* Do you have the Monday blahs on this fine Monday? Mine are less pronounced today than usual because my mother-in-law is visiting and distracting the children so they don’t over-blah me.

* Elvis’s baptism was on Saturday. It was a lively one. He was so excited, he could hardly wait. He knew his baptism was supposed to happen at 1:00 p.m., and when 1:00 p.m. came and he was not immediately put in the water, he became very anxious. In retrospect we should have explained that the actual baptism would be more like 1:15 or 1:20, since we had to sing a song and pray and listen to a (relatively) short talk on baptism, given by his grandmother, who had flown in especially for the event. He just barely made it through the opening exercises. He kept fidgeting and protesting, “I need to get baptized!” It was probably a good thing that he was so restless; it kept Grandma from yammering on too long. When the time finally came, he provided useful commentary for anyone who couldn’t tell what was happening: “I’m going in the water. I’m getting very wet.” He came out of the water exultant. The miracle part came later when he actually remained quiet throughout his entire confirmation. An overall triumph, I must say. (FYI, I have an Elvis’s baptism-themed post up at By Common Consent here, for those who care.)

* To celebrate Elvis’s baptism we went to a teppanyaki restaurant for dinner. Elvis was unimpressed until they put some oil on the grill and set it on fire. Then he was delighted. “Watch out!” he shouted. Girlfriend was so mesmerized by the chef’s performance that she actually ate her food. I was very pleased.

* While at Elvis’s baptism, a white-haired gentleman came up to me and said, “Believe it or not, I used to have a head of hair the same color as yours.” I almost told him that he could have it again with Clairol Perfect 10. But I decided not to break the illusion this time. Ordinarily I’m very open about the fact that my red hair is fake. I feel guilty claiming it as my own. Which is another reason why I think getting a boob job would be a bad idea. Whenever anyone told me how great I looked, I’d probably feel obligated to say, “Oh, they’re not real.” Which wouldn’t be the most gracious way to accept a compliment.

* The other day one of my Facebook friends put up as her status “Asparagus + Beets = mildly alarming urine.” And I thought, “Really? Are we posting updates about our urine now? Is this how we’re rolling on the Facebook?” But really, who am I to judge? (It’s a theological question. I’ll be revisiting it again soon, I’m sure.)

* I have hit a wall in the dinner-planning department. Figuratively, an enormous brick wall. It’s been going on for the last three weeks or so, at least. I’ve allowed myself to become paralyzed by everyone’s tastes and preferences and dining sensibilities, and I can no longer think of what it is that people eat or ought to eat anymore. It’s a serious problem, because I’ve got a good…lifetime of meal-planning ahead of me, so…I don’t know how much longer I can fake it. I might need an intervention soon. I don’t know what that would entail, but it sounded like something that would help me. Interventions are for helping, right?

* Princess Zurg’s birthday is on Thursday, and I have no idea what to give her. I don’t expect you to know, either. I’m just telling you, a teenage girl should not be this hard to shop for. And she isn’t, really. She’ll be happy with some random crap from Hot Topic. I think the problem is that I would like to give her something more meaningful than random crap. But I guess that’s what the gift of life was all about. So what am I stressing over? Who is she to demand more from me???

* We will be holding Princess Zurg’s birthday party sometime over the remainder of this month. I know I swore last year that I would never, ever, EVER host another sleepover for her Hyperactive BFF’s from Hell, but she has rejected every other party option we have suggested. She’s starting to think we just don’t want her to be happy. Which is only a little bit true. She didn’t even fall for that “I gave you the gift of life” spiel. I’m completely at a loss, gentle readers. But it looks like I will have another blogworthy episode to write about, if nothing else. God help me.

* I’m going to let you kids enjoy what’s left of your Monday (which isn’t much, for those of you in the more easterly time zones), and get on with the important business of informing my husband that we are having Thai takeout for dinner. Ciao, babies.

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