So last night at nine-thirty I was sitting at the computer–cream cheese coated bagel in hand–thinking of what an awesome skinny plan I came up with yesterday. Man, when I put that plan into action, watch out. By the time my man gets home I’ll be rocking those skinny jeans (aka lycra spandex leggings printed with photos of denim material–really subtle stuff. One size fits most.).

(For the record, the plan will start as soon as I finish these last six bagels. In case you are struggling with the math, that’s about four bagels a day so I should be starting Saturday–except no one starts a diet on the weekend, so I’ll restock the bagel bin and start on Monday. Go me.)

You know your husband is lonely when you sit down at the computer to skype with three largish kids on your lap, ratty clothes and no makeup, where only the tip of your rumpled hair is showing, and yet the first words out of his mouth are, “Baby, you look so pretty tonight…” [Insert really lonely and slightly charming cow-eyed gaze.]

I volunteered in Harry’s class yesterday and managed to avoid all lightning bolts and mob gatherings. Besides, my hives weren’t even visible to anyone (I get them on my chest, but considering the audience, didn’t feel a low cut shirt was appropriate). It was a great experience, one I plan to repeat several times over for the remainder of the school year, including for Friday’s Valentine’s Day party.

So since my man is out of town, I’ve decided that I’m in the perfect position to tell everyone else what I think a good Valentine Girl would do this coming Sabbath. (Actually, we might want to keep the Sabbath out of it.) My suggestion for ensuring that you have a zesty holiday goes like this:

1. Tell him today that you can’t wait to surprise him on Valentine’s Day, and that you’ve got something amazing cooked up for him. Then wink and adjust your bra.

2. Plan something amazing just in case.

3. Dope the children with Benadryl on Sunday night after family prayers.

4. Let him give you a full body massage.

5. Fall asleep during the massage, then tell him in the morning that it was the best Valentine’s Day ever, and that he’s so thoughtful and selfless.

Boy, I bet Jason is wishing right about now that he was going to be here for Valentine’s Day.

Day three of single parenting.

Here’s the thing. We’ve done the whole extended absence thing, I managed perfectly fine for five months in 2008 without any major setbacks. When Jason mentioned that he’d be gone for five weeks this winter, big whoopdee do. Five weeks is nothing. I haven’t been nervous, anxious, angry, or stressed, and let’s face it. Five weeks of auto-pilot on the housework and a freezer full of lean cuisine’s? I’m all over that. It’s so easy to get skinny when he’s gone.

And yet.

Here I am on day three, the lean cuisine’s are untouched, and I am in the midst of a full blown bagel binge. That’s right, bagels and cream cheese, on the hour, every hour thank you very much. I actually went to Einstein’s yesterday and bought over a dozen asiago cheese bagels so I could freeze some because I’m chewing through them so fast.

And I checked out a nice hefty stack of pointless reading from the library, which I have spent the last 72 hours pouring through. If I’m not mothering or changing a load of clothes or eating a bagel, I’m reading. Like a fiend. You’d think I’ve never met a book before, I’m almost averaging a book a day here, people.

Between the bagels and the non-movement, my jeans are already tight. I swear my scale is loving this, it’s like it can’t wait to spit out a nice big number for me when I step on it (which I did not do this morning, nor will I until I get a grip).

So here’s the plan. I think I can manage the stagnant motion and bagel kick if I do the following: No bagels after twelve o’clock, noon. Yoga, three times a week (I’ve already got the babysitting arranged so I’ll have no excuse to stay home). Fruit and yogurt in the afternoon, and one Lean Cuisine at 5:30 then nothing but water for the rest of the night (well, water and a bowl of sugared berries with real whipping cream on them, because berries are so good for you, right?).

I just reached for a bite of my toasted, schmeared bagel, then realized I wolfed it down when I wasn’t paying attention. Good thing I’ve got ten more upstairs.

I have issues with people and their cell phones. Check out this week’s Top of Utah Voices column for the Standard Examiner. Sorry for the rant, it’s why they pay me the big bucks (which are actually kind of small).

Okay, I have to save it for this week’s column, but let me tell you all, right here, that Jason is very, very not lame. He’s leaving in the morning for five weeks of special agent “I Love To Shoot Guns” camp, and I’ll be a lonely heart this Valentine’s Day.

I really thought he’d just do the old send flowers to your valentine gig (which is a really good idea, hence the link, and something all lazy men should consider). But no, he’s way more sneaky than that. I tell you, sometimes it pays to be married to a good secret keeper.

So whether you’re just going to send valentines day flowers to your honey (again, could I make this any easier for you?) or if you’re more along the lines of the old hot air balloon ride/trip to Maui crowd, we’ve only got one week, people! If you want to come up with something that’s non-boxy and creative, put your noggin to the wheel and think.

Personally, I would love to think of something fabulous I could send my absent man this week. Any good mail order Valentine’s Day surprise ideas that aren’t flowers (because he’d probably get made some serious fun of)? I need your creative brains. Help me.

My first grader is doing geometry. I am serious, rhombus, parallelogram, trapezoid, and a few others I can’t recall due to PTSD–they’ve been showing up in his homework for a week now. I actually have scholastic anxiety over his homework.

We went in for our parent/teacher conference this week and I mentioned that I have no idea what any of those things are, to which his teacher kindly suggested that I google it. Right. Google. I obviously never considered this option because I never use the internet. Seriously, there are moments that I wonder they ever let me out of elementary school to begin with.

Earlier this year I wrote a rather public article about my thoughts on elementary school homework–as in, I’m not really a fan. Let’s just say teachers everywhere (especially local) wanted nothing more than to put a dart board up in the lounge with my mug on it.

And I have to confess, I have a panic attack every time I pull into the drop-off zone of my son’s school. It takes a ten minute pep talk and a diet coke just to scrounge up enough courage so I can show my face inside, and the entire time I’m there I feel like at any moment I’ll be accosted with tar and feathers. (Please note that there has been no actual evidence of tar or feathers, and that these fears live primarily in my own little head.)

The thing is, I hate it when people don’t like me. There, I said it. Call it what you want, but knowing that there is a large majority all gathered under one roof, who would probably be very happy if I didn’t exist in their school district, is enough to make me want to run to the playground and hide under the slide.

And so, when Harry’s teacher mentioned (twice) that she was low on parent helpers, I couldn’t seem to speak up. I tried, really I tried. I’d like to be a mom who helps, but I’m also a terrified loser whimp.

Let me tell you, it took A LOT of guts for me to email her yesterday and offer my services once a week in the classroom. A lot of guts, and an outbreak of hives. She hasn’t gotten back to me. Honestly, I don’t blame her if she doesn’t want me and my hives around, it looks bad for business.

So about two weeks ago we moved into this new blog design. At the time, my designer wasn’t really open for business. Don’t get me wrong, she was doing business all over the place, but as far as plugging herself all over the World Wide Web? Not so much.

So here is Caroline, of Caroline B Designs. She’s fresh, she’s brilliant, and she recently redid Sue’s blog over at Navel Gazing. This is an incredible feat since Navel Gazing has been under construction for the past seventeen years. Seriously, it’s a relief to see something that doesn’t involve cows or clouds. Go Caroline.

Check her out, and give her a shot. And in case you haven’t heard, not only is she one of the giant brains behind Mormon Mommy Blogs, she’s also running the Casual Blogger Conference happening this Memorial Day Weekend here in Utah. The conference is going to rock (did I mention that I’m speaking?). It’s designed for the mommy blogger, the girl who wants to learn just a little more about photography, or writing, or enhancing her personal blog design.

The thing about the CBC that really sets it apart is simple: it’s not about being a high-rolling professional blogger, it’s about connecting with all those other moms who share their hopes and dreams–both private and public–in the blogosphere. It’s about taking our hobbies and dreams to the next level, thanks to this crazy little thing we call a blog.

And the best part? It’s actually affordable. I think this is the reason I’m such a big fan of the CBC, because instead of forking over $300 or so dollars for a conference, they’re making it something mommies without monies can afford. For the day pass at the early bird price, it’s only $99–not to mention the hefty swag bag awarded to the first 100 registrees (still some left…). That’s an incredible deal, especially considering the amazing voices that are going to be teaching, (including CJane, Sue, Kristina, and my favorite photographer, Veronica Reeve, just to name a few).

And in case you’re looking for a place to crash, my house is open. Check it out, it’ll be the best extended GNO you’ve ever experienced.

In case you missed it, I was live yesterday in the worst shirt ever to air in the history of televised fashion. I swear it’s cute in real life. It was so bad that when I saw it, I wanted to vomit, and when Jason saw it, he couldn’t hold back the, “What in the heck are you wearing?” comment. Then I kicked him, ran to my room, and ate half a carton of sherbet.

I was planning to wear a totally slimming black outfit, but the pants weren’t cutting it and I could not, for the life of me, find my sweater. I threw this on three minutes before walking out the door, trusting that my instincts couldn’t lead me astray. Stupid, chubby instincts.

Check out the link in case you missed it yesterday and would like to see me looking really fat. And I know, fat is a relative term, but for me, this is a total crap shot. I can complain, it’s in the warning.

I have a word to say about the Miss America pageant.

Who, in the name of store-bought beauty, ever thought it was a good idea to let me participate in a pageant that involved swimsuits? Because any girl who goes out there, on that stage, of her own free will and choice, is literally begging the world to judge her. Please, criticize my thighs, it will help me be a better person.

(For the record, my enhanced bosom at the Miss Washington Pageant is still a prime family topic at all holiday get-togethers. Any time cutlets are served someone is bound to say, “Remember Annie’s cutlet’s at Miss Washington?”)

I will do everything in my power to encourage my daughter to look for scholarship opportunities elsewhere (unless she’s cocky and self-centered, then I’ll sign her up and cross my fingers she lands 1st Runner Up). I love the Miss America program, but I can’t help feeling slightly heartbroken for all the hopefuls who walk away from their pageanting experience sashless. Oh, the unnumbered fallen.

In other news, I’m spouting off on Studio 5 today, working with Darin, who I’m sure is thrilled to spend seven minutes of his life talking about low-cost/high-maintenance beauty tips and tricks for the not-so-natural blonds and other store bought divas. Crossing my fingers it’s a good hair day (as in, hair out of my face day).

See you on the telly, KSL, 11 o’clock to-day. I’ll try to post the segment if I can.

Today is a good news day. Not only am I getting together with a group of undisclosed girlfriends to party like we did in 1999 when we were all young and hot, but I have some good, great, thrilling news.

First, I just got an email from the Standard Examiner asking me to start writing my Top of Utah Voices Column twice a month. Dave Ramsey is going to be so excited, that means I’m going to get paid double. (Do not be deceived. Double still isn’t that much.)

Second, Monday is my first ever solo gig on Studio 5! That’s right, sometime during that magical hour between eleven and noon I will be on KSL, spouting off about my favorite wintertime low-cost beauty tricks and tips. It’s going to be good stuff, stuff I haven’t even told you about yet (which is kind of shocking since I really do tell you almost everything). So set the DVR and join me on Monday. (I have no idea what I’m going to wear, but I’ve gained five pounds in January, so it will probably be very, very black.)

And lastly, thanks to the generous hearts and deep pockets of my girlfriends in the blogosphere, I am actually moving T-shirts. I think I’ve sold about 25 so far, and I only have around 85 more to sell. So seriously, please consider a T-shirt. It’s a guaranteed moment of happiness, I promise you. Mainly because who doesn’t love getting a package with clothing in it? You want one, you know you do.

Do you ever have days (weeks) when you  know your husband deserves better? When you know that a head cold shouldn’t keep you from doing dishes, or picking up toys, or trash, or laundry or pillows or–where was I? Right. Head cold.

Tomorrow is the science fair at school. Harrison (6), who is so completely related to me sometimes it’s scary, came up with a brilliant science fair project, all on his own. He wanted to make a volcano. One with a switch that you can turn on that will make the lava shoot out of the top. We ended up with something a little…less. He’s quite happy, and I managed to work the switch out of the equation.

(For the record, I made a volcano for my first science fair project, and there might have been a switch. That’s all I’m going to say about that right now.)

Forgive me for getting crass, but I can always tell who Rex has been hanging out with by the things he says. Since Christmas, I notice that he’ll pass gas, then look at me in this knowing way and say, “You know what that means!” Since I have heard my mother say this about five million times, yes, I know what it means. Rex obviously doesn’t, but he says it just the same.

And lastly, (because apparently my post about housework was too depressing to continue with) I am pleased to announce that June is 85% potty trained. That means that she only forgets to peep 15% of the time, and we are quite certain she will eventually stop pooping her pants.

Hope you have a great day, and if you haven’t already, BUY A T-SHIRT, SAVE A MARRIAGE. Wow, I should really get that one printed up…