I took the girls to our neighborhood playground last weekend and being the wimp that I am, I stuck close to the shade .

I knew I wouldn’t be able to escape the heat too long before the swings, those temptresses of the playground, would be calling.

Before I knew it Miss C was chanting, “Mommy push me, mommy push me, MOMMY PUSH ME!” Miss C’s favorite swing is a large plastic seat behemoth of a swing, which is really designed for children with physical handicaps. I can barely push her in it. In the mean time, Miss A was playing “spy girl” on a ladder and started shouting, “Mommy help, Mommy HELP!” I knew she was just crying wolf but I started to turn toward her as I could feel the other parents on the playground looking at me and thinking, “Can you NOT help your child?” and then I stepped back toward the swing and turned to face it. Before I knew it all 47 pounds of Miss C plus the weight of the swing hit me directly on the bridge of my nose. And it hurt. Like hell. And I fought back tears. My nose had a little scab on it from being scraped by the swing until Thursday and although it was sore I definitely didn’t come close to breaking it, although for about .2 seconds I had fantasies of having rhinoplasty and getting a dream perky Christie Brinkley nose courtesy of my kids and a runaway swing. Too bad their piggy bank funds wouldn’t have covered the bill.

I vaguely remember seeing the school portrait flyer posted on the front door at daycare last week, but we use the side entrance. Yesterday was Grandma day for Miss A, so I missed the reminder they send home to parents like me who need a little mental nudge.

The hubby took Miss A to school this morning and as soon as he left he called to let me know it was picture day because I had picked out a pink and teal striped t-shirt and play khakis for Miss A to wear and even He Who Has Limited Fashion Sense knew what a color scheme trainwreck that would be with the traditional fall leaves autumn background the portrait company uses. He couldn’t run home to pick out another outfit and I have a staff meeting at the office so I couldn’t justify make the 40 minute roundtrip to home and daycare and back all for a new outfit so I decided not to sweat it and consider it at least $20 saved.

All kidding aside, the portrait company our daycare hires in the fall is not my favorite (they bring in an independent photographer for black and white spring photos that are more candid), but yet I always feel guilted into buying at the very least the smallest package. I’m just going to stay strong and save the big bucks for a holiday portrait of the girls. There’s no sense in having photographic evidence 20 years from now about the day mama forgot it was school picture day.

See this pretty little button?

I’d love for you to click on it and vote for BlondeMomBlog in the Divine Caroline Love This Site! Awards parenting category.

I’ll give you a few good reasons why.

The hubby is living in a bog of estrogen and is a good sport about it, even when the girls insist on making him look like a contender for What Not To Wear: Cross Dressing Edition.

My old psycho biddy dog has a spanking fetish.

My 3-year-old channels Bootsy Collins.

My 6-year-old is obsessed with infomercials.

I’m no Rachael Ray.

But most of all I love writing about this crazy little thing called parenting. Trust me, I’m learning as much as my girls are and they haven’t fired me…yet.

While you’re at Divine Caroline be sure to check out all the other wonderful blogs nominated in a variety of categories, from travel to career and money to home and food.

If you’re drinking wine and painting and putting up laundry and listening to music from your college days because you have the house to yourself and you suddenly feel 20 years old and bullet proof, whatever you do, DON’T crank Jane’s Addiction Been Caught Stealing unless you want your psycho old biddy dog to go completely ballistic during the dog barking part at the beginning of the song.

You’re welcome.

What was the soundtrack of your college years? I graduated in 1991 so I listened to a ton of REM, U2, Cure, Depeche Mode, Jane’s Addiction…

I was a journalism major and not in a sorority (I dropped out of rush…oh the pressure!) so I hung out with a lot of the “alternative” crowd. I mean as alternative as you can get in Kentucky.

p.s. Here’s a before and after shot of the glamorous above the toilet area.

Driving Miss C to school yesterday, I cranked up a classic rock station, opened the sunroof, and hit all the green lights. Classic rock seems to be a safe bet in the car with the girls because with top 40 you never know when you’re going to hear a love song about a pantyless stripper.

I had promised the hubby I would help him with his business plan yesterday and I had blocked out lunch, which on Fridays is typically spent at school with Miss C.

I turned the music down to deliver the bad news.

Miss C Mommy can’t eat lunch with you today.

Miss C: Mommy, turn it up.

Wait, I wanted to tell you I can’t eat lunch with you today.

Miss C: Why not?

Well, I need to help daddy with something at his office.

Miss C: Uh, mommy can you turn up that song?

I’ll come up to school one day next week for lunch.

Miss C: Okay, okay…now mommy TURN IT UP!

In Labor Day weekend news, I’m painting our hall bathroom a lovely pale blue tomorrow (buh bye yellow) and I think the girls will be farmed out to the inlaws while I paint and hubby partakes in his manly segue into autumn-his fantasy football league draft. Hopefully I’ll stick to my paintbrushes and finish my project since I bought the paint in March. I don’t want to get too distracted with the prospect of being alone for a few hours because I might do something crazy like run off to Target and move in.

p.s. Pray that Gustav simmers down.

I don’t care what side of the political fence you fall on (and I never write about politics on this blog), but it’s a very exciting day when an African American man is running for president and the Republican party names a woman as VP running mate (a “hockey” mom of five who was working three days after the birth of her fifth child, who has Down syndrome.)

Photo of 44-year-old Alaskan Governor Sarah Palin courtesy of Alaska Seafood

Could we have a woman VP in the White House? What do you think? Any undecided voters out there? This is now shaping up to be a very exciting election to watch on both fronts.

One of my lovely readers, Tracy, (who does PR for PeaceLoveMom) asked me to help spread the word about a benefit that kicked off today for Stephanie and Christian Nielson, a couple from Mesa, Arizona, who were seriously burned in a small plane crash August 16. Christian has burns on 30 percent of his body and Stephanie (Nie Nie) has burns on 80 percent of her body. Pilot Doug Kinneard, a dad to four, died from injuries sustained in the crash. The Nielsons have four children and many bloggers many know Stephanie through her blog, Nie Nie Dialogues.

Read all about Nie Nie Day on Design Mom. At this time there are nearly 300 (!) fabulous auctions being launched today as a blogger effort to raise money for the Nielsons. And I am not exaggerating when I say fabulous. There is something for everyone, from a Maroon 5 autographed guitar to gorgeous handmade items. Another way to help is to post a button spreading the word about the recovery fundraising effort. The nifty blog button can be found here. More about the Nielson’s story can be found here.

Here’s a photo I found of the couple that Nie Nie posted in May:

The accompanying post is so incredibly sweet. I think it’s a lovely snapshot into their life together and I don’t even know them.

Dear Neighborhood Psycho Fitness Mom:

I’ve never run into you at the playground before, but you amaze me with your ability to turn an afternoon with your kids into a workout.

OK, to be honest, I’m not running at the park am I? I’m sitting on my butt. As I watched you do power lunges on the park benches and speed walk around the swing sets like some kind of crazed Richard Simmons groupie on crack, pumping your arms and counting laps, I felt compelled to get up and do something. What, I don’t know, but I contemplated doing some jumping jacks or dropping to the ground and doing some push ups. Then I came to my senses and remembered that I use my solo neighborhood walks as a chance to escape the house by myself. Maybe I should have asked you if you needed me to watch your kids while you went for a jog? No, that would have been really crazy.

Please stop making me feel guilty as I take these precious moments of down time to check my cell phone voice mail and watch the girls play sit on my ass. I nearly broke a sweat each time you squeezed your glutes and shouted over to your kids on the monkey bars: “Hold on sweeties, mommy’s got one more set of reps!”

Love,

Blonde Mom