Reading: Several Entertainment Weeklys. I have a subscription and have fallen way behind.

Watching: R.E.M. singing "Furry, Happy Monsters" on Sesame Street. Michael Stipe is showing more enthusiasm in this clip than in the past five R.E.M. videos put together.

Weather: Schizophrenic! It is 81 deg. today, sunny, and beautiful. Tomorrow it is supposed to be 50 deg. and raining.

Ladies Who Lunch

2:35 p.m. I'm at Borders cafe enjoying an afternoon out after lunch with Mary. Mary is Mom's oldest and dearest friend and almost like a second mother to me. Her only child, Mimi, was a good friend of mine when we were growing up; though I don't see much of Mimi anymore, I've remained close to Mary. She lives in Texas now with the man she married four years ago, but she comes back here frequently to see her grandchildren. She is a warm, generous, big-hearted person, and seeing her is the next best thing to seeing my own mother. It is comforting to spend time with someone who has known me since I was a baby. I don't have to prove anything to Mary, or explain anything either. She's seen my family's ups and downs at first hand, and has her own wise perspective on them.

Stephanie was late arriving to watch the boys. I asked her to come at 11:30 a.m. so I would have enough time to transfer the car seat into her car and make myself look half way presentable before meeting Mary at 12:30 at Chevy's. Stephanie showed up at 12, a half hour late. All the women in her family are incapable of arriving anywhere on time; Tab's aunts are always late, too.

I wish Stephanie would at least call to tell me she's running late, but she almost never does. It's something that really annoys me, obsessively punctual person that I am. We used to try to work around her problem by giving her a false time; if we needed her to be somewhere at, say, 2 p.m., we'd tell her to come at 1:30. Unfortunately, she's caught on to that little trick. If we really need her to be somewhere at a certain time, the best we can do is tell her we really, REALLY need her to arrive on time. Then she is only ten minutes late.

Of course, she is providing free babysitting services, so it is hard to stay too mad at her.

The other night Tab went out to collect our tax forms from the accountant's and to pick up a prescription for Nana at CVS. While he was gone, I cleaned up from dinner and prepared Tab's and Daniel's lunches for the next day. Matthew was playing Reader Rabbit on the computer, and Daniel was constructing a space station out of K'nex. Stephen walked into the kitchen, his blankie slung over his arm like a makeshift satchel.

"I'm going to CVS," he announced.

"OK, honey. Could you pick up some allergy medicine for me?"

"OK," he agreed, watching me remove a plastic spoon from a nearly empty box. "Do you need some forks?" he asked.

"Sure, get me some forks."

Stephen turned to Daniel. "Do you want something at CVS, Daniel?" he asked.

"Yeah, Chapstick."

"OK." Stephen trundled off down the back hallway. A few minutes later he was back, handing me my invisible purchases. "Here's your medicine, Mama, and your forks."

"Thanks, honey."

"Daniel! Here's your Chapstick."

"Thanks."

If I had to pick one adjective to describe my hair it would be fluffy. It's fine hair that is definitely not straight but not quite wavy either. Fuzzy little wisps of hair are always going off in all directions. I guess it doesn't help that I shower at night and sleep on wet hair, but there is no time for me to shower in the morning. I was trying to grow out my bangs last month, but then they reached that awkward stage and I caved in and cut them. Now they do a "Something about Mary" flip most mornings until I get them under control with Frizz-ease mousse.

I prefer to keep my hair long, because then I can at least keep it off my face with a braid or ponytail. I hate hairdressers and usually trim my hair myself. Last Sunday I got frustrated with my hair and instead of a trim, I cut about 5 inches off it. It is now shoulder length: think Dana Scully in the first season of the X-Files. I'm not sure how I feel about it yet, but I know Tab is not pleased. He is vocal about his preference for long hair.

Daniel has inherited my hair's texture. His yellow, fluffy hair makes me think of a baby duck. Stephen and Matthew both have hair that is darker blond, wavy, and coarser in texture, like Tab's. Tab has great hair, thick and wavy. Life is so unfair.

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