We have a “second showing” tomorrow, so I went to the Catholic store & bought a St. Joseph.  So I’m standing at the cashier & the sales guy says, “Do you like our crucifixes?” & I’m all, “Yes, they remind me of my childhood.”  He totally does a double-take & I’m half-tempted to make some smart-ass statement but then I was afriad I’d get struck by lightning.  So I explained that I had Catholic family & when I was little, we’d visit our family in Philly & I’d sleep on the floor watching Jesus on the wall above my cousin’s bed & he always kind of freaked me out.  Southern Baptists don’t put Jesus on the cross.  Then he was all, “Do you want to be on our mailing list?” & I’m 2.5 seconds from saying no but then I was overcome & went ahead & gave him my name, address, & the hell with it, my telephone number.  It’s like they pump in guilt through the HVAC system, like oxygen in the Vegas casinos.

I had to talk Harry out of sleeping with 4 monster trucks & 10 matchbox cars last night, along with Templeton & Hank & the book we read.  What is with toddlers & bedtime hoarding?

I am making it a point to tell Doug how proud I am of him on the regular.  Our lives are so bonkers & full of change these days & he is just as calm as ever.  I’m needing more couch-time in my doctor’s office & Doug is steady, telling me that it will all be okay.

I started watching Sister Wives.  They’re a sweet family, but there’s something about the wives that totally creeps me out.  I can’t put my finger on it just yet, minus the whole “yeah, I’m totally comfortable with my husband banging 2 other women on the regular under the same roof.  Because love should be multiplied!”

Me these days: