Her response?
“OMG. U sent me a txt?”

After exchanging a few of these scintillating messages back and forth, I received yet another text later that afternoon:
“Dont get usd 2 txting me all the time.”

Well, fat chance of that. Personally, I think the whole text messaging thing is a pain, and I’d rather just pick up the phone and leave a quick voice message. So here’s my question: What’s the allure with this? I can see that for kids, it’s a big plus being able to text during class and no one’s the wiser. But what’s in this for me? Help me out here; what am I missing?

You’ve gotta love tax dollars at work that result in front page photos of outraged seniors sporting signs like “We’re Old Enough to Choose” and “Give us Our Just Desserts.” Apparently Putnam County, NY's Office for the Aging made the decision without any input from its elders. “As a rule, I don’t eat doughnuts, but it’s a matter of principle,” explains one protestor. “We want our baked goods back and we want to be treated like humans.”

What’s next…a cuppa joe? Now, that would really show those seniors who's boss.

Dog in car with me for the big reunion? Check.
Surprise at how more grown up he looks even after a few weeks away? Check.
Home cooked meal prepared and happily devoured (after all, it doesn’t take much to top cafeteria fare)? Check.

“Mom,” my Soph-person says with a mischievous smile later that night. “I brought you a present.” Of course, he was the real gift. The dirty laundry? A mere goody bag.

Yes, the hubby and I are fairly bursting with pride. I came home from work the other day to find a letter in our mailbox informing us that our personal patch of earth is being considered for a national TV commercial for a big name lawn care company. Yup. Apparently our lawn is one of the finalists being considered to play the part of “Lush Green Grass” in a future commercial coming soon to a TV near you.

Of course, it’s not a done deal. Apparently several other talented lawns are being considered. But as they say, it’s an honor just to be nominated. Our chief gardener, the hubby, is, quite naturally, just beside himself. Too bad they don’t make a bumper sticker for that. ‘Cause in the battle of the bumper stickers, surely “My lawn is a TV star” would trump even the most ivy-covered college decal.

PS: So will our lawn get the part? Stay tuned.

Over 800 moms were asked to clock their weekly clean up time. The majority of respondents – more than half or 61% - said they spent one to five hours a week cleaning. (Twenty-three percent spent between six and ten hours a week, 7% between 11 and 15, 3% between 16 and 20, and 5% more than 21 hours weekly.) Two-percent don’t spend any time at all on housework (you go girls!).

Okay, it’s time to come clean here: how much time do you spend cleaning your house in a typical week?

I’ll start us off: “More than the hubby but not nearly enough. The dust bunnies around here have been known to multiply like, well, rabbits."

With just about everyone, including younger and younger kids, carrying cell phones these days, someone came up wih a great idea to standardize emergency contact info should the cell phone owner not be able to speak for himself. Just program your (or your child's) emergency contact number in the phone's phonebook as "ICE" -- an abbreviation for "In case of emergency." If you have more than one emergency number (e.g. a mom's cell phone and work numbers, let's say), you can designate them as ICE 1, ICE 2, etc.

What do you think...great idea, huh? Let's try to pass it along to everyone. Me? I'm going to get busy right now programming my ICE numbers into my own phone.

Okay, I don’t really need a note, but honestly, if youth is wasted on the young, sick days are wasted on the sick. I actually took my first one yesterday in I can’t remember how long (though I checked in with my office via cell, fax, and e-mail…) and all I can say is: the thought of a sick day, with marathon junky TV and hot chicken soup, etc. was a whole lot more fun than the actual thing, maybe because, oh yeah, I was sick (nothing horrible, just a virus-type thing).

Then again, maybe it would be more fun if someone was bringing me up trays of Jello and OJ, but alas, for us moms, that someone is, oh yeah, moi. (Kinda takes the fun out of it…)

Oh well, thanks for letting me vent. I feel better already!

Anyhoo, the hubby finally downloaded some of our pix, so I am posting them here to share with you. Here’s me having hiked a couple of miles up one of the Grand Teton mountains, resting at “Inspiration Point” (the hubby called it “Perspiration Point” and for good reason).

And here I am getting ready to throw myself off a mountain to go paragliding. I still can’t believe I did that and now that I have, I feel I can dine out on that story for the next decade or so.

...and here's me in the air!

So let’s hear: What daredevil kind of thing did you surprise yourself by doing?

No one loves her dog more than moi (I went so far as to post a pix of my yellow Lab Maggie on this blog, gushing about her as “the love of my life.” My hubby knows it; heck, my kids know it: when it comes to my affections, Maggie is Top Dog.

But even if (a critical qualifier here) I had $12 million, I wouldn’t leave it to my favorite fur-person, unlike the late Queen of Mean hotelier Leona H, whose will provided a trust fund in that amount for Trouble, her white Maltese. I mean, that’s a whole lotta kibble.

As someone who is positively crazy about canines, I can’t help but think of all the good such a sum could do for the millions of dogs languishing—or worse—in shelters or living without adequate food, lodging, and medical care. Too bad Her Royal Highness of Hotels didn’t stop to think about all of her four-legged subjects. That kind of pet project would have gone a long way to repairing Her Majesty’s image with the little people, those with paws and without.

I mean, who among us hasn’t screwed up sometime, perhaps not in front of gazillions of people on live TV but still! What I love is Lauren’s explanation, offered later on The Today Show: a simple yet effective “…I made a mistake. I’m human.” Kudos to this not-so-dumb blonde for having the guts to say it like it is. How many adults three times her age do you know who could never admit to having made a mistake to another person, let alone the TV watching public?

If it’s any consolation, Lauren, I’ve been there, done that. On one of my earliest live TV appearances, I totally froze searching for a common word. As I was tripping over myself, all I could think, over and over in my head, was “I can’t believe this is happening to me on live TV.” Thankfully, I covered my tracks and only my nearest and dearest could correctly interpret my deer-in-the-headlights look. The host went on to invite me back on the show to speak about something else not soon after, and being more relaxed, I went ahead and nailed that appearance, if I must say so myself. (“You didn’t screw up this time,” said one helpful family member.)

So Lauren, take heart. It takes a real winner to admit that she’s made a mistake. You may not have taken home the crown, but you’ve captured the hearts of many of your fellow sometime fumblers (also known as human beings).

Because I did the whole-shopping-for-college thing a mere year ago, I’m trying my best to stay clear of these stores for the time being. But awhile back, I ran into my local BB&B for some placemats and came face-to-face with one of the season’s telltale twosomes: a mother and daughter “enthusiastically discussing” their purchases (imagine dialogue like “But Ashley’s mom let her get black satin sheets” and you get the idea).

The list of a hundred of so college must-haves (think the third grade supply list on steroids) that these stores dispense never fails to amuse. But by far the most chuckle-inducing item on the list, especially for moms of male students who pride themselves on their just-rolled-outta-bed fashion style? An iron.

My advice? Ignore the iron. Besides, there’s only one thing your new college student needs. And your scholar knows that it doesn’t grow on trees ‘cause it comes right out of those ATM's conveniently sprinkled around campus.

Isn't he a cutie?

So far it’s been spectacular. The Snake River Lodge is our jumping off point to do the tourist thing. Yesterday we toured the beautiful Grand Teton National Park. Part of our wanderings included a three-mile hike up a mountain. The hubby took a pix of me on top of a 1,000 foot cliff called Inspiration Point but he “forgot” the cable thingy to allow him to upload it into my laptop so I could post it here. So instead, I am posting a gorgeous pix of the mountains we explored, courtesy of my son. Enjoy!

Hope you’re enjoying your end-of-summer time, at home or away. Wish you were here!

What's the score with this thing anyway? In the interest of research, I tuned into a screening of the original HSM the other night on TV. Quite frankly, I wanted to see what all the fuss was about. Not only was the media hyping this new flick ad nauseum (there was even a big article in the Wall Street Journal about it this past Thursday), two people whose taste I trusted and admire: one of my preferred chick flick viewing pals (and mom of a daughter in that targeted ‘tween demographic) and an acquaintance, an actor now in the avant garde Broadway sensation Spring Awakening, both gave it good buzz. And while the latter was polite but not particularly enthusiastic about its artistic merits, he did admit to humming the movie’s songs repeatedly when he first saw it. Another reason for my interest? As the mom of a past local high school musical participant and current professional actor-in-training, I was curious to see this rite-of-passage writ large for the TV watching public.

So. I made it through the first half hour, after which the hubby came home and made some snarky comments about taste levels sinking to an all time low. My final verdict? Cute but cloying, and just perfect for the preteen set. Yes, of course, I liked its message of breaking out of one’s often self-imposed box and the importance of trying new things. And from what I can remember, the whole high school clique thing and its attendant drama was pretty much spot on. Still and all, I guess you have to be a 13-year-old – or the mom of one – to make it all the way through the movie in one sitting.

PS: Have you (or your kids) seen it? And, if so, what’s your take on why it’s so popular?