I want to be Rachael Ray.

I was watching FoodTV tonight (big suprise) and I decided that I want to be Rachael Ray. I want to be her and I want to marry Joe from Blues Clues.

Rachael is cute when she’s thin, cute when she’s pudgy. I love her wardrobe. I want to travel everywhere. She’s friends with everyone and I’ll bet she’s fun when she’s drunk. I’m guessing she can hold her booze. And I’ve seen pics of her house and I would live there. Do you think she ever gets tired of being Rachael? Do you think she goes home and complains about her husband’s socks on the living room floor or that the dog chewed up the paper? When, exactly, does she have time for a normal life? Or, is she like Oprah and has a staff to do everything for her except wipe her butt.

And Joe? He looks like a good listener. I know he’s a classically trained actor of the Shakespearian variety. So he’s probably done alot of outdoor theatre so he’s probably not high maintenance. I wonder if he’s tall or if it just looks that way because he’s playing with preschool toys.

Ella’s fever is really high. But the little stinker won’t let me give her Motrin or Tylenol. She fought me tooth and nail. She gagged herself and threw up because grape tylenol makes her nauseated it seems. So, being the mama I have become, I called our family physician (also family friend) at home. He said “if she is okay enough to fight you, she doesn’t need tylenol”. I love that man. He knows just what to say. He told me not to worry about it and let the fever do its job and keep her hydrated and rested.

There was a column in the local paper (see above entry about newspaper dorkiness) written by a mama who became a germophobe once her son was born. She described the hand sanitizer, the parinoia about shopping carts and people in general, the calls to ask-a-nurse, the trips to the ER. I hate that. I will not let myself become that mom. Kids and germs go hand in hand and I don’t go to great lengths to protect them. I don’t deliberately take them into sicky situations but I’m not a germ freak. Maybe I should be. Maybe I should wipe the toys down every night. Maybe I should carry hand sanitizer in my pocket. Maybe I shouldn’t let the kids eat animal crackers off the floor.

Yeah, right. Like I have time for that.

I got another shelving unit for my stash. It seems to have grown just when I thought I was thinning it out. How did that happen? When did I become a collector. Now all I need is a banquet table and I’ll be ready to go. The kids toys are set up and I found a space heater. We may not come out of the basement for the rest of the winter. We are headed exactly where I wanted us to be: hibernating. I’m not expecting any visitors and we aren’t going anywhere for months. I don’t have any committments of any kind. I couldn’t be more pleased.

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