ever get to see them because I was grounded for making a "C" on my report card, despite having tickets to their Atlanta date, circa 1985. My boyfriend at the time, Stephen Schieneman, saw them at the Omni the night I was to go and goaded me the day after in the parking lot of Central High School. I'll never forget him doing that, and I may never forgive my parents for not letting me go. For that, and for keeping me from seeing the Tom Petty/Lone Justice pairing that same year. How am I going to parent effectively in the future with that kind of background?? My children will be able to talk me into anything musical at this point. Starting now, perhaps...

We went shopping today to replace our newish mattress that was a non-flippable type and sounded like one was rolling over on a bag of potato chips every time we turned. The Mattress Police had to come check out our crap replacement and they said that the mattress was a dud and they gave us money to get another one.

So off we went. We took our son, because he is in that bed as much as we are, what with his evening reading time and his morning snuggle time and his middle of the night needing-comfort time. To find the perfect mattress, I was on my right side, my husband was on his back, and my son was in the middle, making farting noises and kicking us with a swift confidence every 20 seconds or so. It was as realistic a test run as we're going to get.

It's not that I want to watch more tv, its that I can't seem to hold my own in conversations with my friends and family if I don't. So my husband and I took an evening to do something a bit unusual, in this house anyway, and we sat on our asses for about three hours tuned into the networks.

We watched:

"Ugly Betty": Ok, I get it. Clever, and I love America Ferrera, and I do think Vanessa L. Williams is really pretty, really! But I can't commit - the show is an hour and whilst it was more engaging to me than "Weeds", say, I just don't know how aghast I would be after a time. I like to be aghast.

"The Office": This is brilliant, and I want to watch, and probably will in complete seasons via Netflix or my new video iPod (someday?). I like all the actors, I think it is cute and clever and a bit painful - all I really need in a sitcom.

"Scrubs": No one ever talks about this show, but I know you watch it all you Garden State groupies. Witty repartee and topical subjects...I think it is a good show and thus worthy of the uh, lack of hype.

"30 Rock": Tina Fey is adorable but I thought Alec Baldwin was writing it in and the witty repartee reminded me of "Scrubs".

"South Park": It's time I came out of my closet (like Tom Cruise and John Travolta did in a recent episode) and admit that we love this show. It is grimy and yicky and I often must shower after to wash away the filth, but watching it made the three hours seem less like ten that night.

"The Sarah Silverman Program": We've seen two episodes now, and whilst I don't think it is the answer to all that is wrong with television like the New Yorker does, I don't hate it either (as the Gawker and Stereogum kids do). I like the gay couple a lot, and I see where she's trying to go, and I do think she's pretty hittable in addition to being an acerbic comedienne who likes to use words like "queef" and shoot birds a lot.

We also rented "The L Word" from Netflix, having not been wowed by "Weeds". (The show is ok, we just think all the people are evil, and we also think Mary Louise Parker is good but maybe a one-trick pony in the show? Ah...I'm going to get some flack for all this) I thought "The L Word" might....you know, lift my husband's spirits some. His main comment however, was: "Talk, talk, talk". I took that to mean "too much talk, not enough girl-on-girl action". Eh - I didn't care. Jenny Beals is HOT!!