I have a a dirty little secret

While I've confessed on this blog to things such as trying to tuck my stomach in to my jeans and the possibility of having an addiction to wine and Ben & Jerry's ice cream, I've kept something from you.

My 7 year old daughter had been sleeping next to our bed for the past oh, year and a half. She has a perfectly adorable room with skylights! And bunk-beds! And more snuggly stuffed animals than FAO Shwartz! But she was "scared". Now, this may come as a shock to some of you, but I MIGHT baby my daughter a tiny bit. But damn, she's so cute and sweet and snuggly, and she's my only kid. So I (WE...thank you David for tolerating me and my child's neurosis...) allowed her to lay a sleeping back next to my side of the bed, thinking she'd be uncomfortable and eventually make her way back into her nice, warm, soft (because I even bought her a FEATHER BED for gods sake to make it that much more attractive) bed. But no. She layered blankets and comforters and other sleeping bags under her make-shift sleeping area next to my side of the bed...and I may have even helped her a little bit. What?? I wanted her to be comfortable. Plus, she loooooves me. And as time went on, more and more (and more) of her stuffed animals made their way into our bedroom until it was ridiculous even to ME. I could not get into or out of my side of the bed without stepping on a sleeping child or a gigantic stuffed tiger.

Finally, I'd had it. Ok, the truth is that on the way to Priest Lake, Nichole and Martin were stopping by to see our house for the first time since we moved in and I just couldn't let Nichole see that I allow Anna to sleep next to me. Because Nichole is perfect (in a good way!) and her daughter, who is a year younger than Anna, is also perfect: she sleeps in her own bed (without her stuffies!) and participates in every extra-curricular activity you can imagine AND she has memorized the entire Encyclopedia Britannica. In Russian. Ok, that last part might be a slight exaggeration, but just barely. Really, she's spectacular. Anyway, I couldn't stand it and I dismantled the entire set up.

And then I hid under the bed rocking myself gently and sucking my thumb, because I knew that when Anna realized what I'd done, it was not going to be pretty.

And it's true, she was, um, slightly upset. But I just explained that it was TIME. That she is stronger than she seems and braver than she thinks and she can DO it. Then we went to work making the bottom bunk a cool little "nest" with some pretty floral fabric that she picked out up above her(so she wasn't staring at the ugly brown stuff that is under the top bunk). I printed up lots and lots of photographs of all her favorite people and put them on the wall right next to her and made sure all her favorite animals were around her...and she's slept there ALL NIGHT, 9 HOURS for the past several nights.

That's right. And it only took me 6 years longer than it should have.

Priest Lake

Just look at this amazing place! Priest Lake is just so beautiful and unspoiled. You don't see ANY of the ridiculous McMansion cabins like you see on Payette Lake. There is little private land on Priest, for one thing, and I guess they must have very strict regulations (imagine that!) because even the private cabins are small and subtle. Maybe the people up here don't feel the need to outdo their neighbors. I dunno. Anyway, it's gorgeous.

We had so much fun. I just adore both Christina and Nichole, David and Martin enjoyed each other and the kids just played and played and played. There was great food, great music, lots of wine and some crazy wild-ass dancing Saturday night. Martin and David got the slightest glimpse into our "Mom's Gone Wild" antics, although we had to keep it fairly tame as there were children (and men) present! As if I needed more proof that it is time to get my ass moving, I am actually SORE from the dancing. Sweet baby jeebus.


Even the dogs had fun, running through the brush and trees and playing in the water. Poor Moby was dog tired when we got home.

We've already booked a cabin for Mothers Day next year!

neener neener neener

As much as I'd love to leave that embarrassing story about my sister up on my blog forever, I just have to gloat that we are going up to Priest Lake this weekend! Priest Lake is an impossibly beautiful and unspoiled mountain lake in N. Idaho. We are staying at Elkins Resort which is one of those old log-cabin resorts built in the 50s and it hasn't changed much. Except the cabins have been updated and the restaurant serves fantastic food. The dining room has floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the lake, and there are hummingbird feeders all around the eves, every couple of feet. It's the kind of place where you walk to the little store barefoot and get an icecream sandwhich and then go sit on the tree-stump bench and enjoy the view. It's so lovely. Priest Lake is known for its Huckleberries; the resaurant serves Huckleberry Blintzes. Huckleberry Blintzes, people. Is it wrong to have them for breakfast, lunch and dinner? I think not.


Last year David and I went on Mother's Day weekend; due to our schedule Anna was with her dad that weekend and I wanted to be anywhere but home feeling sorry for myself. But we had such a nice time that I told all my friends and now Mother's Day weekend at Priest Lake is going to be one of our new traditions. Christina and her girls are coming (not her hubby; he's busy shooting Johnnie Depp's new movie...hhmmpph. I told them that Johnnie could come too...) and Nichole and her family are coming from Seattle.

I am so excited!!! I'll take photos and post on Monday. Happy weekend and HAPPY MOTHER'S DAY everyone!!

she's no Hudini

Ok, this part I'm ashamed to admit, but I was just watching an episode of Hannah Montana (familiar to anyone with a daughter ages 6-12) and something reminded me of what I think has to be my all-time FAVORITE story:

A couple of years ago, my sister Lala was living with the man she would soon marry in a small, VEEEERRRRRY rustic cabin in the Boise foothills. He was a geologist and it was a sweet, intentionally simple life. They had no running water, no electricity and the place was surrounded by hundreds (if not thousands) of acres of BLM land, criss-crossed by miles upon miles of very popular mountain biking and hiking trails.

Every morning Lala would get ready for work, hop into her 4-wheel drive and began her commute to work, which involved driving down a twisty, muddy, trecherous road, at the bottom of which was a BLM gate. This particular day she was running late. She stopped to unlock the gate, pulled her truck through and hopped out to close and lock the gate with the padlock as always....and when she turned to hurry back to her truck, she realized she had inadvertantly "locked" herself to the gate with the padlock! Now, there was no one around for miles. Her truck was running nearby, with the key to the padlock attached to her keychain which was, of course, in the ignition. She had NO IDEA what to do. Amazingly enough, her cell-phone was attached to her belt. Now, I have no idea why, but she used her cell phone to call ME, even though I live in another state (god love her, she knew I would laugh my ass off, and she gave me that). "You won't believe what I've just done" she started. "What should I do?? Should I start yelling really loudly and hope that a mountain-biker comes along to get the keys out of my truck so that I can unlock this stupid padlock??" I listened patiently and then asked what (to me) seemed like a logical question: "Well, um, what are you wearing? What, exactly, is locked to the gate??" With that, she started laughing hysterically. Because what she had failed to realize, in her state of panic, was that the padlock had caught her CARDIGAN SWEATER. So all she had to do was take the sweater off, walk to her truck, get the keys and unlock HER SWEATER.

Oh, man. I am NEVER going to let her live that one down.

and another thing:

by the time the American government has extricated itself from Iraq and Afghanistan, the war efforts in the Middle East will have cost in excess of 3 TRILLION dollars.

Few of us can wrap our brains around that figure, so consider this explanation that I just saw in the new edition of Vanity Fair:

If someone gave you 3 trillion dollars and told you that you had to spend $100 million every day, 7 days a week, 365 days a year, and not to come back until you'd spent every single penny, it would take you a little over 82 YEARS. Think about that: $100 million a day, for 82 years. How are we EVER going to recover from this mess?

And to think the John McCain is willing to keep our troops over there for "150 years if necessary."

Remind me: WHY is Iraq our problem??

Hmm...why didn't they think of this?

My friend Rod sent this to me, but I've forgotten how to embed video into my blog, despite the fact that I managed to do so the other day. Anyway, go watch THIS video.

And then ask yourself WHY we aren't impeaching the sitting president.

for my hypothetically challenged readers

OK, you simpletons. Regarding my last post, I was talking about Witchie Poo, (my ex-husband's girlfriend). Translation: "What kind of person (WP) would stop by the lemonade stand of your boyfriend's (Eric) 7 yr. old daughter (Anna) and take lemonade but not pay for it? While that child's own mother (ME) paid $3 for two small cups?" Get it? Forgive my attempt at subtlety; I promise never to make that mistake again.

Ahem. Moving on. Here! Look at some pretty aprons I whipped up this weekend! That shouldn't hurt your brains too much. :)


I found the butterfly fabric (bottom photo) and fell in love with it but didn't know what to do with it, but it's perfect for a kitschy little apron, no? The plan is to give these to two of my dear friends when we all get together this weekend for Mothers' Day...but I loooove them both so much (the aprons. Although I love my friends too) that I'm not sure I can part with them.

What? I'm a mother too!