I have three blog readers on the weekends, but they are my favorite readers and though others don’t post on the weekends, I gladly put out for these wonderful examples of humanity.

Had a great day yesterday. Someone who shall remain nameless had an awful allergy attack and had to come home from work. And because I make all of my decisions based on Jane Austen novels, I decided we needed to go to the shore because that’s what British people do when then have lung problems. They go to the shore. THE SHORE.

That’s me swinging. I’m not really one of those moms who enjoys the playground. In fact, I’m more like the mom who’s sitting there and wishing my kid was just a little bit older so I wouldn’t have to actually stand up and act concerned that my two year old has climbed on top of the monkey bars. But yesterday, there was something about the shore breeze and the hot, hot sun and allergies that made me push the nameless person off the good swing, and tell Arch, “goddamn it kid, legs forward and then back, forward. back. FORWARD. BACK. GOD, IS THIS YOUR FIRST TIME ON A SWING?”

I needed to SWING! And shout things like, “I’m going over the bar this time!” I think I might have had some Seasonal Affected Disorder (what we in Portland call, a case of the SADs) because just three days ago that phrase would have been, “I’m going over TO the bar this time.”

It was a really awesome day, and honestly, while we were picnicking, I got a little teary because I was having so much fun with my little boy and the nameless person.

Today it’s warm again and Arch is napping because he woke up at 3am. What is up with that? It’s a little like torture and when he climbed into our bed and wanted to chat and hang out, I said, “Okay guys, I’m going to the potty.” And then I went to Arch’s room, shut the door and got into Arch’s little boy bed. I heard him calling for me a little while later and I said, “I’m still in the potty,” and I went back to sleep. The potty is sort of a magical place and I hope he realizes that soon. Very soon.

I have four book reviews due this week. One of which I was like the biggest tough-talker about to my most favorite editor. He said, “How about you turn this one in after BEA.” And I said, “What the fuck, dude? I can totally have it before BEA. HAVE I BLOWN A DEADLINE YET FOR YOU?” And he said, “are you sure?” And I said, “SHYAH!” And before you all think, she is totally lying about this conversation, know that I am not. I talked like that because the editor is a guy and I know most of his reviewers are boys and I need to always be way tougher than I am and pretend like I have a big dick, and that was exactly what I said. In his office. I’d also like to say, “Hi Jeff, thanks for reading my blog, and I’ll totally have both book reviews for you, don’t sweat it. I was not just talking tough, but I am a capable woman who smokes crack and surfs blogs all day budgets her time properly.”

Okay, I’m off to read the 300 page book that needs to be reviewed before Friday.

Here’s the most important part: I got a shout out in the Chicago Sun for this book review. I am damn witty.