Ahh, Mmmm, yeah.....

Hear that? Smell that? They're both me. Me after bombing around the pond and the trails that branch off the nicely unmaintained road that we live on.

I hopped on my snowmobile and did the most riding I've done in the last 4 years. Ahhh. Even Tall Boy commented on the smile across my face as I pulled out of the driveway.

Then, after dinner, the much needed shower to rinse the smell of exhaust off me. Mmmm.

Oh yeah. It's nice to be back.

She's got it, She's got it [insert panic here]....

Bam-Bam is brain dead, I swear. I say things over and over and over to him yet we still have recurring crisis' to deal with.

Case in point: We have two dogs, 5 years and 6 months, that are members of the family. They are let outside for very small portions of the day to do what it is dogs need to do while outside. Beyond that, they're in here, in the house, with us sharing space. But, as much as I try to personify their existence, they are still dogs that need managing. I'd like to think that I do an ok job in that aspect and have been trying to also get Bam-Bam to grasp what is clearly his job in their management too.

I'm not talking feeding them or taking them for walks or clipping nails. Come on, Bam-Bam is only 3. But, he is responsible for setting the gates back up between rooms to keep them away from his bologna sandwich or train set pieces. The big dog and the little dog, respectively, see those items as cavier.

As much as I remind and remind and remind though, Lacey still eats bologna with mayo and Josey still eats the train set. And I still play referee. And Bam-Bam still cries.

Maybe I actually live here alone and everything I do each day is some irrational dreamlike state from which I'll never wake....

Today, class, we will be discussing current events...

I'm not all that attentive to current events. Setting a bad example for Bam-Bam, certainly. I can't really explain why either. I mean, I care, I think, about what's going on around me but not with any sense of urgency.

For example, I didn't really start reading articles about the tsunami until pretty late in the day Monday. The thing killed what experts estimate to be over 200,000 people in just a couple hours time and I didn't even catch wind of it until probably 36 hours later.

And it's not because I don't have the means to keep informed because I've been accused of spending WAY too much time on this little black box. The problem is I don't spend that time on any sites that would perform the task for me.

I jump over to CNN only if and after Yahoo gives a good enough teaser as a choice of their 6 headlines on the front page. Any of you that have ever checked out Yahoo's headlines you know that interesting teasers are NOT their forte.

I think what's most sad is that at one point in my life, MSNBC was my homepage. Now my homepage is an iVillage message board I am admittedly addicted to and my primary source of news is the website for the local cheesy paper. Basically what I'm trying to say is that if I put thoughts on paper about a news topic, more often than not it's probably going to have basis from The Foster's and not The New York Times or USA Today.

The Reality of my Reality

It started with Trading Spaces. I used to wish I knew the name of even one of my neighbors enough to enlist them for the show so I could get my bedroom redone by Genevieve or Vern and so I could also say that Ty Pennington was in my bedroom...yummy. Soon I envisioned myself being surprised some Sunday night by the gang from While You Were Out with some contrived story as to why I was at the resort spa and learning that my husband may indeed think of me lovingly when I'm not around (oh, and also realizing that Andrew Dan-Jumbo was in my bedroom....fruit salad!).

Once I relinquished the idea of hunky men building me a bed fit for the goodess within me, I shifted gears toward shows like What Not To Wear that take your true self (and poor department store choices) to transform you, inside and out, into the latest Paris Hilton or MK/Ashley Olsen. Trendy, hip, someone others want to emulate. Cool.

As more and more networks followed the TLC lead, I found myself longing for more: Ty could again come to my house and solve all of the construction issues that have come to light since we bought this house and learned the original owner ran out of money by applying to be on Extreme Makeover: Home Edition (unfortunately, we're not "wonderful" or "needy" except that we don't have much money so the big bus won't be parked out in front of our house any time soon). Or maybe I could leave for 4 months and come home looking like a completely different person with hair extentions and messed up lips by being on The Swan. Not exactly practical for someone that is parenting alone from Monday to Friday.

My latest dream-state? If I thought I could leave my little one behind for upwards of 15 weeks, I'd be sending in an application video to The Biggest Loser or having a British woman, younger than me and without children of her own, stopping by to right my parenting ways ala SuperNanny. Better yet, an e-mail to Dr. Phil to have him help DH and I reconnect.

The reality of my reality is much simpler than that. I need to lose more than 50 pounds and have my boobs put back up where they used to sit all perky and pretty, my kid doesn't always respect me but he loves me a whole bunch, my husband and I teeter on the brink of emptiness more often than not and my house won't be gracing the cover of BH&G anytime soon. I may be dreaming but I have a great life.

Maybe my 15 minutes of fame is more realistically dropping the arm and reciting "Real Sex, take 2" somewhere on the streets of New York....