I have recently been asked to sale my purses and such, at the "Women Art Center" in Salt Lake City. I find this to be a compliment, but it scares me to death. Will the purses be good enough? Will this business be worth the money I am pouring into it? Will my kids soon find a surrogate mother that will love and tend to their every whim like I use to....Oh wait, that has never happened.

I dropped off the allotted amount of merchindise tonight. Came home and started sewing again for my etsy store. Tomorrow I hit the fabric shops for six bags that will be shipped to Australia. Yes that's right boys and girls, I have gone international. This seems to be another great opportunity for me. Cross your fingers, pray to the heavens, rub your lucky rabbits foot, do whatever you need to help me sale myself....I mean my purses.

Communication in our family consists of Instant Messages, Twitter and text messaging. We rarely talk to each other any other way. I do love to twitter. I always have little thoughts running through my head that I like to say but don't ever get a chance to express them. Twitter gives me that opportunity. But there are those days when I despise anything that takes away from a warm friendly conversation. There must be a happy medium somewhere.

In the last year my two oldest girls have entered the world of cell phone ownership. I do like that I can get a hold of my girls anytime I want. Except for the times when they don't answer the phone. Don't get me started.

I grew up with an olive-green rotary-dial phone. Far from the advantages that my girls currently have.

Two little girls looking at a roasted chicken from Sam's club.

Julie: What's that?

Beth: That's just a wing.

I was waiting in line at the DMV. When my number was called I approached the counter. My girls were swarming around me like flies on pooh. I could tell the lady at the counter was having a bad day or this sour personaility was the prerequisite to a government job. She looked as if she was going to devour me. When our transaction was finished she asked me in a cold voice, "What did you do to deserve all girls?"

Who had peed in her cheerios that morning? I really took offense with her attitude. At first I wanted to tell her about the different sexual positions that would achieve the all girl status that we currently have. Instead I said, "Something spectacular, I assure you!"

The lady was prying her foot out her mouth as I walked away. The children were being as loud as possible. Something I didn't seem to mind a bit at that moment.