Oh Geez--there's a blog called Nan's World that isn't mine. I don't even know the name of my own blog. They say that you lose brain cells with each pregnancy, but really.... It's amazing I remember my own name most day. Oh, yeah--it's "Mommy!"

Today I paid $440 for a repair on a car that, predictably, by the time I reached the Mazda dealership, was no longer acting broken. And because I have followed all that advice in books about how to become a millionaire without leaving my armchair, I up and lost my credit card a few months ago and never bothered to report or replace it. This meant that we will be eating a lot more 10 for $10 Hamburger Helper for the rest of the month because our checking account was feeling rather sorry.

I was naughty today--yes, this is motherly martyrdom talking here--and did not intervene when the toddler took a 2 hour nap from 5:15 to 7:15. After nine years of motherhood, I know not to mess with a good thing. I also know the value of an hour of time with a friend without severe interruption. And I know, how exactly did it become my fault that he chose not to nap earlier in the day when it would have been more chronologically convenient? At any rate, this story has a happy ending, since he was asleep by ten o'clock, nothing far from usual.

My life is currently being sucked away by an unhealthy voyeuristic obsession with an email list I've recently joined for parents homeschooling supposedly right-brained children. Between the reading and then the dialogue with myself in my head that goes on for an hour afterwards while I slowly make myself and anyone else who will listen crazy, I'm finding little time for finishing the books that don't seem to be engaging my interest very well. Or for eating. Or for making sure my children eat.

I had the unpleasant experience of taking a child to the pediatrician this week for a "well" checkup and discovering that I had neglected to force him to eat. And it was 3 p.m. There's this part of me that wants to quietly say, "But maybe he wasn't hungry?" So now I'm way into shoving food at him numerous times a day and recording that fact. Is he eating this food? Well, he's making a little show of eating the sandwich that has only two bites out of it. Or the scrambled eggs that I call in the dogs to clear from the floor. But the truth is clear: I AM A BAD PARENT BECAUSE MY CHILD ISN'T HUNGRY!

More from the bad parent files: I did a great deal of steam cleaning of carpets today because of two unfortunate incidents involving poop on the stairs. Meanwhile, my half-naked pooper was walking around in traffic outside, supervised by none but a couple of pre-tweens. Yesterday, while friend was over, a nakey butt that was...unclean...went scooting down a few steps and left its mark. Then today, the olders felt that it was prudent to encourage Rutledge to sit on his potty in the hallway. So they undressed him, took off his diaper, and the poop hanging from his bottom left little presents all down the hallway, which he and they stepped in. It was memorable. Special, even. Believe it or not, we don't have this kind of stuff happening every day, so two for two is rather spectacular. I'm wondering what it means that I'm doing that I shouldn't be, or what I shouldn't be doing but I am, or....well, nevermind.

I feel like were barrelling toward the zone of the busy weekends. Saturday is my final tennis match for the regular season with our combo league, but not perhaps the end of our team if we progress to the championships in October. We'll probably squeeze in one more trip to Busch Gardens or to Yorktown after that (maybe both?). Next weekend is our camping trip at Camp Bethel in Fincastle. The next weekend after that we go to Philadelphia to see the King Tut exhibit at the Franklin Institute, and the weekend after that one is the family reunion in Isle of Palms, SC. Amazingly, we seem to have a weekend off in there, and the month rounds out with another weekend camping trip with our homeschool group. What I'm reading here: if you want to do anything, you have the next three days. Otherwise, ain't gonna happen.

Frightening moment of the day: overheard the amount this family with seven children may be paying to the gymnastics studio every month this fall.