It's so exciting I can barely stand it!

Heather is out on her first date right now. I was so excited and nervous as we waited for her date to come and pick her up. I don't know how she felt. I mean, this is my first date, too. As a mom, that is.

Brian, Nick and I all answered the front door. Her date told Heather she looked nice---smooth. Then we all gathered around the window to watch them walk to the car. He opened the door for her---nice. Another brownie point.

As soon as they left, I yelled for Sarah and Anna and we headed for the car. I knew where they were going. It took all of my will-power and some of Sarah's to keep from following them. But how cool would it be to sit behind them in the movie theater? Very cool. We went and got pizza instead. Anna seemed disappointed.

"Don't worry, Anna. For your first date, I'll definitely follow you," I assured her. "Good, I've been looking forward to that," she smiled. "Your first date?" I wondered. "No, to being on a date and seeing you and dad dressed in black following in the car behind me."

We would be there. But probably not dressed in black. Black makes me look fat.

I think I need some more white-out.

Last night we sat around the kitchen table filling out passport applications. Sarah and Heather's had expired and Nicholas and Anna had never had one. Who knew it would be so, well, hard!

"How tall am I?" Anna asked. I went and found a tape measure. It was a really handy tape measure and stopped right at 5 feet. Just a little bit shorter than Anna was. "Shall we put five and a bit?" I wondered. Nicholas was no better. He didn't know how tall he was either. Somehow it didn't seem right to put "tall."

And that was the easy question. Hair color was next. "Anna what would you call the color of your hair?" Is it just me, or should they include a color chart? "It's greasy," Anna replied as her explanation for why I couldn't discern her hair color. "Greasy isn't a color!" Should I just put "Dirty Blonde?" I looked at her hair again---make that "very dirty blonde." We settled on light brown.

Eye color. Gee it just keeps getting better. I decided to put hazel for everyone and they could decide what that meant. Hazel must be code for, "I don't know." Besides, I was including color pictures. If they want to know that everyone looks like---look at the picture!

So the forms are filled out. And now everyone knows how tall they are and what color their hair is. I feel like we got a lot accomplished.

"Is there, like, a reason there's a toad in the bathroom?" Anna called to me. "A What?" I yelled back, getting closer to the door to make sure I heard her correctly.

"A toad. In the bathroom." Yep. That's what I thought she'd said. Anna was surprisingly calm.

Well, let me think. A reason for a toad to be in the bathroom? No, not that I can think of. Unless of course one of the girls have misplaced their prince. I'll have to ask them when they get home from school. He is kind of cute.

And next time I'm sweeping off the porch, I'll keep the door shut.

Can I help you?

Who knew I was so bossy? Okay, everyone else but me. And all this time I thought I was easy going. It's funny how we fool ourselves. In fact, I am convinced that I don't have an opinion or need to do something my way, until I actually see that someone is doing it completely wrong. And I have to intervene. You know---to show them the RIGHT way to do it. My way.

The whole family went to the grocery store last night. It was pretty fun. We walked around the store in one long line. I found the item I wanted, handed it to Sarah, who handed it to Anna, who handed it to---you get the idea. At the check-out I asked which one of the kids had been trained in the proper way to put the food onto the counter. Heather took charge telling the others which food to put where. Heavy items first. Always. This means milk, pop, and then cans. Meat---making sure it doesn't touch anything else. Because that is just gross. Boxed items next and then the frozen food, produce, etc.

As the kids lined up everything the correct way I realized that I am a freak. Not only that, I'm turning my kids into freaks. At least we're organized freaks.

But it doesn't end there. Everywhere I go, I give my opinion on how to do things. At Burger King the girl was trying to change the garbage. She was doing it completely wrong. I stood next to her and walked her through the correct way. Step by step. She was a teenager and gave me a look, that if it hadn't been so important, I would've just left and let her fend for herself.

To name just a few, I recently suggested they change the layout at the gas station mini mart down the street, recommended they create a new drive-thru lane at McDonald's, and have let the city know several times where it would be helpful to have additional stoplights. I know there are people who are hired to make these decisions. If they would just do their jobs, I wouldn't have to do it for them. Although, I probably would anyway.

My back-up plan for reading a map.

We had to drive from the hotel to the University where the quiz bowl competitions were taking place. Brian stayed at the hotel to get some work done, so I was armed with a map and no sense of direction whatsoever. Luckily I decided to rely on a method I've used in the past---with mixed success. I scanned the cars on the road in front of me and found what I was looking for---the car I would follow. Hopefully they were going to the same place I was. Sometimes this method doesn't work out so well and I end up in the completely wrong place. The people in this car, however were all wearing matching red shirts---I was fairly confident they were headed in my direction.

We followed them all the way, right into the parking lot of the University. Yes! They got out of their car and I rolled down my window. "Do you know which building the quiz bowl competition is in?" I asked them. The driver laughed. "We've been lost all day, we don't know where we're going." When I told them that I had followed them over here from our hotel they thought that was the funniest thing ever. I thanked them and waved goodbye. I saw some more cars ahead and decided to see if they knew where to park.

"Do you know where you are going?" I yelled out my window at the next group of people we passed. They looked at me like I was a complete idiot. "Of course we do." They were carrying boxes with buzzers for the competition. I hurried up and parked the car---we needed to follow the buzzers!

Winding through the campus some of the kids were worried we wouldn't be able to find our car at the end of the day. "Don't worry," I told them. "We'll find someone we can follow."

A little too smart for my taste.

We went to Washington, D.C. for National Quiz Bowl competitions this weekend. Early on the first morning, we walked through the hotel on our way to breakfast. Apparently there were several other teams staying in the same hotel. We couldn't help checking out the competition. My husband and I would whisper and point at the kids walking down the hallway: "He looks smart." We tried to figure out the best way to gauge the "smartness" of the other teams. We came up with a few ideas for the best indicators.

1. White socks with black shoes.
2. Wearing a backpack with both straps (and the bigness thereof).
3. Notes for last minute trivia cramming.
4. Teams with matching unibrows.

Heather was offended because she wears her backpack with both straps. It only means that she is smart.

When I walked around between rounds, the kids were always talking about things you don't normally hear teenagers talking about. Things like their calculators, Pokemon, and which US president they think could win in a street fight (the top choices were Taft and Eisenhower).

In the end, it all came down to who knew the most stuff. Our team was smart, we just knew the answers to the wrong questions. They were determined not to come in last and they didn't. But it was close.

I recomit myself to being faithful.

How could I have ever doubted you. You stuck by me---even through the biggest messes (and some of them were pretty messy.) Never complaining, even when I ignored you for long periods of time. Then, at the first sign of trouble, I immediately think it's time to replace you. I trolled the Internet looking for something newer. Something better. It was wrong. I admit it was a weakness on my part.

When at last I decided to give you a second chance, I found we could fix our problems. But I fear the damage has been done. Will you ever forgive me? You can hardly blame me for being so skeptical---critical and quick to judge. I've been hurt in the past and it isn't easy to trust anymore.

It really is difficult to find a reliable vacuum cleaner these days. But I think you are the one.