"If there really is a pole at the North Pole, I bet there's some dead guy with his tongue stuck to it." - Bob Van Oris

It should be illegal (since in my opinion it’s already immoral) to have a PBS station’s pledge drive during childrens’ programming.

And my boys are whining that they are bored. It’s pouring rain outside, and Dan has the car today since his is virtually dead but we have not yet made the giant new-car leap. Si is whining about strings in his underwear (wtf???) and Jude is sitting on the couch with thumb in mouth, fingers jammed up nostrils, saying, “Mama. Mama. Mama.” Over and over and over again.

I have just capitulated without much nagging at all and told them they can watch the horrifying Barney. Where are my headphones? I LOATHE Barney. But I LOATHE pledge drive and these smarmy women even more. Oh, will you look at that? For only a pledge of $250, we can be the proud owners of a signed Mr. Rogers trolley. Which of course my boys want. Also, the stuffed animals of the entire DragonTales cast. Odious women, playing upon the sensitivities of toddlers watching pledge drive.

I am a bad parent.

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I finally had found the perfect lip balm – plain un-Petroleum Lip Honey. It works wonders, and it doesn’t melt in my car during the summer. So what happens? You got it - they discontinued it. I might still be able to order it from England but no longer can I just pick some up at Whole Foods. It still comes in flavors like peppermint and orange, but…you guessed it…I loathe flavored lip balm. I guess it’s back to Burt’s Bees for me.

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Someone recently said to me, “If you already have two boys, odds are good this third baby is a girl.” Right? No – very wrong. Babies don’t work like the socks-in-a-drawer probability word problems we tried to solve in grade school. Each baby has a fifty-fifty chance overall of being a particular gender, and with each baby the counter is reset, so to speak. So bring on the third boy. It’s ok. I do NOT loathe baby boys.

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I am thoroughly enjoying Outlander. And am pretty much in love with Jamie Fraser.

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I read an article on forced marriages in Turkey somewhere recently. I know it’s a horrible situation and women are abused, but my first thought was this (God forgive me): At least they have someone else to blame when their spouse is a jerk. Who do I have to blame? Only myself. After all, I not only married him but did it *against* the advice of my mother. I am not really comparing Dan’s leaving food crumbs in the sink drainer and refusing to argue about the space program with me in a civilized manner to what these women endure – beatings, abuse, poverty. But it doesn’t help me feel any better to know that it is ALL MY FAULT.

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OK, there’s *this* novel, History of Love , by Nicole Krauss, married to Jnoathan Safran Foer.

And then there’s *this* novel, The Nanny Diaires by Emma McLaughlin and Nicola Kraus.

And it only took me several months to figure out that the great JSF’s wife did NOT write the (readable) Nanny Diaries and the (execrable) Citizen Girl. No wonder the Krauss-Foers do not invite me to their cocktail parties anymore….

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Got the latest issue of “House and Garden” last week. Dominique Browning had a new Editor photo taken. She looks older but very pretty and dignified in a lovely pink blouse and shoulder-length hair. The hair’s a little Jackie O for me, but overall, very nice shot. Way to go, Dominique. As always, gracious and graceful. Forget Martha, I aspire to be Dominique.

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Your (actually, my) political thought for the day:

A man died and went to heaven. As he stood in front of St. Peter at the Pearly Gates, he saw a huge wall of clocks behind him.
He asked, "What are all those clocks?"
St. Peter answered, "Those are Lie-Clocks. Everyone on Earth has a Lie-Clock. Every time you lie the hands on your clock will move."
"Oh," said the man, "whose clock is that?"
"That's Mother Teresa's. The hands have never moved, indicating that she never told a lie."
"Incredible," said the man. "And whose clock is that one?"
St. Peter responded, "That's Abraham Lincoln's clock. The hands have moved twice, telling us that Abe told only two lies in his entire life."
"Where's Bush's clock?" asked the man.
"Bush's clock is in Jesus' office. He's using it as a ceiling fan."