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.