So we are now back from two weeks at a lake, surrounded by family and supervising Ironflower and Lovebug in their flower girl/ring bearer debut. I meant to actually post while I was there, but each day was filled with family activities, too much wine and chasing my now-mobile baby around an un-baby-proofed house.

To write about the whole ordeal vacation thing would require more patience than I have and more posts than anyone is likely to read, so I thought I’d just share a few random observations.

1. It is a shame that we don’t live closer to my cousin’s kids, who are the ideal playmates for my own.
2. Three year old boys don’t really make good ring-bearers. At least not when they’re thirsty, haven’t napped and have no parent in the wedding party.
3. A vacation without a nanny is not really a vacation for everyone involved.
4. Rushing through a hike, however short the hike, kinda misses the whole point.
5. Ballroom dance lessons do not a fun reception make.
6. Four year old girls with princess complexes do make good flower girls. Except when they forget that the wedding is supposed to be about the bride.
7. My dad’s side of the family can drink an awful lot of wine. And still dance well.
8. Oh my god, how in the hell can I be THIRTY-EIGHT? Shouldn’t I be mature by now?
9. I want to live on a lake.
10. And own a boat.
11. Every restaurant should have a playground.
12. Some people should learn the difference between small talk and conversation.
13. Sometimes playing Lexulous is more fun than writing.
14. Some Republicans are really, really nice.
15. My husband looks very good in a suit.
16. Ironflower has good instincts about people.
17. ChunkyMonkey LOVES chocolate cake. Already.
18. Never leave the TV on all night in your three year old’s bedroom.
19. Babies sleep better in rooms with no windows.
20. It’s probably a bad sign when a gown makes you think of Cruella De Vil.

What have you learned while I’ve been gone?

I never had sympathy for those parents who blamed “the school” or “the other kids” for their children’s behavior. Surely parents had more control over their children than their peers did, at least until adolescence began. And when a parent would assert that little Johnny had never kicked anyone before entering my first grade classroom, I would grind my teeth together, secretly blaming Johnny’s kicking on his father’s rumored drug use. Sure my classroom was purely a force for good, I was thrilled to find a preschool with a similar philosophy.

And then Ironflower actually went to preschool.

It’s not that she became aggressive. If anything, her behavior got better. But my smugness lessened when she began talking about the Disney princesses. Up until then, she had played princess like she had played other imaginary games. “Princess” was a character like “doctor” or “paleontologist”. Then she learned about Cinderella. And Ariel. And Sleeping Beauty. And Belle. And. . . . .now it’s become an obsession. Just like it is for every other girl in her class. A not very imaginative obsession, at that.

And it’s not like the Princesses send out a great message. In fact, I despise the whole idea of The Little Mermaid (think about it, she gives up her VOICE for a cute boy. If that ain’t a metaphor for a tragic female adolescence. . .). But they’re all over my house anyway. Because I didn’t want her to be an outcast.

At least Lovebug discovered Thomas before he discovered school. At least I know it’s his passion. Because I’m not so sure about Ironflower and her princesses sometimes. Of course, that could be wishful thinking.

(During this writing, ChunkyMonkey managed to army crawl all the way across the family room to get to his brother’s Lego train. I see more Thomas crap in my future.)

Anyway, I feel like such a sell out. I never intended to purchase all this character crap. Of course, we also weren’t going to watch TV and we were only going to eat organic.

Note to self: Stop making parenting pledges ahead of time.

Days like this I’m ready to move back to Kansas City. Not because of my friends or the more affordable lifestyle, but because I need the sun. I cannot take anymore rain. It’s the sole reason that I would never move back to Portland. I LOVE Portland. Especially it’s proximity to the beach and the mountains. Where was I? (See, the rain is even starting to affect my brain.) Oh yeah, RAIN.

You see, it doesn’t rain this much in Kansas City. Ever. And it’ never this fucking cold in JUNE, either.I

I need summer and I need it now.

Today was supposed to be the end of the year picnic/pool party for the kids’ preschool. Thanks to today’s steady downpour it’s being postponed until next week. When Hot Guy will be out of town. Which begs the question. . . .

Am I really going to appear in public, in front of all the lovely skinny mommies, in a bathing suit?

See, if we still lived in Kansas City I would not being having this problem. The party would have been today and Hot Guy could have done bathing suit duty. And, it would be SUMMER.

Or, if we lived in Portland, no one would have planned an outdoor pool party for June. Problem solved.

This weather is so bad that not only am I in a bad mood about it, I’m POSTING about it. I’ve been reduced to posting about the weather. What will I post about next – poopy diapers?

On an unrelated note: Watching the Real Housewives of NJ is really disturbing me. Some of them live in a nearby town – a town where I know people. And they keep eating at restaurants in my hometown. Part of me is appalled that their behavior will forever be associated with my home and another part of me keeps thinking, “See? THIS is why you don’t have more friends here.”

As we all know, I am not a domestic goddess. I am not even a domestic demi-goddess. In fact, I’m pretty sure that the term “domestic” shouldn’t even be applied to me. But apparently this whole mom gig demands domestic tasks, especially when your husband keeps going out of town and you cannot afford help. Though I do mooch off of my own mother as much as possible, since she really is a domestic goddess.

Since someday my own children may need me to feed their adult palates (they will develop tastes beyond chicken nuggets, right? RIGHT?), I’ve been toying with the idea of learning to cook a few grown-up meals. Then House Hunters comes on, and I forget. But Unilever, maker of Ragu, Lipton, Skippy, Hellmann’s and loads of other products, has come along to remind me. They have a new site called Making Life Better, which has tons of domestic goddess tips. Including recipes, some of which don’t seem too daunting. Especially since you can watch some of them being made on YouTube. Though I am confused by the burger recipes. Aren’t they just ground beef?

They also have health and beauty tips, with which I am much more comfortable (I used to take really good care of myself. I even had cute hair.) And parenting tips. And sweepstakes to win free groceries. And coupons. (Odd but true: I can’t cook but I do embrace grocery shopping. As long as I don’t have to bring all three kids with me.) The whole point, of course, is to Make Life Better. It’s sort of like reading a more interactive women’s magazine, which I like. (Even though my feminist sensibilities bristle at the idea of all this being “women’s” stuff, as if only women care about cooking and parenting. But that’s another post.)

Thanks to Mom Central for introducing me to Making Life Better.

Chocolate was not a problem for me until I got pregnant. I mean, I liked it. I wasn’t mentally ill, for God’s sake. But it wasn’t a compulsion, like french fries. Then I got pregnant and I became an addict. I had high hopes the addiction would fade away after my pregnancy, like my swollen feet. Instead, the chocolate problem was more like my now straighter and darker hair – permanent.

I’ve tried to fight it. But since I have the willpower of a two year old, that hasn’t been successful. I’ve tried to indulge it. But since I still have to wear my maternity jeans, that hasn’t exactly been successful either. I’ve tried low calorie versions of chocolate. But since I am picky, I have only recently been successful.

I’ve discovered Skinny Cow ice cream sandwiches. They are really, really good. Not expensive chocolate truffles from Belgium good, but pint of chocolate ice cream good. And they’re much less fattening than eating a pint – or even a serving – of ice cream. Chocolate wafers, cookies and cream ice cream (there are other flavors like strawberry, vanilla and mint, not that I’ve tried them) . . . for less than 200 calories.

Thanks to Mom Central, maybe someday I’ll be able to wear my real jeans again.