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This article is pretty much everything that I’m about. Sure, you can only read the first 3 pages of it online, but I think I got the gist of it.

Also, in the last scene of Armageddon, the dress that Liv Tyler is wearing? I wore that same dress to the Kentucky Derby in 2000. I swear on all that is holy.

Oh. My. Who knew that Armageddon was this bad? I mean, really!

We missed both of the big “comet-hurtling-towards-the-Earth” movies, but Armageddon is actually on ABC tonight. You probably didn’t notice because you were watching the Emmys on NBC.

Anyway, it’s so bad that we just can’t stop watching!

So bad it’s good? No, not by a long shot. That’s more like Evil Dead 2 or Daniel Johnston songs.

We had a pretty good weekend with the little dude. We went over to Grant’s Farm yesterday for the first time in the two years we’ve lived here, which is actually kinda funny, since we live so close to it. And it’s free. And you get free beer! How have we not been here every weekend? And every other week day?

We had a great time, bottle-feeding the baby goats, ogling the various animals around the preserve, drinking the free beer and visiting with the huge Clydesdales.

I think Auggie may have had a good time too.

We took my friend Octavia out for dinner at this neato restaurant called the 94th Aerosquadron. It’s right by the airport, with a great view of the runways. The food was not very good, the service was friendly but very slow and the planes were pretty loud at times. But, all in all, I must admit that I enjoyed myself. Of course, most of that was probably because I got to visit with Octavia.

Today we went down to Jefferson County to visit our friends and deliver a revamped computer to them. I love going out to the country, especially in the fall. Today was one of the first truly cool days of the season and I was loving every minute of it.

Our friends have a great place out in the woods. A great garden, a good dog, two horses and just an overall ideal existence. Can you tell that I’m just a wee envious of their lives?

Oh, poor Liv Tyler! Who will stay behind to detonate the bomb?! Shed not those big, fat elven tears!

Sorry, still watching Armageddon.

Gotta go now. There’s only 18 minutes until the comet hits.

Ah, the weekend is finally here.

I don’t know why this has felt like kind of a long week, but there you go. Actually, it was a lot like every week for me — long, but yet short too. I mean, in some ways it feels like it was just last weekend, but in other ways, it seems like it’s been forever since last weekend.

I’m not making any sense. I apologize.

Some of you may be wondering what is happening with our friends Chris and Shelley and their new baby. Well, they are still waiting for their baby! Shelley is now 9 days overdue and I am having a hard time even imagining what that must be like. I was three days overdue with August, and that seemed an interminable amount.

So we’re sending “C’mon, baby!” thoughts to you guys. I am so proud of them for letting their baby take his/her own time. So many of us kicked them out when they had overstayed their welcome. If it’s any consolation, when I compare my friends’ stories of how their labors started naturally to my own experience of jump-starting the major contractions with pitocin, theirs sound much more pleasant. But pitocin isn’t the end of the world, either.

We’re just hoping for a healthy baby and mommy (and daddy, for that matter).

Changing subjects abruptly: We now have an Apple store! For the love of Chrisna, it’s the most beautiful thing in the new West County Mall. Yes, I was insane enough to go there on its opening day. No, I was not insane enough to buy anything.

I was compelled to go for two reasons:

1) To worship at the new Apple store; and

2) To see the half-acre of shoes at Nordstrom’s.

First, the Apple store. It’s white. On many levels, actually. The lights make everything glow. It was so beautiful, I almost cried. Seriously. It was like heaven. Super-cool, kick-ass computer heaven. Even Auggie sat up and took notice.

I wanted a copy of Microsoft Word for OS X, but it is $369 and I just cannot justify paying that much when Apple Works is completely adequate. (Just not sexy in any way.)

One totally funny moment in the Apple store: I was looking at the display of digital cameras and camcorders when an older feller picked up one of those new tiny Sony camcorders and asked his younger companion, ‘What’s this?’ Feeling filled with the wonder of all things Apple, I piped up, ‘It’s a video camera.’

He looked up at me and I thought he was about to tell me that of course he knew what it was and I should keep my mouth shut when people ask rhetorical questions. Instead he said, ‘Really,’ completely astonished, without a trace of irony.

It was a great moment. And I chuckled as I walked away. (And reaffirmed my commitment to not speak to strangers unless spoken to. I’m such a Midwesterner.)

Next, after I tore myself away from the Temple of Apple, Auggie and I trekked to the first floor of the Nordstrom’s to see the Field of Shoes. It would be completely overwhelming, I think, even without the hundreds of people milling around, sprinkled with dozens of middle-aged, executive-type men who were apparently the shoe salesmen.

I saw exactly two pairs of shoes that I would ever consider wearing, but there was no way that I was going to pay $104 for a pair of black boots with a cool, sporty sole that would most certainly not fit in with the ole play group activities.

The Merrell Jungle Mocs for $69? Maybe. But not today. Too many people.

I felt like such a yokel, browsing around Nordstrom’s. I saw a sweater coat thing that had a $2,100 price tag and I was all like, ‘Well, goll-ee!’ I felt like freakin Gomer Pyle over here!

So, all in all, we had a good time, fighting the crowds with our stroller, waging war in the parking lot, and blazing new trails as we were the first to defy the “15 minute Food Court parking only” signs, since all the garages were full.

We’re rebels.

Here’s further proof that Auggie got all his looks from his dad:

How cute is he? This was taken when we were hanging out by the Elephant Fountain at the Zoo last week.

Thanks for all of the reassurances that I am, in fact, not such a bad mommy. Apparently, even though I already knew this kinda, this is a stage that nearly every baby goes through. One of those “give them an inch and they’ll take a mile” type situations.

One of the things I love most about the Internet: listening to my old college radio station KCOU. Where else can you go to hear sheepish DJs not read their playlists for an hour? Oh, I’m sorry, that was me as a DJ.

Surreal moment of yesterday: Waiting for help at The Mac Store, this random guy was playing around on a G4 and, suddenly, the White Stripes’ White Blood Cells starts blaring from the computer. Oh, and the store smelled like an entire generation of mice died there. Yuck.

I’m checking out the new Mac OS, Jaguar. It’s supposed to help with the networking here at home, seeing as how every other computer in the house is a PC bent on destroying my precious iBook. Plus, the salesman assures me that I’ll be able to use my Hotmail account with the new Mail program.

Humpf. We’ll see, I guess.

After all of that hoo-ha, he only slept 45 minutes.

God hates me.

If there’s anything else in this world that makes you feel more like a monster than letting your baby cry himself to sleep, I don’t want to know about it. It just took 45 minutes of tears (him) and struggling (me) to get him down for his nap.

Before you write me off as the worst mommy ever, keep in mind that I put him in his crib after gently rocking him to sleep for 15 minutes. I told him a couple of stories, hummed softly, the works. Finally, he was asleep.

The instant his head hits the crib mattress, he’s awake again. And this is the way it has been for the last six days. Not good.

So, in the immortal words of that seminal 80’s band Heart, I had to “harden my heart, swallow my tears and turn and leave him there.” Sure, I went back in every 5-10 minutes, comforted him and then left again when he tried to sit back up.

Finally, thinking I could not stand it anymore and was just going to pick him up and be done with it, I went in, stroked his little head, and he calmed down. In a few minutes, he was off to Dreamland (again).

This is a moral victory, I would say.

‘So, why’s it so important that he put himself to sleep?’ you may be asking. Well, let me tell you. It’s our opinion that it is important that August be able to fall asleep without using us as a crutch. I don’t want to scar him for life by leaving him alone in a dark room all by himself while wide-awake and terrified, but if he’s been cuddled and sung to and read stories to, etc., and he’s on the verge of sleep, it’s our opinion that he should be able to lie down in his bed and fall asleep the rest of the way easily, while we stand by with a comforting hand on him.

It has worked before. We just got sidetracked a few weeks ago when he started teething. And then Kim came to visit and we didn’t want to disturb her. And then he caught a cold. So what started out as a few nights of waking up in the middle of the night has evolved into a full-fledged, I-don’t-sleep-anywhere-except-in-bed-with-my-mommy-while-nursing disaster.

So there.

But it still doesn’t make me feel any less guilty. I hate to hear my son cry.

Oh. My. I was all ready to blog when I decided to balance the bank account “really quickly” using our spiffy Microsoft Money program. Of course, something that normally takes 2 minutes ended up taking nearly an hour. I was off by $20, which refused to show itself. So, in order to make this less likely to happen in the future, I’ve decided that we should spend less money.

That’s, ahem, rich.

Maybe we should just spend more money in less places on fewer occasions. That way, there won’t be as many eye-crossingly similar entries in the dang program. You have no idea how many entries there are for “ATM Withdrawal,” “Shop ‘N Save,” “Whole Foods Market,” “Kangaroo Kids” and “Shell.” Frightening. I should be a dang part-owner of Kangaroo Kids by now.

So now I’m too tired to finish uploading the photos from my niece Olivia’s second birthday party and Auggie’s trip to the Zoo last week. Maybe tomorrow.

Oh! Auggie has his first music class tomorrow morning. I have no idea what to expect really, but the class is supposed to introduce toddlers to music, so that in and of itself guarantees hilarity, right? I’ll try to remember to bring the camera.

Those of you keeping track of the sleep goings-on: Auggie was in bed with us again last night. I think this will be the last night of leniency before we begin the Crib Reformation tomorrow night. Please send the boy sleepy thoughts. Or at least anti-flopping-around-when-sleeping-by-mommy thoughts.

Thanks!

Auggie has decided that he no longer needs sleep. Apparently, it is a wholly inefficient way to spend valuable play hours. He’s modeling himself after Martha Stewart, who also only needs three hours of sleep each night, and no naps during the day. Unfortunately, he is still somewhat lagging behind Ms. Stewart in the cooking department.

But enough boring you with the minutiae of our daily sleep dilemmas.

I have entirely new topics to bore you! Things like how much I’m craving all things junk food at this time. Chocolate, potato chips, pizza, ice cream, soda… Oh yeah. Have I mentioned how much I totally did not miss this particular time of the month for the 20 months I was without?

Oh! Last night I had a great time, walking down memory lane. You see, it’s all thanks to Fly Lady that our house is getting a little neater each and every day. I’ll have to talk about her some other time, because I don’t want to get too sidetracked from this particular story.

Anyway, I was working on decluttering the office, when I came across a collection of old journals. Now, in case you didn’t know this about me, I love journals. Especially new ones. In fact, I love new journals way more than journaling itself. Journaling is a great way for me to work through things, but, when it comes down to it, I’d much rather read a book at night than write out my neuroses about being overweight for the millionth time.

The most entertaining journal was from my freshman year of college. Here are a few statistics:

Number of times I say I’m in love “for real”: 4

Number of silly crushes recounted: at least 6

Number of crushes on gay men: 2

Number of times I say “I’m drunk”: too many to count

Number of times I talk about my classes: 0

Number of months included in said journal: 11

Average length of “real love”: 2.75 months

I was cracking up at the fact that seemingly every time I turned the page, I was completely in love with another man. Completely, torturously in love. Often unrequitedly in love. ‘Why does this always happen to me?’ I wailed! Uh, maybe because you fall in love with every other guy you see?

Ah, well, I was young and impetuous. And, hey, only one of the guys I dated was actually a closeted homosexual (not counted in the “crushes on gay men” category either). He’s still a good friend too. One who I hope we can see while we’re in Chicago next month.

I happily reported to Tim that there were no tortured journal entries about him, when I looked back on my senior year journals. Mostly because I have never been tortured during my time with him, just sad when he lived in St. Louis while I was still in Columbia, but also because I’m sure that I didn’t have time to even write it down if I was tortured. I had, like, 4 jobs my senior year!

I was going to blog yesterday. Really. Unfortunately, I was insane with exhaustion, so it was all I could do to resist the urge to Cheez Whiz myself and keep my son fed.

Thursday night was the worst ever. Ever in the history of babies, I mean. Maybe some nights spent huddling in a muddy hole in the middle of a rank battlefield have been less restful. As it was, though, I think Tim and I got about three hours of sleep. The rest of the time was spent trying to get Auggie to sleep in his crib.

Oy.

Last night, we used this plan: When Auggie wakes up at midnight (as he has every night this week), we bring him into bed with us and sleep (relatively) peacefully the rest of the night. Guess what? It worked!

Since Auggie is not feeling well — and I’m still not sure if it’s a cold or his teeth — we’ll just concentrate on getting him rested and feeling better. Then we can work on the sleeping thing.

We’ll try to have him out of the bed before you keep him for the weekend, Mom.

Oh. My. You really must see this. The comedy! Oh! (link via the inappropriately URL-ed Rabbit blog, who especially enjoyed the patriot one)

We went to the St. Louis Art Fair last night and the results were mixed. We got there about 6:30 and walked up the street where the food vendors sell their wares. Lots of nice Clayton-area places, with tempting offerings (filet mignon sandwiches, fresh bruschetta and the like). It was when I noticed that there was a booth selling little cosmopolitans and martinis in disposable martini glasses that I knew we were doomed. ‘Adorable!’ thought the Beautiful People.

And so the Beautiful People came. And they milled, and they milled. And made the food area completely impassable, especially those of us with unwieldy strollers and fussy babies.

So we managed to wrangle a handful of toasted ravioli (stuffed with pepper cheese and served with salsa — uh, no thank you), and then we got the heck out of there.

The Beautiful People are very rude.

Oh! And we managed to see a little art! We missed our favorite photographer, William Thayer, but, what are you gonna do?

Today, my sinuses are totally messed up. My nose is all stuffy, my throat hurts, my eyes feel twice their normal size. Yuck. Could I have Auggie’s cold, or am I teething too?