Sitting here on the couch and all I hear is the sound of the air conditioner running. Blessed, blessed peace.

Robert went to bed last night around 11:00 and I stayed up, fully expecting that this morning would bring our usual weekend routine of he getting up with the kids and myself sleeping in. By the time I signed off the computer and puttered around a bit, it was past 1:00. Then I awoke around 6:30 and couldn't get back to sleep. "No matter," I told myself. "I'll just lie here until Eliza wakes up and Robert departs the bed, and I'm sure I'll get some more sleep after that."

What I did not take into account was the fact that my husband has had a slight cold for several days and that he would end up having one of those mornings where myself and all three kids were on the bed, next to him, talking and laughing and bouncing around, and he still wouldn't wake up (or pretended not to wake up, at least). I finally gave up and brought the kids to the living room myself.

Needless to say, I'm running a bit short on sleep today. Eliza went for her nap around 11 and I did lie down and rest some, but she got up not too long after I did and I'm still feeling stretched a bit thin. Consequently, Robert, being the kindhearted and indulgent soul that he is, said that he would take her along to his dad's house for a couple of hours. (Usually he only takes the older two, being that they are pretty easy to keep entertained over there.)

So now here I sit, basking in the quiet. I have a takeout order which should be delivered in the next ten minutes or so and then I'm going to relax, eat my lunch without sticky or slimy little fingers creeping into it, and watch some of the Frasier reruns I've TiVo'ed. (Every so often I will attach myself to a particular old favorite t.v. show and really enjoy watching the whole series all the way through. Right now it's Frasier. I'd forgotten just how funny that show was.)

Ahhhh....it may not be exciting, or glamorous, or sophisticated, but some days there's nothing I like better than the prospect of what lies before me this late afternoon. When I've spent the entire week being pulled at and screeched at by a cranky toddler this is just what I need.

I just turned on Teletubbies for Eliza.

She has been a bit of a pain the past few days -- whiny, complaining, fussy and snot-nosed. When I noticed that there are suddenly quarts of drool pouring out of her mouth (seriously, I had to change her and put a bib on her this morning after she'd soaked the front of her first outfit) it occurred to me to look in her mouth. Sure enough, she's getting ALL FOUR of her canines at once. They are the only teeth she doesn't have yet. Historically, my kids have all been easy teethers -- I didn't even realize she was getting her molars until they were already through. But I guess the quadruple whammy is too much even for her to take. Poor kid.

Anyway, she was crabbing around here a few minutes ago. I woke up this morning with a headache and the whingeing was making my head feel like it was about to explode. So, when I saw Teletubbies on the program guide, I decided to give it a whirl. The show was banned in our house when Mad was little because, at the time, I thought the 'Tubbies were little rainbow-colored anti-Christs. I later relented and JZ watched it occasionally because it was one of the few things at which he'd even look. Eliza is now enthralled, dancing with the 'Tubbies and telling them "Bye-bye" as they disappear. I know it's basically eye candy for toddlers (or, judging by the way Eliza is staring at it, eye crack cocaine is more like it). But, guess what? It's quiet. She's not being a crabapple any more.

Turns out I actually can tolerate this show in small doses. There are a lot more shows that get on my nerves way more than Teletubbies. My grandma actually used to watch it. She thought they were so cute, so I bought her a Tinky Winky doll. :) It reminds me of her, so, while I know I should be horrified that it's on my t.v., I can't bring myself to think it's all bad. After all, if this is the most annoying thing Eliza ever likes, we'll be doing alright.

Barney just came on, though, and you can bet I grabbed for the remote, fast as lightning. I still have some standards, you know.

Five minutes ago Eliza was wearing a diaper and an oversized t-shirt. However, I just looked at her and she's now starkers. I had seen her tugging at her diaper but it took me a moment to remember she'd also been wearing the shirt and had gotten out of it, too. Apparently we have a stripper on our hands. She seems quite pleased with herself and I'm wondering if this is going to become a habit. Neither of the other two kids ever did this. EVER. I was still helping Madalyn undress when she was five!

She's now sitting on the hearth (one would think the tile would be frigid on the nakey butt), trying to put on one of her brother's deck shoes. I suppose I ought to go catch her before she does something on the floor that we'll both regret.

This is probably the extent of my entertainment for the day. Sad, but true.

My birthday is coming up in a mere thirty-seven days. (No need to exclaim; it's not a big deal. I mean it - once again, for the fifth year in a row, it's not going to be a big deal, through no fault of my own. More on that later if I ever quit simmering over it.)

For my own edification, and that of my husband, who is maybe not in the doghouse, but is hanging out on its lawn over this, I am compiling a birthday gift wish list which will also serve as my Christmas list. Just choose a few gifts for the birthday, subtract those from the list, and buy the rest for Christmas. Very handy, that.

Obviously I wouldn't say 'no' to accepting any of these gifts from people other than Robert, but since my tastes run to the pricey side this year I'm not holding my breath. ;)

Here goes:

That's not asking too much, is it?

Mama would be the one with those blues, here; not the kids.

Both Madalyn and John-Zachary have been delivered to their third-grade and kindergarten classrooms, respectively. They were fine. I, not so much. Oh, I'm not in the depths of despair or anything but I will admit to feeling a bit blue. Part of this is due to the plain fact of summer being over. I, as I have often stated, hate the school-year routine. I dislike all the work we have to do every night to be ready for school the next morning. Getting up early is the pits, as is rushing around trying to get ready and get to school on time. Plus I resent being at the mercy of the public school system when it comes to my schedule.

Besides that, though, I am a little sad for another reason. The summer went by so fast and, somehow, it has suddenly struck me how few summers we have left with the kids being little. Sure, on paper it may seem like a lot -- Madalyn isn't even eight yet. But these three months blew by in a flash, and last school year went by very quickly, as well. I have no reason to believe this year won't be the same (especially with the busyness of having all three attending at least part of the time). Before I know it, it will be summer again and that summer, too, will be over in a heartbeat. And so it will continue on down the line until we only have two kids home during the summer....then one....then none. Not to mention that, sure, we may have another nine summers before the first one leaves the nest, but how many more of those will she actually want to spend the entire time with her family? We have very few years left before Madalyn starts branching out and leaving us behind, at least for part of the summer. JZ won't be too far behind.

Ah, but perhaps I'm getting a bit ahead of myself. After all, I'm sitting here, right now, with a small toddler next to me, who's trying to put on a pair of shorts and squawking in frustration because she can't quite figure it out. Just an hour ago I was worrying that JZ would be too bashful to ask his teacher to go to the bathroom when needed. So maybe we've got a little more time than I'm so pessimistically projecting. Still, though, it does remind me that we need to savor each day and not wish our lives away by rushing time to get to some far-off point in the future.

Enough philosophy. How about a couple first-day-of-school pictures?

Cat + leash = not so grate, akshully.

Funny for the rest of us, though.

There were tears on Madalyn's part when Robert left for work tonight.

He got home late last night because he had court this morning. Then his dad was receiving a service award tonight and Robert stayed to go to the ceremony. He came back afterward to get his things and leave. It was late and the kids had already been put to bed but heard him and got up again. As he was saying goodbye to Madalyn she started to cry. He let both kids get up and follow him around while he got the rest of his stuff together. They walked him to the door, said goodbye and gave hugs again, watched him walk to the car....and then ran out the door to hug him some more and wave as he backed down the driveway. As I tucked them into bed a second time, she cried a little more.

It has been a while since there were tears from either one when their daddy left. They're mostly used to it; or, at least, that's been my perception. Perhaps they aren't quite as at peace with it as I've been thinking. I think Madalyn was tired; she'd cried two times already today over other things. I'm sure that put her in a sensitive state of mind and weakened her ability to deal with his leaving as well as she usually does. Additionally I think maybe having him come home midweek, for such a short amount of time, disrupted the schedule to which they are accustomed and made his leaving tougher. Usually when he comes home he's here for the next three days.

Whatever the reason, it drives home to me, once again, that this (Robert's job situation) was just a temporary solution to one set of problems, and brought with it an entirely different set of issues. I distracted Madalyn by talking about all the fun stuff we'll be doing in the next month or two, focusing especially on the State Fair. Once we got to talking about rides, she cheered up. But it was just a Band-Aid, and Band-Aids only hold for so long. We really need for Robert to find a comparable job here so he can be home every day as he used to be. Our prayers are that it will happen before the year is out.

Why, in the name of Genghis Khan's purple spotted undershorts, does this make me laugh so much?

(Link lifted from List of the Day)

1) Johnny, upon entering the room with a toy dog in one hand, a frog in the other, waving his arms and running in place: "My Webkinz are controlling my body! Ahhhhhh!" (Note to self: Google "Webkinz + demonic possession" and check results.)

2) I really cannot get over the cuteness of Eliza with her dolls. She has now appropriated Madalyn's American Girl Bitty Baby to add to her collection (Mad's never played with the darned thing, anyway). When she wraps her fat little arms around one of the "babies" and carries it around the room I just want to grab her and nibble on her.

3) Speaking of toys, this? Best investment EVAH. (Though the price reflected there is nowhere near what I paid; it was much less.) I can't count the number of times a day she goes in and out of that little door. She'll take toys or her cup in there and sit, playing happily, for quite a while. I don't know how much I've spent on toddler toys over the years, only to have most of the purchases hold little interest, so it's great when I actually hit one out of the park.

4) I went to see The Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants 2 this evening. I've read all the books so I felt an obligation. It was good but it made me kind of sad, because I'll never have friends like that. Friends, sure; I don't mean to invalidate the people who are nice to me. The four-way friendship portrayed in the books/movies, though...it's way beyond your standard fare. And due to my reclusiveness and general inability to network, I doubt any of my kids will grow up with that type of friend, too. Which kinda sucks of me.

5) We are now at T-minus eight days and counting until the start of the new school year. I am bewildered and baffled by the rapid disappearance of our summer break. Frankly, and I think this is a testament to the extremity of my laziness and distaste for authority, I wish we could home school so I could avoid the nine months of rushing and running that comes when one has three children going to three different schools.

6) I just took a micro-nap that was disguised as a really long blink. I guess that's my signal to head for bed (the blurred vision and dark gray shadows under my eyes weren't indicative enough, I guess).

This is mainly for my own records, but feel free to peruse, on the off chance you are needing to be talked out of buying a Chrysler/Dodge vehicle. This is current through this afternoon; list to be updated as will, undoubtedly, be necessary.

April 2006: Bought 2002 Dodge Ram 1500 Van. Has less than 35k miles on it and was in excellent condition. We're thrilled.

November 2006: Ran over object in road which punctures the gas tank, resulting in over $1500-worth in repairs to replace said gas tank. On the surface, this wouldn't appear to be Dodge's fault. However, the object was a small one -- it was flat, in fact. Apparently it bounced up when I nicked it with the tire and did the damage, which leads to a question: what kind of idiot designs a vehicle with the gas tank placed in a position where it can be punctured by random small objects?

January 2007: I attempt to start the van and find the key will not turn. No amount of muscle or wiggling or reinserting does any good. It is late at night so I can't call anyone. It occurs to me to Google the problem and I discover that this is a well-known and widespread issue with Dodge vehicles. The only "solution" is to replace the ignition shaft to the tune of several hundred dollars, and the problem is equally likely to recur with the new shaft as with the old one. I read about a quick fix, which is to whack the key firmly into the ignition with a solid object, after which it will turn. As of 8/7/08, I have gone from having to whack the key once every few weeks to get it to turn to now having to pound it a number of times nearly every time I want to start the van.

Date unknown, 2007: Van won't start at random times and needs to be jumped. Turns out to be a bad battery cable. Fixed, but after two visits to mechanic.

Date unknown, 2007: Check engine light comes on. There's a leak in the evap line. It's fixed fairly quickly, but at our expense and inconvenience. Also fixed while we were there: the back seat seatbelt which, inexplicably, has become unscrewed from its lower mooring.

October 2007: The long and horrific Computer Saga begins and drags on until January 2008. During these three months, I have use of the van for less than 24 hours, total. Thinking about it makes me vair, vair tired so I will just provide links: Dodge Wars Episode I: The Saga Begins, Dodge Wars 2: Electric Boogaloo, I Fought the Dodge and the Dodge Won, The Resolution.

Spring 2008: Brakes begin making godawful noise which sounds like metal-on-metal grinding. ("Tonight on the Auto Fetish Network: Naked Brake Grinding! Hot metal-on-metal action!") Take it in for repairs (NOT at local Dodge dealership); never quite sure what it is that is wrong, as they didn't explain it and I, frankly, am SO over it. I'm just thrilled to get out of there in under 24 hours and for less than 200 bucks.

July 2008: Robert arrives in California with the van and says, "Oh, by the way, it started making a clunking/banging noise on the drive out here." (Robert: "We should have it looked at." Me: "F**********ck!!!") When parked, one front wheel is tilted inward. Parents' mechanic neighbor takes it to his garage and finds the entire front wheel apparatus is hanging on by a thread. As in, we should be happy that the whole damned thing didn't fall off while Robert was driving down the highway. This is #2 on the list of Things About This Van That Could Potentially Have Killed Us. Neighbor reattaches appendage properly and we have the wheels aligned the next day. Begin wondering if I can hire a hitman to kill van and make it look like an accident.

August 2008: Effing check engine light on again. I take the thing to the guys in Norman again. There's another leak in the evap line. Either the previous mechanics did a crappy job fixing it the first time or it's just poorly made. Knowing what I now know about all the elements involved, I'd say the odds are split about 50/50 in favor of either explanation. One of the horde of salesmen who are circling the repair lounge, vulture-like, says they quit making Ram vans a few years ago, to which I reply, "Really? I can't imagine why."

Same day: After the Norman Dodge guys told me to come back at 1:00 so they could look at the van, I take the kids to lunch. When we come out of the restaurant, the van starts and we drive away. A half-mile down the road I realize that none of the lights on the instrument panel (blinkers included) nor the stereo are working. It's completely dead. I report this when I give the keys to the associate. A few minutes later he comes in and says that everything worked just fine when he started it to move it inside, and that is must've just been that the key didn't click back after I turned it all the way to start the engine. Whatever. Everything is normal the rest of the day and this morning. However, as I'm driving home around noon, I hit a bump -- and the instrument panel goes dark. Stereo shuts off. Blinkers dead. When I get home I turn off and restart and everything comes on.

Keep in mind, folks, that the odometer just turned over to 70k miles yesterday. We shouldn't be having all these issues. And, yet, I see another trip to Norman Dodge in our future. They can fix whatever the bloody flipping hell it is that's wrong with it THIS time, plus the damned thing needs new shocks, too. Then maybe I'll have them take it out to the parking lot, strap five hundred pounds of TNT to it, and blow it into a million itty-bitty chunks of scrap metal. I wonder if that's covered under the warranty?

I'm just going over my blog stats from July and, as always, read the search engine results with great interest. My stats, you see, list the various words or phrases which people plugged into a search engine that then brought them to my site.

What astounds me is the number of people searching for "www.incorrigiblenightowl.com". Okay....correct me if I'm missing something blatantly obvious, but if you know the entire URL of the site, why do you need to Google it? Couldn't you just plug the URL into your browser and come straight here? I keep thinking it must have something to do with cookies or trackbacks or spam or something. I had 23 searches for my URL last month. Surely there can't be that many people who just do not get the concept.

Another confusing thing is that one of the searched phrases was "may i just take a moment to say how much i adore the band on the run album? thanks. i feel better now." This is a post from my Beatleblog, in its entirety, and verbatim, at that. Now, I sincerely doubt that someone read the post and remembered it, word-for-word, when they couldn't even remember where they'd seen it. And it's too random a collection of words for someone to have matched accidentally. So what gives, there? More spam activity, perhaps?

My favorite search string for last month, though, has to be "breast suction in s&m". Um...wow. I am racking my brain trying to figure out which combination of my posts yielded a match on that one. One thing I can guarantee is that those three words definitely did not appear together when I posted them!