It was dark when we got up today. Daaaark. In the morning. I hate that. Also, it’s still raining.

Plus: Hey, I can’t possibly be expected to mow or rake in this sort of weather.

Minus: I can’t put out the Halloween decorations without a measure or two more of motherly commitment than I currently possess.

Apropos of nothing: I think I should have my hearing checked. Here in the Land O’ Dunkin Donuts they keep running this commercial for the new vanilla spice coffee. Twice now I have been COMPLETELY POSITIVE that they were hawking “new liver spice coffee!”

It’s not that I’ve been drinking liver spice coffee (or any coffee, for that matter), but I warn you now that there is no cohesion to be had here. It’s just been that sort of day. Apples, yes. Beauty tips, sure. But no cohesion.

The kiwi project is complete. Somehow I’ve been suckered into driving Chickadee to school tomorrow, on account of the kiwis in their box and the poster with its various accoutrements might be squished on the bus. And tomorrow is a bus evacuation drill! Endangered flightless birds should not be forced to jump out the back of a bus! That goes double for colored index cards!

The alignment of the planets was just right this evening. Chickadee finished her project while Monkey did his “homework” (a journal page based on the book he’d brought home to read–“I liked the red monster! He was NOT HAPPY!”) and I got dinner going. Then both showered and got into clean jammies before we ate. After dinner, a brief meeting around the cookbooks yielded a unanimous decision. I started pulling out mixing bowls and measuring cups while directing the kids towards ingredients.

I peeled the crisp Spencers we’d picked in the peeling/coring thingamabobby, and tried to keep a straight face while each ribbon of peel was grabbed and consumed–Lady and the Tramp style–amidst giggles. (Yes, that’s right. My children will leave a whole, crisp apple uneaten in their lunchbags for days on end, but they were fighting over shreds of apple peel like they were mainlining pure sugar. Do not ask me to explain.) In very short order we had triumphed over the never-ending supply of apples. Voila! Apple dumpling cake! Quite a bit less work than traditional dumplings, suitable for letting everyone “help” when you still want an early bedtime.

But, uh, in looking at that picture now, I can see that it looks an awful lot like a pan of dusty brains. And it turned out terribly. Really. That extra cinnamon Chickadee insisted upon really just made it… uhhh… well, that paired with the crispy, crumbly, fluffy crust… and the sweet/tart of the fruit… I mean… ummmmm… honest, you don’t want any. I had some (still warm) with vanilla ice cream and I just had to choke it down, I tell you. Don’t bother coming over. I’ll probably just have to throw it away.

You know what it’s really good to do when you’re gorging yourself on dessert? Watch “America’s Next Top Model.” Yes! This is another one of those shows where I WANT to stop watching… I WANT to look away… but I just can’t. I’m captivated by the insanity. It’s like passing a car accident, but with a lot more lipstick. Tonight the girls were being confronted about their biggest flaws and how to compensate for them. (I love that–here’s a chick who could be in the act of vomiting on her shoes and still look better than me on my very best day ever, and the judges are all, “Honey, your ears are too pointy!”) So their styling tips were things like “keep your body at a 45 degree angle to the camera” and “tilt your head up a bit to elongate your neck.” What a waste of airtime. Normal people don’t need those sorts of pointers.

Normal people need tips like “you can heat up those so-called ‘cold’ wax strips with your hairdryer, and then they grab a lot more hair” or “if you’ve been crying and your eyes are all red and squinty, cold cucumber slices will really feel nice and take care of the puffiness in about 5 minutes” or “if you don’t like the way you look in pictures, just makes sure you’re always the one with the camera!” I should totally have a show. We could call it the search for America’s Next Overextended Mom. I am JUST LIKE Tyra Banks, what with the useful tidbits of information and such.

Only, my hair is darker than hers.

The only thing that could’ve made today more perfect would’ve been if I’d finally won the kids over on my FANTABULOUS Halloween idea. Last year, Monkey was a knight and Chickadee was a dragon. I think it would be hilarious if they swapped costumes this year. See, then they’d still be a matched pair! And I wouldn’t have to buy new costumes! And did I mention how they’d be a matched pair? Ahem. Anyway, they’re not buying it. Neither are they telling me what they think they need to dress as, and I don’t really want to spend any money when we have an entire toy box filled with dress-up clothes, and for some strange reason they are just not buying into my enthusiasm over recycling costumes.

Let’s see… today’s the 12th… we’ve got about a week before it gets ugly. (“Oh! I know! I’ll cut a hole in this garbage bag and you can wear that!”) I hope the cake lasts that long.

[Special extra bonus real-person beauty tip: If you insist on eating everything you bake, forget that pesky diet and exercise jazz. Simply “work from home” and never have to interact with people face-to-face! Why, you’re prettier already!]