On My Mind

• I want this election to be over with.

• I thought my purple toe nail was finally starting to heal, and then it fell off Saturday - all of it. Now my husband can't look at my feet. I feel like some sort of mutant.

• How does Anna know what to say in certain situations? The other day we were at the mall and she wanted to go up the escalator, so we did. At the top she sighed, looked at me and said, 'Phew! We made it!' Where does she hear this stuff?

• A Paradise Bakery just opened up by me and I want to go eat a dozen cookies all by myself.

• I don't always watch 'The Biggest Loser' but I do like it. Last night I found myself watching it since it was on pretty late and Anna was in bed. I don't know why but I couldn't stop laughing when Jillian said, 'I have been nice this season. It makes me want to puke all over myself, I have been so nice.'

• Why do stores have online only products? I really wanted this and this for this weekend and when I went to the store to get them, they were no where to be found. I felt stupid when I came home and realized they were only available online and it was too late to get it here on time.

• My brother is getting married this weekend (hence the purchases I wanted above) so we are flying to Arizona on Friday. That is right people. All of my family will be attending, including 4 children (3 of which are under the age of 2). I think this article about sums up how I feel about it getting there.

There needs to be a word for babies that aren't really babies anymore: Nine to 12 months, when they can't walk or talk, but they can stay awake for hours, pull a shelf of books down on their heads and stick their finger in electric sockets. I vote for "Destructo." Our boy hit the Destructo phase six weeks ago. He used to be the easiest, happiest kid! He could play with the same toy for an hour. He could sleep in restaurants or be smuggled into movies. No more. Now he gets his kicks from sticking his face in a dog bowl, or opening a drawer, pulling out all the clothes, then opening and shutting it until he slams his finger.

You don't want to travel with Destructo. We flew cross-country two weeks ago and I am still drinking two glasses of wine every night to recover. OK, three. All right, it's a whole bottle. It was just me and him on the way back. Think about holding a 25-pound fish that's wiggling to get back into the ocean for six hours as the fish emits bloodcurdling screams and you're stressing that everyone hates you. Does that sound like fun? The one silver lining was the 12 different times we went to the bathroom. Destructo really liked the sound the toilet made when it flushed so I kept flushing it even though I was probably harming the atmosphere. When toilet flushing is the highlight of any trip, you know you're in trouble.

Some tips if you're ever on a plane with me and Destructo. First, don't empathize by telling me, "I know how it is, I just flew with our baby for 12 hours, although he slept the whole way." Great! I'm glad your perfect kid slept the whole way and mine didn't! UP YOURS! Second, don't say, "Don't worry about us, we're used to this." What does "this" mean? Being tortured? Just read your Vanity Fair and shut your piehole. Third, don't keep glancing back sadly like you feel bad for me! Just don't! Fourth, if he falls asleep, don't walk by me and say loudly, "He finally fell asleep, huh?" Unless you want a dirty diaper stuck in your carry-on bag. Fifth, if you're the pilot, don't interrupt us every few minutes because you're excited that we might get in four minutes early, or that we're flying over the Grand Canyon when it's pitch-black. You're lucky that door was locked. And sixth, when it's over, don't pretend that Destructo was good as I'm holding clumps of my own hair in my hands and staring into space like a mental patient.
Here's what you can do: If you're the flight attendant, keep bringing me wine like the nice lady did throughout our flight. I don't know where you are, honey, but thank you again! And thanks for not judging me as I stumbled off the plane like Heather Locklear. No jury would convict me.

Only my kid CAN walk and talk...a lot. Which in her case and for everybody's sake on the plane might be worse. Plus I won't be using alcohol as a means for mentally escaping the situation. I am glad it is a short flight. Anyone who has flown with a child who won't sit on their parents lap for the life of them...any tips?