I came home in a deluge today; the skies opened over Illinois (and probably most of the Midwest) and the metro area came to a screeching halt. I got home right after the power had blown, and felt my way up the stairs to our apartment.

As most heavy storms do, this one ended quickly and the sun came back out. Danny, who hates storms, was very pleased, but had a hard time understanding why we had no power. He kept asking if we could snuggle in Big Bed and watch TV. Finally, I remembered that DH's old laptop -- bequeathed recently to me -- played DVDs, so we snuggled in Big Bed, watched "Curse of the Were-Rabbit," and slowly got hotter and stickier.

Fortunately, the power came back on just a few minutes ago. My plans for the evening -- work on the scrapbook I'm making for my mother's 60th birthday -- are pretty well blown. My hope is to get to work very early tomorrow morning and get organized, because it's (drum roll, please) My Last Day there!

I had my exit interview with the head of HR today, and it was so cathartic. She encouraged me to speak honestly and I did -- diplomatically, politically, and with as little name-dropping as possible. I let her know all the factors that made my job so tense. We ended up talking for a good hour, and it was terrific. She was really interested in what needed to change, and appreciative of my honesty. I told her -- and meant it -- that I wanted things to get better because I felt so strongly what a terrific company this is. It really is; I've just been in an area that doesn't appreciate the whole concept of work-life balance.

So after a hot, sticky weekend ahead (during which I must purchase at least two more nice work outfits for the new job), I will begin my new work life. It's hard to believe that just about five years with this company are coming to an end. As I told both my boss and the HR person, I would absolutely come back some day... just not to this job.

Back from the BEST weekend in the Saugatuck area, spent with our friends Eric & Leslie, and their doggies Daisy and Scout. I didn't want to leave, and until we hit nasty traffic outside of Gary, Ind., I drove along with a great feeling of peace. That didn't last too long; less than an hour after picking up the boys, they were squabbling in Target. But luckily that didn't last long.

When we got home, DH spent ages unloading enormous amounts of stuff from the car, while I bathed the baby. After his bath, I went to find Danny, calling to me from the living room. Danny had a problem.

"Mommy, I have Waisin Bwan in my nothe."

I'm not sure what possessed my child to stuff Raisin Bran in his nose. I'm also not sure if it will travel upward, lodge in his brain, and result in terrifying personality changes. Or if he'll just sneeze it out. But he doesn't seem to be in any pain, so we're gonna wait it out.

When I checked my e-mail, I found a note from Kenneth Fron, a former neighbor from the days when we had a house. He had worked in banking for many years, and after a layoff, started his own jewelry business. And check it out -- he's rubbing elbows with all sorts of celebs! I'm so impressed with his savvy (and cojones) -- not only does he get decent press by just selling his jewelry, but he goes to book signings and other celebrity appearances, and gifts the celeb with a custom-made piece. He shows photos of his muses on his web site, along with scans of thank-you letters and even a voicemail message from Sarah Jessica Parker! Go Ken!

While I'm linking, I have two more sites for you. Fabgoods is a shopping blog with interesting upscale items. There is also a decent selection of fun stuff, like this T-shirt, which reminds me of the Church of the Flying Spaghetti Monster.

While you're shopping, head over to DVD Confidential for some cool movie reviews. Interspersed are some of the author's rants on the biz. Not to be missed: "Note To Hollywood: Your Babies Are Boring." I thought it was hysterical, but I'm not commenting to the author to admit that I have, in the past, held a subscription to Star Magazine. Don't tell on me.

In 18 more minutes, I'll have just one week left at my job. I'm sort of giddy and sad about the big change at the same time. On the plus side, lots of new opportunities, more responsibility, more money, fewer hours.... on the minus side, not working with many women (okay, sometimes that's a plus) and having to start over and climb up a learning curve pretty quickly.

Still, it will be great.

In just a few hours, I'll be dropping Jake & Danny off with the nanny at her house. She's keeping them for the weekend, while DH and I motor off to Michigan to visit with friends. We're bringing the baby with us to lessen Alberta's load and, frankly, because we feel better about it. I'll feel less guilty this way; Jake & Danny always have a blast over there, running around like maniacs with Alberta's grandkids. And because some of her grandkids are older, they really help watch the younger ones.

I'm very excited about this trip, and I know it's going to go fast. Eric & Leslie are two of our very favorite people, and when they moved away from the city, we were crushed. They're an amazing couple -- smart, funny, talented, and just great to be with. They're also really cool as a couple -- very together but not nauseatingly so. It's hard to find "couple friends." Often, one partner will like the other couple (or part of them) more than the other, so making plans is a pain. And once you add kids into the mix, well, shit. Forget having a social life.

So we really need this. All I have to do is pack up from work, drive back to Evanston, pick up Jacob at camp, bring him home, have him take a bath while I pack everything DH, Benjamin and I need, load the car, drive everyone to the city (in Friday evening rush hour traffic, yay!), drive into the Loop to pick up DH at work, and then (whew) get on I-94 and pray that the traffic has lightened up a bit for our 2 1/2 hr drive.

Phew. I'm tired already. And only mildly anxious that (a) the baby had a really rough night with the teething last night and I hope he doesn't wail across three states, and (b) that there are very few CDs DH and I can agree upon. He reminded me today that, since I now have his old laptop, I have CD-burning capabilities. Maybe we'll burn some Steve Martin, Seinfeld, and Bob Newhart routines and play those in the car.

I don't know if I'll get a chance to blog from Michigan, so I'll "see" you all in a few days. Hope we all have a good one!

QUICK! Pick five songs out of your current playlist and listen to each one. Write down where each takes you.

1." Suddenly I See," KT Tunstall
    Driving to my interview for *new job* and realizing they were playing this song I love on the radio, and feeling great about my prospects and my makeover

2. "Istanbul (Not Constantinople), " They Might Be Giants
    The "doo doo doo" part always reminds me of my brother. I picture him singing it and cracking up, and it makes me laugh.

3. "Birdhouse In Your Soul," TMBG
    Working at the Daily Illini in college, goofing around with Chris Heidenrich while she sings it in a really funny voice.

4. "Mr. Jones," Talking Heads
    Driving around after getting my license at 16, and having the freedom to go wherever I wanted in my '76 Chevy Nova.

5. "Get Up (I Feel Like Being A Sex Machine),"  James Brown
    The first wedding I coordinated -- my friend Pat got married to her longtime boyfriend. We did it on a two-story boat on Lake Michigan. When I got to the bakery two hours before launch to pick up the wedding cake, I found they'd screwed up and never made it. We pulled it off with cakes they'd made for regular customers, and they refunded every penny of the cost, so the bride was thrilled. She and her new husband danced down the middle of the crowd of guests to this song -- the 50-year-old white economist, and the beautiful, 6-foot-tall African-American artist. The guests ranged from a soutside preacher to bankers to writers and artists, and everyone was so happy for Pat and Mike (yes, their real names). It was an amazing day.

Guess whose first tooth appeared today?

Benjamunch turned seven months old on Saturday. I was very distracted by throwing my cousin's daughter's first birthday party, so I didn't get a chance to quietly make a teeny private fuss over him. So instead, I'll blog today about his first tooth (since I don't have those dates for Jake or Danny - sorry boys!).

Right now, he's sitting in my lap, clutching my nightgown sleeve, and sticking his pacifier ribbon in his mouth. He's very sweet, and very soon he's going to go to sleep.

Sweet dreams, tiny prince. Mommy loves you.

Jacob is now attending "Sports Camp," which lasts from 9 am until 4 pm each weekday. I paid in advance for early- and late-childcare, where kids whose parents work can stay, supervised, and play more games. Every morning, I bring Jacob to early care at 7:30 when it opens. Since it's pretty early in the day for him, I bring him "breakfast" -- a carton of orange juice (not from concentrate), a drinkable yogurt, and two cereal bars.

And every morning, I see one of Jake's fellow campers eating his breakfast -- usually, a pack of Sour Skittles from the vending machine. Yesterday, I got nosy.

"Did you have breakfast before you came here?" I asked.

He shook his head.

"So, that candy is your breakfast?"

"Yeah," he said. "These Sour Skittles [sic]."

"Wow," I said. "I don't think I could just have candy for breakfast. I'd have a big old sugar crash by the time camp started." I demonstrated by letting my head fall with a pretend BANG on the table. The kids all laughed.

"Jacob likes these cereal bars," I said. "You ever have these?"

He nodded.

"You like them?"

Another nod.

"These are strawberry -- Jacob likes that flavor the best so far. You like strawberry, too?"

Nodding.

"So, if we brought extra cereal bars one morning, would you like to have some?"

The boys eyes widened almost imperceptibly and he said "yeah."

At this, Jacob looked across at the other boy and then up at me.

"Mommy? He could have one of mine now." And Jake reached across the table with an already-unwrapped cereal bar. The boy took it. Jacob's hand wavered, open and empty. I knew he was waiting for reciprocal Skittles.

"Jake, I don't think he needs to share his Skittles right now. You've got a pretty good breakfast there," I said. Luckily, he didn't get petulant (as he's wont to do), but dug into his own cereal bar.

I mentioned the situation to DH last night. I felt responsible for this boy -- whose name I still don't know -- and who probably do esn't give a hoot about eating something remotely healthy. Maybe his mom or dad would be insulted that some strange lady was bringing him food -- as if he were some sort of charity case. Maybe they don't know he's getting junk food from the vending machine for breakfast every day. Maybe they wouldn't care one way or another.

But this morning, I packed two extra cereal bars and put them at the spot next to Jacob. There was my little friend, with his Sour Skittles. I asked if he'd like to join Jacob for breakfast, and he sat right down.

When I left, they were comparing notes on how many Cubs games they'd each seen on TV. And they were both eating cereal bars. The Skittles sat open on the table, momentarily forgotten. 

The weekend was jam-packed with kid stuff. Lots of errand-running, parkgoing, sprinkler-playing, etc. I threw a birthday party for my visiting cousin's youngest at my mom's house (sorry, horrible grammar). That was Saturday. I went over to my parents' house to get everything set up, shop with Mom for food, etc. Then zipped back to my place to pick up my brood.

DH is driving, and we're on Ridge Road, a pretty main street in Evanston, and we're remarking about what nerds we are that we're so impressed with the minivan. It's so easy to get the kids in! And there's lots of room! And it has keyless entry! And doors everywhere! And Jacob can buckle himself! And all the lights work! And the gas mileage isn't that bad! And there it was.

"WARNING. GRAPHIC PICTURES AHEAD."

Not that there was anything we could do; there was a mess of one-way streets and lots of traffic. No good way to turn away (and I wasn't driving, so I couldn't). So DH drove gingerly past block after block of red-tee-shirted protesters holding up 10-foot-tall posters of aborted fetuses. With all three of my kids in the car. All three of my kids, one of whom reads everything he sees aloud, and the other of whom has a photographic memory and both of which two have incredible eyesight.

I was squeezing my eyes shut and peeking through here and there to see if we were past the "parade" when Danny said "Mommy, what's dat?" [goggle] "Um, very ugly pictures, honey."

I could hear DH beside me, grumbling about, I dunno, misleading the kids or something. But what are you supposed to do? "Those are enormous pictures of babies that were sucked out of ladies' tummies because they were terrible heathen prostitutes who irresponsibly got pregnant outside of the bounds of holy matrimony."

Stop it, that's not how I think. "Those were enormous pictures of babies that some women chose not to have born because of reasons that are none of our business."

When are your children old enough to hear those reasons? I don't know, but I do know that six and three are not old enough. And they're not old enough to have had to see that. In discussing the issue with some of my colleagues today, I came up with this theory: If it's too graphic to be shown on children's television, it shouldn't be paraded down public streets.

Maybe that is puritannical. I can't disagree with someone's right to protest abortion, whether or not I think they could ever change my own opinion (nope). But I can certainly disagree with the protestors jamming these pictures into the faces of my innocent children. If anything, protests like these (and the similar one I saw on Dempster last year while I was pregnant) make my own resolve stronger.

If that's a length that people think is appropriate to go to to make their point, I don't think I can ever see eye to eye. Because my eyes will be squeezed shut until they're long gone.

P.S. I'm not the only local who was pissed off.

While I do absolutely love my employer, I really don't love my job. But all that will change in about three weeks, when I start..... <drum roll please> My New Job!!!!

Beginning the first week of August, I embark on my new job/career in distance learning. This job will marry my marketing, technology, education, and communications skills. This is the job for which I cut off my hair and endured one of the most nerve-wracking interview processes ever, and the job that I was pretty much positive I didn't get. My dad consults for the department and was involved in the process, so it was a whole family affair. He had let me know last week that my competition really blew the interview team away.

I spent yesterday morning in the dentist's chair, getting a few fillings replaced/repaired and having my new flipper put in (pending a dental implant for a canine tooth). When I got back into my car, I was pretty incoherent -- three or four shots of Novacaine plus the new flipper rendered me pretty much incapable of normal speech. I checked my messages and saw that not only did my dad call twice, but so did Mike, the head of the division for which I'd interviewed.

I didn't know what to do. I was fairly positive I was going to get the "you were great but we went a different way" speech, and no matter what, I didn't want to sound all lispy and marble-mouthed. So I called my dad, wanting to ask him whether I should wait until I could speak properly or call and just try to get through it, and he hands the phone over to Mike, the boss guy! Shit!

In my head, I'm practicing: "Thank you for the opportunity. I hope the program is a great success. It was lovely to meet you...." etc., and wondering how I'm going to actually say the words. Imagine my surprise when I hear him say "the faculty of ____ has invited you to become our new Director of Distance Learning."

There's a beat while I process this, and in shock, I finally say "Pfthank you tho muth! Thith ith weawwy exthiting newth!"

Poor guy. I'm sure he's panicking now. "Did she have this enormous speech impediment when we interviewed?"

I'm now practically counting the minutes until I get the official note from HR, which will allow me to go into my boss' office and give notice. I cannot wait, if only to finally get to a job where overtime is not mandatory.

I'm now officially a soccer mom. Within the past week, I've signed Jacob up for soccer, cut off my hair, and purchased this:

  

I had vowed years ago that I would NEVER, EVER go this route. But when your '93 Corolla dies and you need to put three kids in carseats, you're pretty much stuck with the minivan option. The three-row SUVs are just out of control (as well as insanely expensive).

All I know is, for someone who up until recently sneered at the MommyVans, I'm really excited about mine. It drives smoothly, I'm up higher so I can see better (and feel less intimidated by other big cars), and best of all, I can fit not only me, DH, and three boys in car seats, but a good trip to Costco and another two potential passengers, too. It's a beautiful thing.

Oh, and as a belated anniversary present, DH is letting me get keyless entry installed in the car. I'm especially glad because after buying it, I discovered that the minivan has only --one-- actual lock you can open with a key -- in the driver's door. Um, hello?

Anyway, I'm now nauseatingly suburban. All I need are some khakis, loafers, a retriever and a house. And then, I'll be one of the scariest cliches I can imagine.

Thank goodness we moved to Evanston, where people are allowed to live and shop even if they are disabled, multicultural or even, heaven forbid, plus sized. I bet Oak Park would be fine if The Petite Sophisticate wanted to move in...

Plus-sized retailer doesn't fit: suburb
    Last year, a national real estate Web site named Oak Park one of America's "sexiest" suburbs.
    Some now wonder whether a desire to foster that image was a factor in the village board blocking a women's plus-sized clothing store from moving into a new retail building in the heart of its downtown shopping district.
    The near west suburb is the target of a recent lawsuit, filed after officials decided Lane Bryant doesn't fit the "kind and quality" of shops desired for the building.
    In a downtown known for its trendy shops and clothing stores, Village President David Pope said officials want "a more broad-based retailer" to fill the building rather than one with "a niche market."
    Lane Bryant specializes in clothing for women sizes 14 to 28.
    "We want to expand the market of people who are going to come downtown and spend dollars at other retailers in that district," Pope said, adding the village is "very interested" in having Lane Bryant come to Oak Park -- just in "a different location."
    But RSC & Associates, which has spent millions on the new retail building, says it's curious that the village would allow some women's clothing stores to come downtown, but not others.
    Village Trustee Martha Brock, a Lane Bryant shopper, said village leaders "need to have a broader perspective on the type of clientele" desired downtown and to be less concerned about "image."

Want store 'befitting of ... the village'
    She said the village's denial "does raise some concerns [because] the clientele of this particular store are mostly on the heavy side," Brock said. "But for the amount of money all women spend on apparel, it would be a disservice to the community to have such a myopic view on things."
    Pope said it's "ridiculous" to suggest the denial has anything to do with plus-sized shoppers -- but developer Rich Curto said he's been given no explanation for why Lane Bryant isn't welcome, opening the door for speculation.
    Curto wants the store to open in a building at 1116 Lake St., being touted as "the first newly built retail business" Oak Park has seen in the last 10 years.
    Because the village previously owned the property, it took the rare step of reserving the right to have final say over any retail tenants in the private property.
    In a letter to RSC, Oak Park deputy village manager M. Ray Wiggins says that while village officials are "greatly encouraged by the appearance and obvious quality" of the new building, Lane Bryant is not "the kind and quality" of store they want there and they hope RSC can find a store more "befitting of ... the village."

'A great economic opportunity'
    "The issue for us really is one entirely of fostering economic vitality in the community," he said, though Brock countered a Lane Bryant would provide "a great economic opportunity" for the village.
    The lawsuit asks a judge to allow the store to open and award the developer $2.4 million in damages for its losses on the deal.
    Lane Bryant spokeswoman Gayle Coolick said she can't remember the store ever being denied a space at any retail space.
    "Usually, shops are begging us to come because we're a tremendous traffic driver," she said. "I would think the ladies of Oak Park would be thrilled for us to come."

I read via BloggingBaby yesterday that Cynthia Nixon thinks that people aren't mean to pair for life; she valued her marriage to Danny Mozes for a while -- had two kids with him -- but then left him last year for a woman.

For some reason this really bothers me. How different is that than dumping your spouse for some cutie you met on the bus or something? Is it supposed to be okay because one of you has decided that you're not really attracted to the opposite sex?

This isn't going towards any shocking revelation; I have no problem with other people being gay, but I think women are a pain in the ass. I can think that women are attractive, but I'm not interested in them sexually (I'm usually just jealous). I just don't feel like fooling around anymore; haven't for a long time. It has nothing to do with my own husband (who I think gets better-looking every year, damn him); it's more a combination of stress, exhaustion, and enough antidepressants to keep me from lunging over a guardrail on I-94.

As I looked around our block party yesterday, I wondered what drew the couples there together, and what kept them together. I've become friendly with one woman whose divorce is still fresh, and she's emotionally bleeding from every pore. She is starting to sound more positive, though, so I think she's getting better. But I look at the marrieds and wonder how they get along. Do they joke around all the time, or has she lost her sense of humor along with her waistline? Does he look at her cellulite and shudder? Do they fall into bed exhausted and snuggle up, or are they back-to-back, dreaming separate dreams?

I wonder, too, if the fact that most of my neighbors are wealthy makes a difference. How much less stress do you have if you're not constantly monitoring every penny spent? Does the money bring other problems? Did that couple -- just back from a month in France & Switzerland -- fight about the temperature in the hotel rooms the whole time, or did they walk around starry-eyed, clasping hands and smooching by the Seine? That family -- who is leaving on Sunday for two weeks in Peru -- will they bring home slides of happy faces standing by ageless artifacts? Will they talk about these two weeks for twenty years, or spend the flight home in silence, each trapped inside his or her own headphones?

My lousy self-esteem makes me assume that everyone else has it better, and easier, than I do. I figure I'm the only one sitting on the curb, isolated in the middle of a hundred people, paralyzed with fear of trying to break into a conversation with my neighbors. I wonder if, when I'm behind closed doors, nobody thinks twice of me or my family -- or worse, whispers about my parenting, my appearance, or my social lapses.

When all the Stuart Smalley-isms fail you and you're completely alone in your head, how do you function?

Home Fragrance Holdings, Inc. Recalls Candles Sold at Pier 1 Imports Due to Fire Hazard

WASHINGTON, D.C. – The U.S. Consumer Product Safety Commission, in cooperation with the firm named below, today announced a voluntary recall of the following consumer product. Consumers should stop using recalled products immediately unless otherwise instructed.

Name of Product: Cement Candles
Units: About 413,000 candles
Importer/Distributor: Home Fragrance Holdings Inc., Houston, Texas

Hazard: The candles can unexpectedly flare, posing a fire hazard to consumers.