“What if our house was up in flames right now? And Mina was out front with a smug look on her face.”

“Yeah. With a leather motorcycle jacket on. And a bottle of a tequila in her hand.”

“Laughing.”

“Wasted. All that’s what you get for having the baby.”

The state of my mind is as such that if I tried to write a cohesive blog post with beginning, middle and end, it would sound pretty bad and forced, so I’m settling for a few brief sentences about life in general before I begin a total blog revolution (well, personal blog revolution, that is, wherein I write a lot, hell yes, that’s a revolution). And speaking of revolutions…

Who watched the sneak preview of “Jamie Oliver’s Food Revolution“? And who thought it was totally, totally awesome? I cannot possibly dredge up the negative energy it would take to say that it is “unrealistic” or won’t work because our country is too set in its ways. How depressing. Go Jamie, go!

You wanna know what else? Cara McDonough’s Clutter Revolution. In this house. Yeah, for real. You’ll see.

I spent the past few days in Maine with Nora and my parents. She ran around outside in the chilly air with rosy cheeks picking up stray pine cones and rocks in the driveway, exploring and breathing in the fresh Maine air. Also at one point during a quiet dinner out (all the dinners out are quiet in Boothbay pre-summer because no one in their right mind goes up there) she started yelling “Poopy! Poopy!” and then she did one. I understand why people get annoyed with children but also, come on, they’re hilarious.

I am way waaaaayyyyyyy into “L.A. Candy,” despite, admittedly, at first criticizing LC for the dialouge. In fact, I’m a little tempted to read it right now…

I had to take Mina to the vet this morning to get something checked out and decided that I should finally act on a decision I’d made some time ago, which is that we should switch veterinarians because a) the one we go to isn’t that close to our house and b) the one we go causes me unnecessary guilt, like the time Cecilia had low blood sugar (what in the name of God were they doing checking her blood sugar, anyway?) and the doctor was all, “Did someone forget to feed you guys breakfast this morning?” and I looked at her, and then looked down at the baby strapped to my chest, and then looked at the two dogs I rescued from the streets and from certain euthanasia, and I was like, “You know what? I did.”

So I called the new vet I’d picked (which, by the way, is affiliated with our old vet, thus slightly deflating my victoriousness), made an appointment, and then called the old vet to have them fax over the dogs’ immunization records. And what I told the woman who answered the phone was - a lie, admittedly - that, “we love you guys but this other vet is just so much closer to our house.”

And do you know what the woman said to me? She said, “Well, you obviously don’t love us enough.” Like, not in a cute or affectionate or joking tone, but in a real, honest-to-God, mean way. Can you believe that? The good news is that the new vet is awesome and Mina didn’t even try to bite anyone and in the examination room there was a picture of a dog (”goggy!”) with glasses on that Nora couldn’t get enough of. Clearly I made the right decision.

I mean, fucking Monday.

Apologies for the vitriol, but even on this glorious, I-can-feel-a-hint-of-spring-in-the-air-afternoon, I feel like getting way, waaaaaaaay under the covers and turning on a feel good movie that I’ve seen 700 times, like maybe “Best in Show,” and waiting for tomorrow to show up.

I was just discussing with a friend how it’s a weird feeling to have the “Monday blues,” or whatever you want to call them, when you don’t work in an office. It seemed ok in the workplace, like everyone was in it together and maybe you’d all go out for a drink after the terrible day was over or you’d eat the donuts that so-and-so had graciously brought in that morning, and you’d all talk about how it really isn’t that bad.

And sidenote, it isn’t. I’m in complaining mode because I had a truly wonderful weekend. A weekend that included good friends, and new friends, and family, and the sun setting over a marsh and then the next day, a sun setting over a big rock. Fried oysters. Espresso made by a nice woman in the Italian section on a 40-year-old espresso machine made in Italy! Candid talks around what myself and a few others dubbed a bong drink, which, believe me, has nothing to do with drugs and everything to do exactly what I love about cocktail parties.

So the fact that I’m feeling dejected today because it’s over? Boo hoo, I know. But what I’m really trying to get at is that dealing with this feeling without the office is a strange thing. Suggestions?

Even as I type, though, the feeling is fading and the sun is getting low, which means it’s almost Tuesday. And even though Tuesday, for me, means another long day of working on my computer, at least it’s Tuesday, and Tuesday, for inexplicable reasons is, obviously, just so, so much better.

“You know what would be awesome? If Nora walked in here with bagels and hot coffee and was like, ‘Hey guys, I made you breakfast. Thanks for taking such good care of me.’”

“She will someday. When she’s 24. And she’s home from medical school.”

“Oh. I see.”

“Or she’s back from the artists’ colony. Or out on bail.”

“So many choices.”

“What do you think Nora will be?”

“Good question.”

“I was just reading in National Geographic about plans to colonize Mars. Do you know how long it’s gonna take? To make Mars livable? It’s a thousand year plan.”

“So I guess she won’t be living on Mars.”

“No. Probably not.”

Oh my God, I know. I’ve been sucking at this blog, and I don’t even like using the word “suck” guys (have I told you I’m prudish in some ways or what?), that is how much I mean it.

The problem is that I do not know how to organize my life anymore. That sounds bad, I realize, like I’m flying around with a sheaf of papers trailing out behind me and my hair wild and I’m wearing a burlap sack or something. But actually, I’m busy and I really like it. I’m working on a few projects, which is terrific, but I haven’t quite gotten the hang of allotting time for each aspect of my working life. Or in the case of this blog, my favorite hobby.

We’ve also been busy in other ways, including a wonderful trip over Presidents Day weekend to New York City and thereabouts with some good friends, during which my passenger-side mirror was ripped from my car, and hanging by a few wires when we found it the next morning, and the oh-so-dutiful boys duct-taped it back on so it wouldn’t go flapping around when we were on the highway. Oh, wait, did I mention that in addition to being really busy, I have also been very classy lately?

I’ll post a few pictures later on because I think a visual will help you out on that one.

Seriously, though, it’s all been so much fun, and even when it’s stressful I don’t mind because it’s stressful in a good way, if that makes sense. J was saying this weekend that while this winter has been bitterly cold, it doesn’t seem as long and dreary as last year’s. This winter has flown by, he remarked. I know what he means. Last winter our life as a family was new and charming and exciting, but I remember at times feeling as though my primary goal in life was to explain to my husband - every second of every day - how hard it was to stay at home with a baby. I couldn’t stress it enough.

I don’t ever feel that way anymore - not ever - for many reasons. The moms I’ve become friends with, and the activities Nora and I have become involved in and the fact that, now, I consider an afternoon at home a welcome respite instead of something that makes me feel lonely. Also, work. I think that feeling satisfied and whole as a mother takes a lot, including the above, but for me the biggest one has been work. Or, I should clarify, work beyond being a mother.

So frantic, yes, but I love the thought that when we look back on this time we will look back on a whirlwind of activities and landmarks and changes. Chasing a near-running toddler and Starsong the purple pony. Professional deadlines and frustrations and successes, and obsessively watching “The Wire” at home. Throwing all our stuff in our bag for a weekend trip and then not having time to unpack it again before the next one. Reading “Goodnight Moon” five hundred times a night and snow days and finally working out regularly. Packing up my computer and taking Nora over to her grandparents so I can get some writing done. Putting on our coats for the millionth time, and waiting for spring.