I have the World’s Worst Memory for all things numerical. What date is it? I have no idea. And even if I look it up, if I ask myself the same question ten minutes later I’ll have to look up the date again. Numbers? Forget it. The date? Please. There are definite moments wherein I have to think really hard and deliberately as to what YEAR it is. I think it’s 2007 but I might have to look that up, too.

I exist in a happy fog of my daily routine, and I forget what day, month, year, whatever it is because unless I’m writing a check (which hardly ever happens) I have no idea what day it is.

Enter the digital planner. I’ve had a palm since the Handspring Deluxe was released in 1997. Before that I had a Casio Cassiopeia, which was very very nice but weighed very very much. If I don’t have a digital device or even a paper calendar telling me what all I have to do, I’m screwed - because I don’t even know what year it is, much less what date and if anything happens on that date that I should probably be aware of.

Right now I have a Blackberry, which I’m liking a bit more than my Treo 650, though I haven’t made up my mind which one to use and which one to retire/sell on eBay. The Blackberry is lighter and faster, but the Treo has a better agenda/calendar display. And since I don’t know what millennium it is, I need the digital agenda to tell me where and in what time zone I’m currently located.

Hubby also has a Blackberry, has had a Treo 600 and 650 (until it got fried because I let Freebird eat it) and also possess the ability to know not only what day it is, what year, what month, and what’s the interstate route to take from point A to point B, but also what time it is right this second without having to look at a clock or his watch. He’s in tune with the universe in some weird way that he can also tell you the entire batting order from the 1991 Pirates or the 1993 Mets. There are random facts in his brain, like the birth dates of his deceased cats, that will never, ever vacate the brain cells.

Enter today: Hubby’s grandmothers 90th birthday. I mentioned it last night, and he said he’d take care of it.

Snort.

Guess who just placed a same-day flower delivery order for said Granny when I reminded Hubby that her birthday was (a) today and (b) a Big Milestone Birthday celebrating 90 (holy shit) years on the earth?

That would be me. And you know what really burns my toast? If he and I had forgotten altogether, despite the knowledge that Hubby is the almanac and I’m the space cadet, guess who would have been subtly blamed for having forgotten? Me. Because that kind of thing is the “girl’s job.” Thank God I have a digital planner and a calendar that beeps at me if I forget to look at it.

You’d think it’d be a one-sided battle - the person who can’t remember what YEAR IT IS right now vs. the person who knows what date, time, and second it is without having to look, and who takes care of business. But either way, the flowers are ordered, and all will be well. 

Now I have to figure out what year it is. I think it’s 2007. Isn’t it?

This entry made me laugh so hard my boobs hurt. OMG.

Seriously. I hurt.

A friend of Hubby’s is going to become the father of triplet girls tomorrow, and one of the things the father was writing about on his own site was his need for a OMG Much Bigger Car (along with a whole mess of other OMG Much Bigger stuff, in sets of 3). They already have a toddler, who is almost 3, so that’s instant four-kid schlepping power needed in one complete vehicle.

I think they went with a Toyota Sienna minivan with an 8-seat configuration, which makes a lot of sense. Given that Hubby and I both have cars, and that this fall, God willing, we will have two kids, every so often I start pondering the sizable upgrade of vehicular power.

With a duo of small children, a 5 passenger car is just fine in the beginning, I think. Hubby has a Prius, and I have the Badass Mommy Mobile, aka the dark blue Toyota Matrix with the Boomboom Stereo Option. Seriously. This stereo has BASS. I am definitely washed in the glow from the red digital display and rendered much, much cooler. And 230% more awesome. There’s room in the back seat for the infant seat base and the current Throne of Freebird, and that’ll probably work until Freebird starts kindergarten or thereabouts.

But eventually, there shall be car pool and schlepping, and the toting of friends along with the children, and then I shall have to ponder the larger vehicle with More Schlepping Power.

Now, I am not a big fan of SUVs, primarily in terms of gas mileage and economics. I love the Incredible Schlepping Power of an SUV and some of them are just spiffy looking, but the gas mileage? Oy. I think it’s patently ridiculous that the Ford Escape Hybrid is advertised on television as getting 34 miles per gallon, like that’s something to get excited about. My blooming white ass! Are you kidding me? Our former VW got 38 miles per gallon, without a hybrid engine. Hubby’s car, which is a gas-electric hybrid, averages about 48-52 miles per gallon. Mine, which is less efficient with all-wheel-drive and is not a hybrid, averages about 37-38 - and I find that slightly unsettling.  So why is 34 mpg with a hybrid engine something to write home about? (The obvious answer being that most of the cars on the road today get abysmal mileage, since the miles-per-gallon ratio wasn’t something that people paid attention to until very recently when gas prices went skyrocketing.)

Of course, the selection of cars in the US that have tolerable gas mileage averages and seat more than 2 passengers is slim to none. There’s the Escape hybrid (snort), the Mountaineer hybrid, and some other newer Toyotas with hybrid engines coming soon. I heard at the Minnesota State Fair Toyota exhibit (yes, they had an exhibit) that all Toyotas would be available with hybrid engines as of 2010. So potentially gas mileage on the whole could improve, but not by much.

I fully recognize that I’m going to have to take my gas mileage high horse and shove it up my behind when it comes to buying a larger car with the ability to schlep the family plus assorted friends, or pets, or luggage, or all of the above. Minivans and SUVs don’t get the best of mileage, since they weigh a lot and carry even more. That said, for the life of me I can’t understand why with the increase in gas prices and the consumer focus on miles-per-gallon, there isn’t more attention paid to designing cars that can seat 6 or 7 passengers yet still maintain a 30+ miles-per-gallon ratio. Hell, 25 mpg for combined highway and city driving would be nice. Most minivans, for example, average 20 mpg combined. Why is there not more of a vocal demand for higher mpg vehicles designed with family schlepping in mind? I just don’t get it.

Of course, there’s always the station wagon: I could go for a retro Wagonaire model, especially if I could find one with wood panel sides and a rear-facing back seat, aka the “way back” or the “back back.” That would be most awesome and oh-so-cool. I can just see Freebird and Baba O’Rileys friends running (the other way) when I pull in the driveway for carpool.

Ultimately I’m going to have to compromise and suck it up, since the need to port multiple kids and share the carpooling and schlepping will outweigh any miles-per-gallon preference I might have. And I’m curious- what kind of car do you drive? Do you like it? (NB: I don’t think you’re a monster if you drive an SUV. I personally don’t want one, but that doesn’t mean you shouldn’t have what you want, or, worse, that I’ll look down my nose at you for having one. Really. It’s hard to not sound like a snobby buttmunch on a blog entry regarding things like this, but ask anyone who knows me in real life: I’m not going to pronounce you as destined for Hades because you drive an Escalade.) So, what’s your ride?

I has a cupcake. YUMMMMMMMY!

I’m halfway through my pregnancy. I can’t believe it. And yet, I can, and it seems like a long way to September.

But as Hubby pointed out, that’s a good thing. We have a LOT TO DO.

Hubby cracks me up.

1. I forgot how nice it is to have lunch and shoot the breeze with someone who knows you really well, and even if you don’t see each other all the time, you can still hang out in person like you do it all the time.

2. Really good pizza? IS REALLY REALLY GOOD.

3. A beautiful day in NYC? Awesome. If I hadn’t left early on Friday for le Ultrasound du 20 weeks, I’d leave early and shop my brains out. And really? I’m not one for shopping, especially when standing up for 45 minutes means I better find the ladies room STAT.

(That’s one thing about NYC by which I cannot abide: the scarcity of easy-to-find bathrooms that are (a) open to the public and (b) bathrooms you’d actually deign to use. I go out on the street and in the back of my mind there’s a lone gps signal receiving no feedback asking, “Where’s the nearest bathroom? Where’s the nearest bathroom?” It’s like trying to find the exit nearest to your seat on the airplane and knowing there isn’t one, only instead of an exit it’s an “exit.")

4. I had the 20 Week Ultrasound, which I LOVE, on Friday afternoon, and it was a hoot and a half. Thumb sucking! Posing for pictures! Attempts at 3-d scans with no success. And a very very happy, healthy baby shimmying around in there, showing off legs and arms and hands and feet (gotta make sure that there are 5 fingers and 5 toes per hand/foot, since polydactyly runs in my family), and an adorable little baby profile. Of course no revelations of gender, sorry to say.  But oh, how I love the 20 week extended visit.

5. Slightly bad news with a slightly happy twist at the end: my placenta has parked itself a liiiittle too close to my cervix. While it won’t move toward it and cover the cervix up, if it doesn’t move back it’s something to monitor, since it could make a delivery through the Valley of my Lotus Blossom a bit of a challenge (not that I have problem with having a c-section. I don’t care if the baby has to come out my sinus cavity, so long as there’s a healthy baby and a healthy mom at the end). Happy twist at the end? I’ll have another ultrasound at 28 weeks to double check how the internal baby blanket is and where it is, so I will have another visit to say hi to Baba O’Riley.

6. I’m now able to move fully into my maternity wardrobe since it’s finally consistently in the 60s, and I have pieces to layer with. I do need some maternity pants, though, which would be a nice thing to have. Thankfully, I have a gift card for Motherhood, home of the Most Inflexible Return Policy Ever, so I can shop for pants.

7. On a non-mommy, non-pregnancy, non-maternity front, Hubby and I had another one of our “check in with our financial long-range plan” chats, mostly because I was nursing weird notions to pack up and move to Montana, and it’s very comforting to be on the same page with someone as far as immediate money and long term money are concerned.

8. I do need to get cracking on my five-year goals, though. Wonder if i should make a list: what’s the five year goal list? I’ll have to ponder that - and ponder if I want to share it! Telling the internet about stuff like that makes me feel like I left the house without pants on. *checks ass* I do have pants on right now. Phew.