If you thought the first one was good, read this...It's not as good, but is still pretty great. Or at least good. Mediocre, let's just say mediocre.

I was driving down to New Jer- I mean Tennessee (state change due to necessary anonymity clause) the other day and saw a really good bumper sticker. "You don't have to believe everything that you think." I really liked it and thought about it for the rest of the drive down, in between throwing small packages of carbohydrates, Hail Mary style, to my son in the way, way backseat of the minivan. I loved the idea that our brains are completely under our control, we can accept or deny information input from one section of our brain (thought) to the other section of our brain (belief). We can put up blockades to those neurons if we decide a thought has gone astray from our moral compass. As in, "I am totally fat and can't fit into even my "recovering- from- baby- but -not- into- my- old -size- yet jeans." Go away, thought. You are not welcome here. My brain is now only for happy thoughts. You are absolutely free to think about rainbows, butterflies, jelly bracelets, and Target shopping trips. Aaahh, feels good.

As I was enjoying the newfound clarity and peace found from the message of this meant-t0-be bumpersticker, I realized the converse is also true, or should be. I wish I could believe some of the things that I think. For instance, I absolutely think that every family has to find their own style, their own way of doing things. However, in actuality, it has become apparent to me that I don't believe that for one second. For instance, when I say to a friend, "I don't think we'll do a playdate with them because our parenting styles just don't mesh," it actually means, "I am completely right, they are completely wrong and I don't want to hang out with them because my kids might start behaving like their little terrors by osmosis." **



**Now, hopefully, I have only said this to someone in my mind, but if I have said this to someone out loud and that someone happens to be reading this blog, please know that when I said it to you, I really did mean that our styles don't mesh well, and not the thing about the little terrors. That part was for the other people I have spoken to about the non-meshing parenting styles.



Anyway, incorrect usage of footnotes aside, I think it is an important thing to consider those things that we think and then decide whether to take them on as beliefs or not. Also, it is important to take those things that we think and turn them into rock-solid beliefs. Then, maybe the next time I say to a friend, "There is a reason for everything and it might not be apparent now, but I'm sure this (here reader must take his/her pick: job loss, divorce, your favorite lipstick shade being discontinued) is happening for some reason," I might actually believe it and apply it to my own life. How cool would that be??

What a great bumper sticker, what a great message... Although, I was going 75 while tossing a package of crackers, so it also could have said, "honk if you're horny." Beep beep.

Are there Pulitzers for blogs? 'Cuz this is good. Seriously.

Oh my God, I actually started a blog. My very first one... I spent so much time thinking about my appearance on Oprah after millions of people start reading this and I change their lives for the better that I have no idea what to say. I know exactly what I will say on Oprah. I will be pithy and self-effacing, laughing with my chin tilted up just so. My cell phone will ring immediately upon leaving the Oprah show and it will be a Hollywood producer who is looking for someone just like me, who has no acting experience, is 31 years old and has a mom haircut. Said producer will then whisk me away to a private jet, complete with nanny, and away I go to fortune and fame. Except, damnit, I lost my cell phone. Oh well, on to the actual content of the blog (which will be life-changing and a totally new art form, so prepare yourselves/self.)
All of you reading this (which means you, Mom) will wonder how exactly I am going to be funny and cute and totally readable. I'm not even the funniest one in our family. In fact, I'm probably one of the quieter ones. Except, of course, when I am leaving messages designed to incite guilt on a certain brother's voice mail, which I have gotten for the fifty-millionth time. I don't even have anything to say to you, said brother (if you are person #2 reading this), I just want to make sure you're not mad at me. "Why would he be mad," my irritatingly non-paranoid husband says. I have no idea, but I will keep calling until he picks up and then he will be totally un-mad and I will have nothing to say and will feel really bad about interrupting his super-busy life.
(Here comes the life-changing, new art form, Oprah noticing content...)
Hmmm...kind of stuck. Maybe, instead, I will let all of my reader/s know a little bit about me. Once you do, I'm sure you will think I'm awesome. Perfect, even. The kind of person you want to be just like. (If you are a woman, a mom, a wife or a person who laughs when other people get hurt-but not too hurt.) Because you will want to be like me, you will read this, follow my life, follow my kids' lives and we will laugh together (separately) about my kids falling down, or saying hysterical things, or heckling me while I read them books. For any paparazzi/o (the singular of paparazzi...or if it's not, it should be) reading this, please do not follow my life a la Gosselin style, except of course if it leads to large amounts of publicity and money. However, that being said, paparazzi/a (much more likely than o) please do not take pictures of me until I am thin again. And, please only take them of me when I am not leaning my head a certain way that makes it appear as if I have a tiny double chin (but only in pictures, not actually in life.) Just so you/you all know I have a beautifully shaped single chin in real life.

A few things about me that you should know if you don't already, but you probably do because you are, most likely, my mom.

1.) I laugh when my kids get a little hurt (but not too hurt). Like when my then three year old took a header into a giant mud puddle after he said, "you're not the boss of me." Karma, anyone?

2.) I just ate a chocolate peppermint candy cane left over from Christmas (it's September) because we have no suitable candy in the house. It was terrible but I'm probably going to have another one when I am done writing this. (which, clearly, might not ever happen)

3.) I find that prescription for inadequate eyelash length to be absolutely ridiculous. Why don't those inadequate lash length scientists start working on the problem of a tiny double chin that only appears in pictures. Now there's something worth researching!

4.) I think that my kids are amazing, unique, hysterical and generally provide excellent fodder for a blog. (Especially because you love them so much Mom, and you're my audience, lady!!)

So, there you go. Me. In a nutshell. Must go; Oprah might be calling now and I only have dial-up. Or it might be aforementioned brother, from whom I must ascertain whether he is angry or not and then, of course, be reassured that he is not angry, never was, and still thinks I'm wonderful/perfect/the best sister anyone could have.