I guess I should do my hair.

T is going to be on a reality show!

Before you get excited you should know that it is extremely local and that is all I know about the show.

She met with the producers today for lunch and as soon as she got home I asked a thousand questions and tried to find out which day I would need to do dishes in my favorite high heels.

She doesn't know yet.

But I can't believe how close I am to being a celebrity.

On a more personal note, for those of you who are concerned (and thank you for your concern) my back seems to be getting better when I am kind to it, but I am not that kind to it. Usually by evening it is all stiff again but it really is improving each day.

On a more interesting note, I'm working today because I am taking off Friday and Saturday to go into the city for Cover the Night for Invisible Children. If you haven't heard about the Joseph Kony Campaign you must have been living under a rock. I am oh-so-excited about running around the city with a friend all night and meeting other volunteers and all that jazz.

So to gear up for a lazy tomorrow and Friday and off time, I spent today doing everything that hasn't gotten done in over two weeks because the kids have been home and that other child was being born.

I mopped everything I could before my back was like, knock it off or you won't walk anymore. And then T had her lunch thing so I sat with Baby D and told him how cute he was for an hour. And he really is. I love him.

R came home and bothered me while I was trying to smother the baby in my love and then J came home and the two of them left me alone for a while. Since T was home to watch the baby I went off to the kitchen and towel-whipped a fly before it even sensed my presence. It was amazing.

When the high from that wore off, I woke up Monkey, who has been sleeping forEVER in the afternoons if you let him. So I open his door and turn off his music and he sits up and looks all annoyed for twenty minutes before letting anyone take him out of bed. Eventually, he came downstairs and the three of them spent an hour fighting in the playroom while T and I talked about why my spaghetti sauce is awesome.

And I'll tell you why.

Because it is my mom's spaghetti sauce and that is how spaghetti sauce is supposed to taste. And I'm tired of people thinking otherwise.

Crushed tomatoes and salt does not spaghetti sauce make. You know who you are.

Dinner was pretty good. My latest technique is telling the kids they're not getting dessert in five minute intervals to keep them on the edge and eating well. When we got halfway through, or in other words, when I finished eating and they had each taken like six bites, I told them stories to keep them engaged long enough to finish eating. Most nights it works, but tonight they were exceptionally silly and I had to threaten to give all their candy to Monkey to keep them going.

Unfortunately, he speaks a lot of English now and he got all excited and started chanting, "Canny! Canny!" So then I had to give him chocolate chips.

He finished first and I released him into the wild.

At that point, R got really bad (she has been REALLY bad lately) and grabbed at my chest and told me I am going to have a baby soon. It was quite a fortune-telling experience.

I was desperate for material so I told them all about Monkey's new class at the library yesterday and the raccoons I have encountered while I was out the past two nights.

The first one was out on the street not far from home. I was walking, on the phone with my mother, when I heard it squealing and thought it was birds fighting. Then I realized that it was 8:30 at night and there was a really good chance it was not birds. I had to look, but when I spotted it, the thing was squawking and squealing in the middle of the road, turning around and rolling and spazzing and otherwise not looking well.

And looking at me.

With hatred.

So I backed away without making eye contact and went home a different way.

When I told E about it and how I was pretty sure it was rabid, he said he had seen one that morning, chewing on the yellow flags the gardener put on our lawn to mark where the poisonous pesticides are.

Ohhhhhhhh.

So if the raccoon didn't have rabies it now has mental retardation.

Actually, now it's probably roadkill.

Suburbia strikes again.

Last night I went out and I was far enough from here that it was probably a different raccoon I encountered, but I wasn't taking any chances because they're all jerks and not one of them is cute and cuddly like Meeko from Pocahontas. Disney is always lying to me.

And with that, I am off to watch a Disney movie for some more valuable life knowledge.