I am so glad it's finally Friday. I am ready to sleep in tomorrow. I wonder if I'll get to? My sleep-nemesis, Izzy, is not a fan of the 10 am wake up. She is so happy and squirmy in the morning,though, it's impossible to be mad at her.

Tonight we're having a family TV night and watching Cartoon Network. The theme this week is aliens, and Foster's Home for Imaginary Friends is going to feature Cheese as an alien. If you haven't watched FHFIF, you should. Cheese is awesome. "I have braces." That would be funny to you if you had watched FHFIF. One great thing about having kids, it's ok to watch cartoons.

Xavier has a nice conspiracy theory about TV. He believes there are secret, powerful puppet masters at work, creating far-reaching themes for entertainment. First, he said, it was pirates, and now it's aliens. He said this after seeing an ad for BONES that had an alien theme. Actually now that I think about it, CSI was about aliens, too. I guess everything is coming up aliens. Maybe he's right.

My sunburn is finally getting less painful. I have started peeling, which is completely awesome. I am quite skilled at it, and I can peel of large sections of the thinnest flesh. The boys are very impressed. Now I have rolls and pieces of skin strewn about that I'll have to vacuum up. As gross as that sounds, at least it's not cat hair.

I told Adrian I was going to have skin cancer some day. He comforted me by replying, "Me too."

It's so strange talking to him on the phone. All day long I get excited, anticipating his call. I make a mental list throughout the day of the things I want to tell him about. Fergie from The Black-Eyed Peas pissed her pants on stage. Isabella got a new t-shirt that says, "Does this diaper make my butt look big?" Orian is playing Halo. And on and on. Well, those things don't sound exciting, but in my head I have all this electric, unrelated tidbits that I'm so eager to share with him.

But then when he calls, my excitement has turned into nervousness and I forget my mental list and what comes out is more like "adventures in toenail clipping". Sometimes I'm a mile a minute with that mundane stuff, and I always apologize, but he tells me not to, because that's why he calls. To hear my voice.

I am going home to Texas for the summer, and I wonder if it will be hard for Adrian and I to stay in contact. He can call my cell, but Pa and Gran-Gran don't have internet. I'll pay for the whole wang-dang-doodle if I have to, because I can't live without internet.

I am really excited about my trip. I will get to see old friends, and get to introduce the baby to her family. And most of the family hasn't seen the boys in a couple of years, either, and they have definitely changed a lot. We won't have all the comforts of home, especially not Izzy since I can't bring her swing or her Jumperoo on the plane.

I hope I don't get crap about nursing her during the flight. People who don't like it can shove an eggplant up their asses for all I care. My baby has the right to eat, and I'm pretty sure they'd rather she eat and be comforted than for her to spend the flight crying or screaming. I have a Hooter Hider I can cover up with, but it's such a hassle. I guess if my seat is relatively private I'll just feed her, but if there's lots of unfriendly looking people around I'll cover us up. It's not like anyone would see anything anyways. Beside, I have nice boobs.

I am also concerned about passing through the conga line of suckholes in airport security. I'm going to have 3 kids, a stroller, and probably close to double digits in luggage to deal with at the airport. After I've checked our bags, I'm still going to have probably 6 carry-ons. I plan to put Izzy in her Moby Wrap, and I am nervous thinking they are going to make me take her out to go through the metal detector. That will make things infinitely more difficult. I've seen them make people take slippers off before. Adrian has to unlace his boots and take them off, then put them back on on the other side every time.

Stress.

There are so many logistical issues to work out associated with this trip. And I should probably clean the house before I leave. That way if a housing worker decides to steal something while I'm away, he won't trip over baby toys and XBOX remotes on his way to snag the DVD player.

Well, this dead skin's not going to peel itself...