Thanks a lot, Mr. Pollan!

For the past couple of weeks, "The Omnivore's Dilemma" has been on my coffee table. When I have a minute, I'll sit down with cup of coffee and read a few pages. Usually, I read books in a couple of hours, but not this one. There's a lot to take in.

For one thing, if the film "Supersize Me" didn't get you, or "Food, Inc." didn't put you off your Quarterpounder habit, "The Omnivore's Dilemma" with finish off any urge to ever eat at the Golden Arches again.  Not even for the french fries, which is a powerful statement, right there.

Pollan's descriptions of the industrial beef process is gut-wrenching. Then factor in the cruelty, and the health hazards, and I really can't see EVER buying anything but grass-fed, free-range beef again.

And I'm only on the 6th chapter.

One of the reasons I married him

"Hmm. I dreamed about Mario Bateli and Henry Kissinger."

"New cooking show?"

The "Yummy Mummies" or How I Have Become What I Despised

I can't really decide if I'm a hypocrite or merely have more insight into the lives of housewives in California.

When first I moved to the Central Coast, I couldn't believe how pampered the moms on the school run looked. Manicured nails, salon tans, artfully streaked and cut hair, expensive exercise togs, diamonds the size of gobstoppers, fer cryin' out loud!. I just had two step-kids at the time, and I was lucky to get my hair combed before I walked 'em to school.

Today, heading back to my minivan after walking the wee lassies to class, I looked down and admired my pretty, red-painted toes. Then I thought about my hair appointment next week. I pondered the linen sun dress I was wearing and how the color suited my tan. Suddenly, and with horror,  I realized I had become one of the high-maintainance stay-at-home-moms I used to look down my nose at.

Maybe this was my working-class snobbery coming back to bite me on the butt. I mean, I'm not that high-maintainance. My one indulgence is a pedicure; after chasing rambunctious twins, washing endless dirty dishes and folding countless mounds of clean laundry, the foot rub is very soothing. The cute little black sandals I picked up for less than 4 bucks at Target. The dress I've had for years and it's comfy. I've been getting inexpensive haircuts and haven't had a color weave in over a year.

So, am I taking care of myself or am I an over-indulged wife? Taking time to take care of myself is important, right? Or is this a justification? Is money spent on pedicures, flattering clothing and hair color a waste?

Thoughts?

Trip to the Pumpkin Patch

No, *that* was the worst night's sleep in recorded parental history..... a.k.a. Night Terrors!

Clearly, I have offended the gods. Or perhaps I unknowingly ran over a leprechaun. The pixies must be angry. Something.

Yesterday, the girls had a very busy and very exciting day. First, they went to church with Daddy; that's fun. Then we went down to San Luis to go swimming; always a thrill. Then we had the neighbors over for dinner. That was what did the damage.

The neighbor kids and Claire & Aeron were rampaging full-tilt boogie at 9pm, completely trashing the family room. They were giggling like maniacs, spilling out the toy buckets, jumping on each other; absolute pandemonium.

We got the girls down, and retired to the Boudoir for some quality sweetie time. Enjoyed a glass of wine, read our books, listened to soothing music. Until about 10:30pm, anyway.

Aeron starts crying. Then the crying gets louder and more anguished. I went into her room and she was uncovered and thrashing about. I hug the child, talk to her softly, rub her back and she subsides. I lay her down, cover her up and leave.

Miles and I tag-teamed the kid for the next five hours. She finally stopped about 3am.

Good thing she's cute.