Let me get the bad news out of the way first. Yesterday, I was taking trash cans to the alley for today is trash day. My dog, Baby, followed me out. Normally, I chain her up but I was only going to be outside for a moment and my neighbor was outside with his friend who loves my dog. If I had chained her up, she wouldn't have been able to say "hi" to Baby. At any rate, a lady comes down the alley with her Rottweiler. Being a dog lover, I go to pet the dog...Baby jumps the fence and the Rott goes crazy, Baby responds, my neighbor steps between them, I grab my dog, chain her in the back and then return to apologize to this woman. The Rott walked off hunky dory but not before stopping to bark at my dog and nearly pull her owner over in an attempt to get in my backyard and "at" my dog. You can probably guess what's next...This lady knocks on my door this morning and informs me that her dog can't walk. Uh huh...seemed fine yesterday! So I said, "Have you taken her to the vet?" which would be my first reaction if my dog couldn't walk.

"I'm just letting you know my dog can't walk."

"Ok, well take it to the vet and let me know what happens."

An hour later as I'm getting my two sick children ready to walk out the door Animal Control knocks on my door. We now have a citation against us. Ok...If it turns out that our dog is somehow responsible for the alleged injury...of course we'll pay for it. The citation was really not necessary, we are responsible people. The rest of my comments I'll keep to myself as I talked about how she cares for her children...you just never know who's reading this stuff.

Ana loves to play a little game now. We usually read two books before bedtime each evening. One of them is Goodnight Moon and the other is Silly Sally. I've been reading the former to her since before she could talk...it's a bedtime tradition. The latter is one of an ever changing band of books. Ana holds up Silly Sally as I'm reading Goodnight Moon thinking that I can't read the book to her...but of course I have it memorized so it really doesn't matter. She giggles like it is the funniest thing in the world. She does the same thing when we switch books...but Silly Sallyis one of those books that follows a formula so it's easy to retell (very good for developing a child's narrative skills....all those Eric Carle books are great for that as well...guess I can't stop being a speech-therapist), so I don't need to really see the words to "read" the book to her. It's just a fun game to play just before bedtime. I'm thinking of starting to read the Pooh and Beatrix Potter stories to her now as she and her brother play. Ana loves books and telling stories. I think she's ready for that. I'm kind of hoping she'll continue to let me read to her for a long time...I treasure that time so.

My son, David, has become a miniature Wal-Mart Greeter. At the "thing" after the funeral last week, David hung out in the kitchen eating deviled eggs and talking to whoever would listen. What's interesting is that you can't at all understand what he's saying, it's all giberrish, but he HAS so much to say and he knows what he's saying. And he's so very personable about it all...He's going to be a salesman...or a game-show host...or president...there not all that different really...are they?

Michael has been a bit on the trying side this weekend. He refused to pick up some toys from the front porch when a rainstorm was coming in. So I said, "You don't care if your toys get ruined?"

"No," he replied.

"Well I might as well go ahead and get a trash bag and throw them away now?"

"OK."

So I did...is that bad? I hope not...they were hauled away this morning. He also didn't pick up the crap off his floor this morning in a timely manner as I was preparing to sweep and mop the children's bedrooms. I gave plenty of time, plenty of warning. I don't mind cleaning, but I don't like to do all that straightening before cleaning. It's ridiculous...he's old enough to do it himself. So, I handed him the broom and mop and said, "You can sweep and mop your own floor after you pick it up."

"I'M NOT GOING TO!" was his reply. He was naked as he had gotten out of the shower 45 minutes ago and still hadn't gotten dressed and was very indignant. I firmly took him by the shoulders and said, "The consequence of your choosing not to get the floor picked up in a timely manner is that you now have to clean it yourself. I would've been glad to sweep and mop your floor for you had you picked it up as I asked. You WILL be mopping your own floor today. Any questions?"

No questions. He mopped the floor. There was an inch of standing water on the floor afterwards, but he did it. So, am I an evil step mom or what?