Somebody pinch me, because it is already St. Patrick's Day.  Like 85% of you, I'm Irish and though I have been to Ireland, visited the cathedral named for the patron saint, and chugged a Guinness from the actual Guinness Storehouse, I still enjoy a good ole Americanized version of the holiday.  Now I'm not saying I support large crowds, cover charges, or irresponsible drinking, but I love wearing my green and celebrating Erin Go Bragh (Ireland Forever).  
 

A mother was tidying up around the house while her young daughter was drawing with crayons. The mom would occasionally peek at her 4-year-old’s work.

After awhile, she looked again to see what the little girl was working so diligently on. “What are you drawing?” the mother asked.

The girl replied, 'I'm drawing God.'

The mom paused, then said, “But no one knows what God looks like.”

My husband and I have  recently received one of "those calls," the kind you fear getting in the middle of the night but is more likely to come on an otherwise exquisite day when you are minding your own business. Drinking tea, perhaps, out of your favorite mug, the one you bought in Colonial Williamsburg, back when your father was still alive. Maybe you're "googling" vacation getaways or updating your Facebook page. 

I'm a little frazzled by how many folks think that "protecting" their Twitter status and only "friending friends" on Facebook means the things they say on the Internet are private. Please remember, there is no privacy on the Internet. None. It's all Google-able.

Let's be clear. This is NOT a promo for Dish Network. It IS a promo for oh-my-gosh-i-can't-believe-how-easy-life-is-sometimes! Last night, my husband alerted me to a new iPhone app by Dish Network, a satellite company we employ in our home. The app is free and touts remote DVR capabilities. Intrigued, I downloaded it.

I’m not a buttinsky mom. You know the type -- the ones that “tsk tsk” as if their babies’ dirty diapers didn’t stink.

Week two started off by my getting my summer 'do a bit early.  I decided a nice pixie haircut was in order, so that my hair was not hanging in my face dripping with sweat while I ran, and jumped and squatted, and did crunches until the cows came home.  I am from Wisconsin after all.  Drill instructor Josh keeps us pushing ourselves to do just five reps more or just 10 more seconds, which some evenings seems like hours.  But we keep extending ourselves, so we can better our best performances, and become stronger with every class. 

Winner, winner, birthday dinner.  I may have been correct in my assumption that we were dining at Acorn for my birthday, but I couldn't have assumed how wonderful of a dining experience it would be.
 
I had been waiting for a special occasion to try Acorn for quite some time, so when my birthday rolled around I couldn't resist hinting to my boyfriend that I wanted to try this West End hot spot.

Yes, I drive a big white mini-van. And yes, I have two sons who play soccer. And yes, this year, my husband will be their team’s coach, replete with clipboard and whistle.

But I am not a “SOCCER MOM.”