Last nights episode of the Apprentice was like watching an intervention for an alcoholic. In fact, that’s pretty much how Joan Rivers stated it at the end of the show. Once again, Rodman was all over the place with his actions, words, body control, etc. Some of it can be attributed to Dennis being Dennis, but most of it was due to Dennis being drunk. Voted as the project manager for this task, he had the opportunity to shine, the opportunity to show America (and Donald) that he wasn’t a total goof off, the opportunity to win the task. But…per usual…he just couldn’t get out of his own way.

Having a child with diabetes is a relatively new thing for us. Our son was diagnosed with Type 1 diabetes last year at the age of 12. It was quite the shock, but not totally surprising since it runs in both my husband and my families. We’ve learned a lot along the way, but the one thing that always throws us off is when he gets sick. And I don’t mean, flu or stomach bug, things you think would really throw off his blood sugar. I’m talking about the common cold. His numbers are all over the place. His normal range should be between 70 and 180. One day he had a 67 at lunchtime and 300 at dinner. As a mother, it makes you wonder just what’s going on in that little body of his and how much damage is being done to his internal organs. Basically, it just makes your heart ache. But…we’re all in this together and we will continue to fight the fight to keep him as healthy as possible for as long as possible.

Cleaning out your basement. I’m sure you’ll come across old lamps, clothes, computers, bikes, exercise equipment, etc. that you want to get rid of. But before you load up that U-haul and drive it to the dump, think about giving the items away. I’m not talking about the rusted out hubcap that is probably of no use to anyone, but you would be amazed at what people will take if they know it’s for free.

It was a Sunday afternoon and I had spent the day in my pajamas cleaning house, doing laundry, chasing kids, you know, the usual mom stuff. At about 4 p.m. I decided I would take a shower and get cleaned up. The reason I waited this long is because I’m the type of person who if I know I’m going to be inside cleaning, why change into another set of clothes and get them dirty. Why not just get the ones you have on dirty. FYI, you do know I’m talking about long, cotton jammies not some lacy number held together with something the equivalent of dental floss.

Anyway, after my shower, I knew we weren’t going anywhere so I just put on some flannel lounge pants and a t-shirt. Oh yeah, and some underwear and a bra. When I came downstairs my husband looked at me and said, “I thought you were going to get dressed?”

You know, being a freelance copywriter, I always embrace good marketing copy, but let me tell you…the ad campaign that Proctor & Gamble is using to sell their Always line of sanitary pads just isn’t it!

They’re tag line is…”Have a Happy Period.” Are you kidding me? Tell me one person who rejoices when their time of the month comes. Well, except perhaps the women who were trying to dodge the pregnancy bullet. Other than that, I don’t know anyone who says, “Yippee. I got my period. I can’t wait for the cramps and the bloating to kick in. It’s going to be a banner day!”

OK, so I thought I would stretch my comfort zone a little today. I decided to follow a site about diabetes, since my son has Type 1 diabetes, and then the next thing you know, I have six new diabetes organizations following ME. I gotta admit, it felt a little creepy to find out I’m being followed by strangers. And, I’m pretty sure they’re not following me because they think I’m so totally awesome. I think they’re just waiting for me to hit the ol’ “follow” button to start stalking, uh, I mean following them. Ahhhhh, so this is how social marketing works? Now I get it. Not sure if I like it, but I get it.

My husband was busy sawing his first boards in the basement this weekend. In the process, he made the lights flicker and killed the microwave. OK, maybe he didn’t kill it, but he did blow the circuit.

After the boards were cut, he had to glue them together. I’m learning a lot about this woodworking thing. I always thought you just nail a few boards together and call it done, but apparently when you use “real” wood (vs. plywood), you have to glue smaller pieces together to make one big piece.

Anyway, he’s got two sections glued together so far. I believe he said there were eight. At this rate, something tells me the finished product might not come until the kids leave for college and I don’t need mudroom cubbies anymore.

Nobody I know watches the show Damages that airs at 10 p.m. EST Wednesdays on the FX Network. I don’t know why, except for maybe the fact that it doesn’t get the media attention that some of the more popular shows get. All I know is…it’s awesome!

First, let’s start with the writing. Since I’m a writer, this is something I can really appreciate. Todd A. Kessler, Glenn Kessler and Daniel Zelman, who also serve as executive producers, writers and showrunners, created it. The scripts are so rich and filled with twists and turns that if you’re not paying attention the entire 60 minutes, you miss valuable information about the plot.

Can you even believe what happened last night on the Bachelor? After a long season of watching the “love fest” Jason (the bachelor) finally gets down on his knee and proposes to Melissa. It was a beautiful moment and the show ended with him and her and his three year old son jumping in a swimming pool fully clothed. What a finale.

Every night, or should I say morning, at about 3 a.m. I am awakened by a nagging scratching sensation on the back of my neck, followed by the dull roar of a tiny motor. When I turn to examine this annoyance, I am greeted with the sandpaper face lick and glowing eyes of my beloved cat, Marble.

Now don’t get me wrong, I love my cats dearly and love cuddling with them, but when they use me as the human scratching post…I draw the line. In and out go the claws to the back of my neck, scalp, chest, nothing is sacred. He’s yet to draw blood, except when my husband abruptly tries to shove the cat out of the bed and he is in mid-scratch. The claws hook on my skin like a fishhook retrieving its daily catch.