Needy.

Oh hey, lookie here! Blogger is finally BACK! Hallelujah and praise the Chocolate!

So yep, Blogger went AWOL for two days and the whole of the internets went into a near tailspin. You didn't notice, you say? You didn't even MISS ME??

Well fine, then. I'll just slink back into my little corner and...

Awww, who are we kidding here? You could never get rid of me that easily. I'm like that bad spot of hives you get when you're really nervous and you don't want anyone to notice but all that happens is that you repeatedly break out into big gross red bumps that are practically screaming READ MY BLOG! GIVE ME YOUR UNDIVIDED ATTENTION!

In case you were not aware, I'm a bit needy.

Not just when I'm begging people to read this blog, my little home base in a sea of blogs who are all screaming for you attention, but especially when I impose upon your casual interest to ask you to go and read my post today at And Nobody Told Me.

Have I told you lately that I love you?

And that you are beautiful, in every single way?

And I'm out of sappy song lyrics to quote so I'll end here.

(I know you're devastated.)

Have a wonderful, stupendous weekend, friends. I'll be spending it making a dinosaur cake for Nissa, and trying not to be mopey when I think about how fast the past two years have zipped by (which is incidentally, what the topic of my post is today at ANTM).

Trying my darndest to stay present in the moment, and grateful for good friends like you who share my desire to freeze-frame time as it slips away from me like sand...
xoxoxmahreen

 

Three generations of family (my mom in the background, Yousuf pouring and Nissa trying to catch) watching the sand pass through little fingers, 

Not really trying to hold onto it, but not really letting it go either.

Such a unique sensation to feel, and to capture in a photo.

From Russia With Love.

The strangest thing happened to me this morning. I was sitting at the breakfast table, with the girls, as I always do on weekday mornings when Yousuf leaves us to go and earn money so that I can sit at the breakfast table with my girls, in my jammies, and not have anywhere to be, or anything to think about other than the fact that I am grumpy because Yousuf is not around.

Right. So.

The girls and I were sitting down to breakfast, contemplating the dreary day outside, and talking about birdhouses. Why birdhouses, you ask? Well, it's not really important to this story, but if you must know it's because Inara bought a tiny birdhouse with her own savings the other day and she is reallysuperexcited to decorate it, so that lots of birds can come and live inside of it and be warm. The problem is, the birdhouse is tiny. Like it fits into the palm of your hand tiny. So I don't think any actual birds can fit into this birdhouse. But I don't have the heart to break it to her. Or to Nissa, who takes one look at that tiny birdhouse and goes running around the house, arms flapping, yelling at the top of her lungs, "BIIIIIIWWWWD-EEES! COME HOOOOME!".

It's awfully cute. But not, as I said, important to this story.

We were discussing birdhouses, and I was doing that thing that I always do at breakfast. That is, hold a conversation with my children, while holding several virtual conversations online. Because I am a BAD MOTHER. And because it's the only time of the day that I can ensure my children's safety if I half-ignore them. They're sitting right next to me, so there is nothing they can do to hurt themselves or each other (say, like the last time I tried to answer blog comments in the living room and Nissa wandered away into the bathroom and then emptied the entire contents of the trashcan into the toilet. And then tried to fish them all out. I caught her with her face thisclose to going into the water. And that is why I sometimes don't answer blog comments).

Right. So.

I was checking my email, and I noticed a message, but the title of it wasn't in English (English or english? I can never decide). At first I thought it was spam, but when I clicked on it, it absolutely was NOT. But it was in Russian. Odd? Oh, wait. It gets better.

In the contents of that email, I was informed that I had a rather large following of readers. In Russia. I double-checked on that immediately in my blog stats and wouldn't you know it, but it's true! Most of my readers are North American, but there is a rather large Russian readership that up until today, was neglected completely by yours truly (probably because I know nothing about Russia. Sorry, Russian friends!).

And then I was offered a job. From Russia (with love.) Tee hee! I couldn't resist. Sorry again, Russian friends!

The deal is this. I have been offered my first ever paying writing job in real monies. Lots of them, in fact. I'm absolutely shocked that my dream of paid writing might be coming true, even though it's in a rather unconventional way. I will be writing for a Russian publication with a big circulation. I will be writing about, get this...anything I want. I can write about birdhouses, or babies, or the fact that I know absolutely nothing about Russia whatsoever and why am I qualified for this position again WHO CARES WHY?!?!

Because Mama Is Making Money, Baby!

But seriously. I should probably learn more about my targeted audience, right? Does anyone have a really quick primer for me about Russia? I know nothing other than the fact that it's big, it's cold, and they make vodka. And that their capitol building looks like in belongs in a game of Candyland. Oh, come on now. You've been thinking it too!

I'm really excited about this. I have no idea why it has happened to me, or if I'm even qualified for this, but it's huge and amazing, and might just be the break I need to make it to the big time. In Russia. 

I also have no idea how I'm going to balance blogging and writing and birdhouse-ing with the girls, but I'll figure it out, somehow. This is just absolutely amazing, and I am so grateful for the opportunity. I'll end here, but before I go and brush up on my Russian trivia, I thought I'd share the name of the publication with you. I'm having a hard time translating it. Maybe someone out there can help?

It's called:
Попался! Счастливы Апрель Дураки День!

It sounds really cool when you listen to it phonetically. I think that this is going to be so awesome!)

Letting The Wind Carry Me Away.

My laptop died last night, and as a result, this morning I was left without a way to connect to the world, or more importantly, to write. I know I'm going to sound so melodramatic - but I didn't quite fathom just how internet-dependent I was until I was without. I couldn't even publish this post until Yousuf came home and let me steal his laptop!

In the meantime, I think that the little bit of forced computer-detox that I had last night and this morning was good for my soul. It made me think about how I'm so used to doing two (or three) things at once, and how even though it seems as though I'm being super-productive, I'm not really engaging in any one thing. It's been nice not to be so distracted.

I've also been thinking about my kids, and wondering if they noticed a difference today. I don't usually make a habit of ignoring them when I'm blogging - I try to save the writing for when Nissa is napping and Inara is at school. But I won't deny the fact that I'm usually editing pictures or responding to emails while sitting down at the table with the girls for breakfast and lunch. They like to put on music and sing along to tunes while they eat, which gives me the time I need to finish up those tasks.

Today was different, of course. And the girls were happy to have my full attention, but it left me feeling smug (for giving them my undivided attention) and guilty (for not always giving them my undivided attention). I don't know what the right solution is here. I'm sure there are so many of you that have to figure out this delicate balance as well, and there is some measure of comfort in knowing that I'm not the only one who struggles with it.

The greatest confusion I have is not when my personal life is at odds with my not-yet-professional life, but when the two mesh seamlessly. I have great trouble deciding how much of my personal life to share with you, and how much of it you actually want (or need) to know about. I think that many personal bloggers must have this discussion with themselves at one point or another. I'm still figuring it all out.

Take, for example, my great foray into the world of vlogging. At my other gig, there is a section called Video Confessions.  It's a great way for anyone to contribute to our growing community in a completely safe, non-judgmental manner. I've been really excited about the prospect of vlogging, even if it will require me changing out of my sweatpants and actually putting on some makeup.

But of course, I know nothing about vlogging, or about filming things in general, so I decided to take my newly-borrowed HD video recorder out for a test drive first. And who better to film than my family? I took the little video camera out with us a few weeks ago when we met up with our friends to go sledding. I was paying a great deal of attention to the angles, the lighting, and the overall presentation - just as I do with every blog post and accompanying set of pictures.

After I had some fun editing the piece and adding music to it, I realized that it turned out pretty good - good enough for a blog post, even. But why would I write a post about a video of us sledding? I was sure it would serve no purpose other than showcasing my own self-indulgence. So I shelved it until today, when my laptop died and I got to thinking about how sometimes, the inspiration for a post comes when you least expect it...like when you don't have the ability to post at all.

I think ultimately, the point of sharing this video with you is to remind myself that sometimes (like today) it's absolutely fine to just let go, have some fun, and let the wind carry me away.

And as for that vlog?

I still haven't gotten around to doing it, because I've been too busy doing things like this...

(Music by Sloan, Money City Maniacs from the Navy Blues Album, 1998 (such a fine vintage).

...and it's been absolutely marvelous.

Inara's Rainbow.

A while back, I posted about why keeping my babies close to me, by wearing them in baby carriers (babywearing for those of you unfamiliar with the term) means so much to our family. That post was probably the hardest one I have ever had to write, because in it I talked about Inara's difficult infancy, some of her health issues, and the journey we went through to get to where we are today. Very emotional stuffs, indeed.

So that post coincided with the start of International Babywearing Week and as many other babywearers around the world were doing at the time, I changed the profile picture on my personal Facebook page to a babywearing one. Most people changed their pictures to ones of them wearing their little ones, but as I was scrolling through my (countless) babywearing photos, I came across one of Inara wearing one of her dolls in a sling that was made for her by one of my very dearest friends in the whole entire universe (For anonymity's sake, let's just call her "Jen". Which is totally NOT anonymous, but whatever. Why make this even more confusing than it already is?)

Immediately after posting that picture of Inara, my Facebook page lit up with comments. Which I knew would happen, because who wants to see a boring picture of me wearing my babies (been there, done that) when you can have the cutest little mug staring back at you instead?  And that too, a cute little mug wearing her cute little dolly? It was just too cruel to deny the world of that experience (such a modest blogger am I).

One person in particular (for anonymity's sake, let's call her "Tiph". Which again, is totally her real name), went completely bazonkers and demanded to know where I got that little doll sling for Inara and if it was possible for her to get one - not for her kids - but for herself. Errrrmmmm...huh? My friends had seen that picture before, but nobody had ever wanted the sling for themselves. That was new.

As a lark, I told the lovely "Tiph" that it wasn't an actual baby sling, and that if she wanted it for herself she would need to find a way to get it made by - and here was the insane part - emailing a certain baby carrier vendor (Giselle. That's really her name. Anonymity is so overrated.).

ASIDE AND SHAMELESS PLUG: Giselle Baturay is a babywearing legend. She is the hardworking businesswoman behind two well-loved family-owned stores called Granola Babies and Piece Of Cloth and she is also the smart yet sensitive author behind the blog Nurture Baby Naturally. To say that I am in awe of everything she has done for the babywearing community is an understatement. I had the pleasure of working with Giselle when we both served on the Board of Directors of Babywearing International, Inc. and I believe I may have professed my adoration for her on more than one occasion. It may have even been the reason that she decided to step down - I'm sure she didn't sign up to be stalked by a babywearing lunatic. I'm actually surprised that she still talks to me. GISELLE OMG I LOVE YOU WILL YOU BE MY BFF?!?!?!

Ahem.

Okay, now here's where the story gets really exciting. As if it wasn't already.

So "Tiph" emailed Giselle and Giselle saw my picture of Inara wearing the sling that "Jen" made for her. Got it? Good. And then Giselle said this, and I quote:

"Oh my dear lord it's GORGEOUS!!! Thanks Tiph for pointing it out. I think a wrap that color would be so beautiful!! Though....could it be the wearer that brings out the beauty?"

Whereupon Tiph countered with:
"I think she has a little something to do with it Giselle. ;) Maybe we could name it Inara's Rainbow??"

Giselle replied:
"Ooooooh, that would be lovely!!

At this point "Jen" stepped in and offered to send Giselle a piece of the original fabric, and Giselle said:
"Oooh Jen, I'd love a piece of it! I just need a piece of it to make sure we get the color numbers right. Inara's Rainbow is a go!

Thud. That was the sound of my jaw hitting the floor.
Pop. That was the sound of my eyeballs popping out of my head.
Slam. That was the sound of me keeling over in shock and disbelief.

Did you read what just happened there, people? Let's recap:

I posted a picture of my daughter and now she is going to have a baby wrap named after her.

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Yeah. That.

Okay, so I don't even know how to start explaining this to people who aren't "like us". "Us" being People Who Wrap Up Their Children In Fabric. If you'll pardon my French,  this is like every babywearer's wet dream come true (Mom! Don't read that last part!). And honestly, I'm not even slightly kidding at all.

All of a sudden my brain started thinking:
- Inara is going to have a wrap named after her. Holy sheeps.
- I'm going to have to buy this to wrap my baby in, or to save for Inara as a keepsake.
- I need money. How much do kidneys go for these days?
- Wait. I don't have a teeny baby to wrap right now.
- But that can be solved.
- I should shower first.
- INARA IS GOING TO HAVE A WRAP NAMED AFTER HER. GISELLE I LOVE YOU WILL YOU MARRY ME?!?!?!?!

So here's the deal. This is really happening. Giselle is currently working with Girasol, a Berlin-based company that works with Mayan women from Guatemala, who hand-weave baby wraps that are used all over the world. Girasol also pays fair trade wages to the artisans and uses only untreated cotton in their baby wraps (Double fantastic awesome. Gives me the warm fuzzies all over just thinking about this!).

Right now, Giselle is confirming the colors of Inara's Rainbow with Girasol to most accurately reflect the original swatch of fabric. I have it on good authority that this wrap is going to be FANFRICKINGTASTIC (A teaser for all you wrap geeks out there - the weft color is going to be red. Gorgeous!). Giselle is hoping to get a digital swatch of the wrap very soon, and possibly be able to take pre-orders by the end of this month. If all goes according to schedule, she hopes to have Inara's Rainbow here sometime in early February. Perfectly cheery for those wintertime snuggles!

Inara's Rainbow will be an exclusive wrap, sold only through Giselle's store, Piece Of Cloth.  You will be able to find more information about it, as it becomes available, through the Piece Of Cloth/Nurture Baby Naturally Facebook page - so "Like" them now so that you don't miss any updates! I will also be updating everyone here on my blog whenever possible.

I still can't quite believe that this is happening. For my daughter - the baby that I wore close to my heart through so many ups and downs - to have a wrap named after her is thrilling beyond anything I could have ever possibly imagined. That Inara's Rainbow will carry, soothe, and comfort countless other babies around the world is nothing short of a dream come true. This wrap will mean so much more to me than a simple piece of cloth. It is going to be our legacy. And I am so so honored to be a part of it.

So here it is. The face that launched a thousand (Or more? One can always dream!) baby wraps. I am so proud and privileged to present to you...Inara's Rainbow. I hope that her sunny stripes and sweet softness bring you happiness and a lifetime of warm memories. Thank you to everyone who made this possible!

My Kitchen Sink Hates Me And Doesn't Want Me To Have Any Friends.

Yousuf is working tomorrow.  Tomorrow being Saturday.  Yeah.  Mama is NOT happy.

To atone for this grievous misdeed, he promised he'd come home for lunch today to watch the kids so that I could blitz-clean the kitchen.  That's right, people. Kitchen-cleaning is SO RARE in this house that it requires my husband to come home from work in the middle of the day.

Anyway, the plan was to clean because I'm inviting over a dear friend and her lovely kiddos tomorrow so that we can commiserate together about the injustices that require our spouses to spend a part of their weekend away from us ("us" being THE MOST IMPORTANT PEOPLE IN THE UNIVERSE).  This will include eating lots of junk food and letting our kids run amok.  Hopefully we will all survive the morning.

So we have these two silicone muffin tins that really needed washing, and I decided to wash them.  Not just wash, but fill up the sink and soak and actually scrub them clean.  Because once in a blue moon, on an occasion that is no doubt rarer than seeing pigs fly, I like to Get Things Done. 

So I put the pluggy thing in and filled up the sink, squirted some dishsoap in, soaked the nasty tins and started to scrub away.  It was awesome, the grody bits were melting right off like my makeup in the hot summer sun. "Oh, yeah," I remember thinking.  "I can SO do this cleaning thing!" 

And then the sink was filled with dirty muffin-crudded water and I had to let the water out to rinse the pans, because that's what normal people do with their dishes, right?  Except the water was GROSS.  So I took a deep breath and plunged my arm in up to my armpit in disgusting sludgy water to pull out the plug....

AND IT WOULDN'T COME OUT.

So I tried again.  And again.  Each time, plunging in further and further and pulling harder and harder and losing my grip, thereby splashing myself continuously until I was DRENCHED in sodden muffin bits. Barf-ola.  I swear my kitchen sink is out to get me.  It was jealous because I actually wanted to have some FUN tomorrow and so it was punishing me.  Yeah, that's totally it.

Oh, and my "clean" muffin tins were now sitting in this nasty water.  Grrreeeat.  And then Yousuf had the AUDACITY to announce that he had to get going.  Uh-uh.  No way, buddy.  We are DROWNING in wet muffin sludge and there is NO WAY you are leaving.

That's when he came into the kitchen, took a look around, sighed, and said:  "You put the plug in the wrong way, didn't you?"

"What?  Who? ME?  NEVER.  I know about sinks, mister.  I KNOW how to put in a flipping sink plug, okay?"

"Well, have you ever done it before?"

At this point I am downright PISSED.  Because what kind of a question is that?  Of COURSE I've washed dishes before...under running water...and oh CRAP!!!

"Ummm...so maybe there is a chance that I haven't done it before.  Here.  In this house.  But I HAVE filled up a sink before.  Sometime in my life.  JUST FIX THIS FOR FRICKS SAKE!"

And I have to give the man credit, he didn't even laugh at me.  Oh, there was definitely some smirking going on, but I think he was far more disgusted by the fact that HE had to stick his hand into the muffin slime at this point.  I almost told him that it was his fault for working on a Saturday, because it totally is -- if he wasn't working tomorrow, I wouldn't have invited my friend over, therefore I would have had no desire to clean up, and we wouldn't have had to build a raft to sail ourselves out of our kitchen filled with post-muffin-goo infested waters.  But I didn't say that.  But I totally wanted to.  Because it's TRUE.

In the end, he had to trudge down to the basement and get PLIERS to pry the plug out.  Yeah, so apparently I totally FUBARed that up, and the plug was in upside down.  But you have to see this plug - IT'S NOT NORMAL.  It's up and it's down are BASS ACKWARDS.  And that's because my kitchen sink HATES ME.

Here is a normal sink plug. In a normal, loving, supportive kitchen sink:

You will notice that there is a part that sticks out ON THE BOTTOM of the plug. My demon-spawn sink plug also has a sticky-outy bit on it, that fits PERFECTLY into the hole of my very anti-social, jealous, and abusive sink:

The other side also has a convenient handle to pull out the plug.  Or so I thought before I was neck-deep in dirty, grimy muffin nasties and realized that IT DIDN'T WORK because MY KITCHEN SINK IS EVIL.

Not-so convenient handle of the hateable plug of the even more hateable sink:

What kind of messed up sink has a plug with a handle ON THE WRONG SIDE?!?  Just mine, because it's punishing me for wanting friends.  I HATE YOU, SINK!  I HOPE YOU'RE RECYCLED INTO A PRISON TOILET!

So the moral of the story is that I'm not allowed to have any friends because my sink is an evil, friend-hating monstrosity.  Or maybe the moral is that I don't know how to do the dishes.  Or that I shouldn't even pretend to try to clean up. Whatever.  My sink SO hates me.

And P.S. to my friends:  I'm not cleaning up for you ever again. You'll just have to deal with it, or else you might find me being attacked by my dishwasher next time.

Spring Break

Yousuf came home on Friday and informed me that he was on Spring Break.  We have been so busy lately that we completely forgot we had a week long vacation coming up.  What kind of people forget that they have a week off?!?!  Clearly we need some serious help.

Because we forgot about Spring Break, we are obviously not going away anywhere.  Instead of making wonderful family memories on the shores of some tropical sunny beach, we are going to be making and packing boxes in the dank, dark basement to get ourselves ready to move.  Oh joy, oh bliss...I can hardly wait.  Both Yousuf's parents and my parents are visiting (not at the same time), so hopefully they can keep the kidlets entertained while we work (I don't wanna work!  I just want a VACATION!!!).

I am going to go light on the blog-posting this week because I'm going to PRETEND that I'm on vacation, even if I can't have one.  Even if Yousuf makes me pack boxes I will sit in the dark, dank basement with a (non-alcoholic) umbrella drink in hand and I don't care who laughs at me.  It's MY fake vacation (fake-ation?) and I deserve to do with it as I please.  So there.

I'm also going to try to do some spring cleaning here on the blog.  There are a couple new things I'd like to add, and will be working on those in the background.  The first will be easy - the blog desperately needs a Search Box (so that you can find all those amazing recipes that I know you keep coming back for.  Right?  Riiiiiight?).  I'd also like to do an Archives page, but I have no idea how to do that so I'm basically talking out my bum and will have to do a bit of research first.

Lastly, I'd like to do a FAQ, but as I have no idea what people would Frequently Ask me Questions about, I thought that you - the people who have taken a peek into my crazy life and not run away screaming in terror - might like to help a girl out. So...whaddya you want to know about me (I'm for sure going to let you know how to pronounce my name.  It's the least I can do, after all that we've shared)?   Drop me a line at mahreen at venividiblogi dot com or post your questions below.  I'm game to answer just about anything, and I'm sure it will make for one very interesting FAQ.

Also, if you have any ideas for recipes, I'm always willing to try them out - we are vegetarian so if you send me a recipe for roast meat in meaty-meat sauce with a side of meat salad then there is a slim chance that I will pass.  But if you come across a recipe (bonus points for healthy, extra bonus points for desserts!) you'd like me to blog about please send it along to the same email address: mahreen at venividiblogi dot com 

Feel free to email me anytime about suggestions on how to make this blog better, rants, raves or whatever else.  I really do love hearing from you, even if I sound ornery.  I'm not really like that in real life.  It's mostly because I blog when I'm uncaffeinated.  I know I should stop, but then I wouldn't be nearly as funny as I am now.

And as always, I will be forever grateful if you should decide to share my blog with the world. Go on...click the little ShareThis button...you know you want to. 

Thanks for being there, friends.  I wouldn't be blogging if it weren't for you!

 Nice picture, eh?  Too bad it's not us.  Happy Spring Break, indeed.

Hello, World...Now Please Pass the Manti-Perspirant

So yesterday this blog came out of the closet.

You might be asking yourself, "Self, why the heck does this crazy woman have a blog with ACTUAL posts, if she only told people about it yesterday?"

And your Self might just answer, "Who knows?  Maybe because she's nuts.  Maybe because she forgot to tell people.  Maybe because she has no friends.  Or maybe because she was waiting to inject subliminal messages into her content so that she can turn us all into her brain-dead minions. And then do her evil bidding.  Which of course would include leaving the house in a shirt covered with baby schmutz and mismatched socks.  But wait a minute...I already do that!  So what the FLIP is this chick playing at?"

And while most of the above is true (except for the part about turning all of you into my brain-dead minions.  That's only half-true.  I'm still working on my 5-year plan on that one) - the real truth is that I am a very fragile flower (read: self-centered) with very sensitive feelings (read: afraid of rejection) and I'm just a *teensy* bit anal (read: probably has OCD) and so I wanted to make sure that things around here looked good before I told anyone.  I was gadgetizing my widgets and widgetizing my gadgets and stuff like that.  Don't I just sound SO professional?

And of course the stone cold truth is that I was also plain procrastinating.  Because I just want you to like me.  I really really do!  Because it's ALL ABOUT ME. Memememememememe. There, I said it - and now of course I feel like a royal putz.

In the midst of all this pathetic self-involvement, the tragedy of the earthquake struck Haiti and it made me take a step back for just a second.  In the middle of diaper changes I realized that I needed to say something about it, and that I wanted people to hear me.  Too many times us Mamas don't get heard.  We don't get the chance to say that we are smart, caring, and involved in the world around us.  That we can make a difference.  And so I posted about Haiti, took a very deep (caffeine-laced) breath and hit Publish, and then I did the unthinkable.  I shared my post...eeeeeeek!

What would people say?  Would they like me?  Would they in turn share my post with the world?  Would I actually get to hit the ground running and do something totally amazing and useful with my blog (how novel)?  The rest of the day was spent with me camped out in front of my laptop, sweating bullets and compulsively hitting Refresh.  I didn't eat.  I didn't talk.  I didn't even PEE.  Thank Whatever that Yousuf was home because I will be the first to admit that I totally neglected my family yesterday.

As the evening wore on and NOBODY responded to my post, things went from bad to worse.  The sweat stains grew and grew to the point where I actually STOLE Yousuf's anti-perspirant because I needed a hit of the Good Stuff.  I was a complete and utter mess.  And I just know Yousuf was thinking that this "blog stuff" was SO not going to be worth it if I acted like a addict going through withdrawl every time I posted.  But I promised him that I wouldn't always be like this.  That I would get help.  That I would buy my own prescription-strength Manti-persiprant.

Finally, like a beacon shining on the blackest night, my amazing friends (who probably felt sorry for me, and thus compelled to write something) responded.  And all was right with the world.  Even if it was only THREE people who said: "Hey! Good Job!  You're only slightly less nuts than we always suspected!", it was enough to get me through the night.  But seriously folks, I can't go on like this.  I don't think the manti-perspirant can handle it either - so I'm just going to keep doing my thing and you can take it or leave it.  But I really hope you take it....because I'm sweaty and insecure and I NEED YOU.

There's still some things that need doing around here - I want to add a Search function and a FAQ, and I have Other Plans.  Oh baby, do I have Plans (hint: keep in mind that my ultimate plan is to turn you into my personal army of zombie minions) but that will all come in time.  For now - I'm here, and I have things to say.  I just hope you'll stick around to listen.

Oh, and I promised a dear friend that this would not just be a blog where I regale people with tales of my adorable children and their delightful antics, but I lied.  So there.

  Hi.  My name is Mahreen, and my kids are freakishly adorable.  This is my blog.