Best Mom Tip #147: Read this in New Hampshire

You know how you're supposed to leave questions blank on the SAT if you don't know the answer? Yeah, I couldn't do that. I filled in a bubble on every line no matter what.

It drives me nuts when Jay leaves open the kitchen cabinets because there is now a gaping hole.

In my music appreciation class in college our professor told us a legend about, ummmm.... let's say... Mozart, and how his mom/paramour/whatever woke him up with an unfinished cadence. Like playing "shave-and-a-haircut" but leaving off the "two-bits." Mozart (or whoever this is about) would have to get out of bed just to play the last couple of notes. Obviously I don't remember any other details about this legend except that that would drive me nuts, too.

I have a problem with unfinished things.

Well, unfinished irrelevant things, at least. Pile of laundry on the bed/chair/pool table--no problem. Half of the dishes unloaded from the dishwasher--that's how it's supposed to look.

But putting down a book in the middle of a chapter? Beginning a pattern of anything and not being able to complete it? These things drive me absolutely nuts to the point that I will give up sleep and forgo dessert to take care of them.

So what does that have to do with New Hampshire? Just this: Blogger lets you see a map overlay of where in the world people have seen your blog. Although people in over 100 countries have accidentally found their way here, no one in New Hampshire ever has.

It's the only state not represented. It drives me crazy that the whole map is green...except for New Hampshire. I don't even know what Blogger is tracking when it tells me this and it still annoys me. For all I know New Hampshire doesn't have it's own system and any views from there show up as Vermont. They are really close together. And seem to be hugging.

But, really, no one? Ever? I mean, I have readers in India (what's up New Delhi?!!). And Iran. And once, someone in the Sudan stumbled here. How is it that no one in New Hampshire has ever wanted to buy their mom a "you're the best mom" t-shirt and clicked on my blog by mistake? Go ahead, google "best mom." You'll see what I mean.

So, help out a neurotic and obsessive person. Get someone in New Hampshire to read this so I can move on with my life.

Best Mom Tip #146: Don't take your kids to the doctor

O.k, I guess that you have to take your kids to the doctor. It's probably illegal or something to deny them medical care. I did read an article recently about a woman who remembers being told by her Christian Scientist parents that her chicken pox were only in her mind and that she should pray them away, so I guess that's an option.

Until I convert, however, I have to keep taking them (oftentimes en masse) to see various medical professionals. Today it was Baby Harry and the dermatologist. I don't know what it is about dermatological diseases, but they all sound awful.

I have a friend whose kid had a rash called giovanni crosti (or something that sounds like that-I never actually saw it written down). However you spell it, it sounds like something crusty you picked up on the subway while headed to Little Italy.

We took Harry to see if he had a thing called molluscum contagiosum. Which, because I am a nerd, made me think he had been cursed by a 3rd year from Hogwarts and that clams would soon be spreading across his body.

That's not what he has, actually, so if you were planning on coming to my house for dinner anytime soon there's no reason to throw up.

What I really don't like about taking kids to the doctor is that it involves a lot of intense sitting still. I say intense because I expend a lot of energy trying to keep everyone else still. I bribe them with snacks, electronic games, special toys-all in the hopes that no one will melt down until I understand what's wrong with the sick kid.

Today, as we were leaving, a mom told her very nice teenage boy to get the door for me. The problem was that I needed to unfold the double stroller and in those moments Griffin ran out the open door and down the hall of the office building. I had to put Harry down on the floor, put down my bag, the diaper bag, and the notes from the doctor, and chase him down.

I got back to the office door just as Harry was making his way out. That teenage kid politely held the door open the entire time. I'm sure our exit made all the other patients happy not to be me today.

There is nothing fun about taking kids to the doctor. Except maybe the princess stickers.