I’m testing the wild, wooly moblog. It’s not like I have a camera phone anymore BUT I do have a Blackberry. And I know you’re dying to know
what typos my thumbs can come up with while I go to Texas.

Land of my favorite beer.

That I can’t really drink too much of.

In NJ, it is state law that cars must yield to pedestrians in crosswalks. State law - as in, everywhere in Jersey. According to this chart, getting caught is worth two points on your license. Ouch! Do people actually stop to let people cross the damn road at the crosswalk? Shyeah, right.

In our current hometown, people are always in a freaking hurry and never yield to folks in the crosswalk, but then they are the same people who give dirty looks when a car edges in front of them while they’re crossing the street pushing their Bugaboo (and don’t think I’m Bug bashing. I have one and I am NEVER dressed well enough to be walking behind it. Seriously. That stroller requires a manicure and a Talbot’s wardrobe).

In the beach town, the same thing is true: cars rarely stop for pedestrians, except for the locals, who are unfailingly polite. But the alarming part is, in a beach town, there is a LOT of foot traffic of people crossing the main street to get to and from the beach - not to mention a LOT of children trying to cross as well. So when people don’t stop, it really, REALLY pisses me off, even more at the beach than at home. I seriously want a small mallet or bat so that if I’m waiting to cross, and someone doesn’t let me, I can smash out one of their head or tail lights as they pass by. Not going to stop? Here’s a few hundred worth of repairs! BAM!

I have to wonder what the penalty would be. I don’t run fast so I’d totally get caught. But MAN that small morsel of satisfaction.

I will say, though, that last weekend I was waiting to cross the street, in all my very-obviously-pregnant glory, and a truck coming north on the main road at the beach came to a stop about three or four minutes before anyone going south thought to stop. Truck driving courteous man got OUT of his car, laid down on the horn, and HOLLERED at the oncoming traffic to let me cross. I wanted to go kiss him. It was awesome.

Psst. Tell your friends today how much they mean to you, and how important they are in your life. It will totally make their day.

Yet Another Gift Guide! I love finding cool stuff on the internet, and instead of actually spending my money on it, I encourage you to do so! I know, most evil.

Know a mom who is working full or part time, or a mom who needs to organize her life (that’s pretty much all of us): there is an entire website devoted to products for the busy Mom (like I said: all of us).

See Jane Work has office supplies, organizational tools, and other cool items to help master control over all facets of a Mom’s life.

My favorites: aside from anything on sale:

Letterpress file folders in sets of six to keep you mad organized. The Dream House set has a folder for every room in your house, so you can keep all those magazine remodeling pictures and junk mail flyers for landscapers that accumulate. At least, they do in my house.

Do you forget things that you’re supposed to bring with you when you leave? Try a door knob pad that is really, really hard to ignore. Or, if your things-to-remember is more than just a list of items and includes matter of three dimensions or more, try the doorganizer which has pockets and a keyring for everything you need.

Freebird’s new favorite thing in the whole wide world? KEYS. My keys, Hubby’s keys, any and all keys.

Last night he started yelling from the back seat, “KEYS! KEYS!” while I was driving him home. Problem was, my keys were in the ignition of my car and therefore in use and unavailable to him. This was, judging from the noise, unacceptable.

So when we got home, I took an old car key for a car we no longer own (oops - forgot to give them the extra key at trade in. Our bad!) and a key for a Club that we don’t even have anymore. Add to that a shopper card for Duane Reade, which I don’t use, and a card for New York Sports Club, which I definitely do not use (free trial - never joined) and I figured that would satisfy the wee man’s yen for his own set of keys. You know, to put in the pockets of his tiny baby pants (why do kid’s clothing items have pockets while MATERNITY CLOTHES DO NOT!?!).

These keys? NOT at ALL ACCEPTABLE. The only keys he wants are the kind that I actually use AND come with the remote button for my car and for Hubby’s. There was a full out tantrum on the floor at the idea that he had his own set of keys that were not MY keys.

However, this morning? His keys were absolutely ok. In fact, he rode to school with Hubby clutching his keys. And did Hubby remember to put them in Freebird’s bag?

Nope. Freebird’s keys are in Hubby’s pocket. At work.

*headdesk*

It’s going to be 90-fuck degrees today, and really, it’s pretty freaking tough on me. I’m not big on whining or griping about my problems (except to Hubby, and thus he always looks at me like, “Whatchu talking about??” when I say things like that) but let me say: 30 weeks pregnant + 90-fuck heat and humidity? Tired, groggy, irritable pregnant lady.

So while I caffeinate with my iced coffee and breakfast, here are some random thoughts from my scrambly brain:

1. I have to wait to get my hands on a MomAgenda. Why? Because the August ones just came out- and the newest ones are August 2007-December 2008. So while I’d rather buy that than an agenda that will work for five months and leave 60% of the book unused, I have to wait to get started until August. This is probably a good thing, since it will force me to ruminate on the decision in the mean time.

2. You know what caused this flurry of organizational madness? Freebird has swim days three days a week at school. We got this long email explaining when his group will swim, and what he needs - arrive in his swimsuit and shirt, with a swim diaper to change into after the first diaper change, PLUS a change of clothes and shoes for after, yadda yadda yadda. I don’t know why - I have theories of course - but this just sent me into a tizzy. I have to Keep Track! Of a Swim Bag! PLUS EVERYTHING ELSE?! AAAAAAAAAAGH. And really, I just don’t want Hubby to get there, realize it’s a swim day and that we don’t have his swim stuff so he can’t go. Freebird LOVES to swim, and I want to make sure he can.

My theory as to why I’m so wound up on organization and scheduling? One: I’m monster forgetful. Ask Hubby. I’ve asked him some of the most bizarre questions because I can’t remember things. My 30-weeks-pregnant email this week mentioned that I might have memory fuzziness. No shit sherlock. Two: I can’t nest properly. With Freebird, we renovated the playroom for him. This time? We’re approaching house renovation and so I can’t really do anything with the 3rd bedroom because it’s going to be gutted and enlarged a bit. I can’t really do any major cooking because I won’t really have a kitchen to use and I probably won’t be able to get to the downstairs freezer easily either. I have no nesting aside from hyperscheduling the whole crew. So off I go with a pen and a calendar attempting to lay order on top of chaos. We’ll see how that works out, won’t we!

3. Thursday, I’m going to Texas. Why? Because it’s hot and rainy there, which is the only thing better than hot and humid! No, really, I’m going to a conference, and I plan to check into the hotel, sit down, and stay there until I check out - if possible. I’m surprisingly calm about the whole trip, which is odd since travel usually makes me a little nuts, until I look at the weather forecast. High 80’s and 90’s plus rain and 60% or more humidity. I am going to have a Bad Hair Day the whole time.

But there will be books everywhere. I’m seriously packing my suitcase inside another suitcase so I have room for books when I get home. That alone makes me giddy. A suitcase full of books? That’s like when Hubby and I used to travel pre-children, and we’d have one bag full of reading material, and the other bag with clothes and sunscreen. 

AN UNEXPECTED BUT JOYOUS OCCASION:

We have peed in the potty.

I am fully aware that this was a surprise and I’m not even sure that Freebird himself understood what he did. But pee? In the potty? Hubby and I? Very excited!

Full story, in case you care: