I pulled myself out of bed this morning around 4 am, and stumbled to the kitchen, scrubbing at my eyes and not wanting to wake the kids. Since giving myself that raging sinus infection, I've been leery to use my stupid breathing mask thing. As a result, I've been suffering through some of the weirdest dreams ever.

I dreamed that I was being forced to adopt seven kittens and while I was stressed about the logistics, the thing that woke me in a cold sweat was the dream-kids fighting over what to name them.

I dreamed that my entire extended family except me had been turned into zombies, and I was stressed about the logistics, but the thing that shot me awake with a pounding heart was the fact that I was (in my dream) behind on emails for work.

I also dreamed I had a tail, and my tail had a rash. I woke up itching. It was blue and spiked. The tail, not the rash.

The weather has been chilly, but today enough sun broke through that I felt justified in taking the kids to the pool for an hour. They jumped right into the cold water, while I basked in the sun like a lizard, trying to absorb some warmth.

Back at home, I noticed that while my legs remain ghostly white, my face has now taken on a ruddy tone, perfect for all those BlogHer photo opportunities.

That reminds me of another weird dream. I was being held against my will in some sort of prison camp, and I woke up because I couldn't remember all the words to a song I was trying to sing in the dream. I woke up totally irate, but couldn't remember what song it was.

Yeah, time to brave the mask again, methinks.

My oldest has been obsessed with her upcoming start of middle school. She's so ready for this show to get on the road. She wants to shop for school supplies right this minute, despite the fact that we still have a ton of supplies, and we don't know what the school recommends or requires. She has also spent quite a few days planning possible outfits, all of which look like something out of a Japanese anime. I'm not sure how to break it to her that she'll be wearing jeans and tees, not thigh-high platform boots and cat ears, but maybe the lack of these items being available in the mall will resign her to a more 6th grade friendly look.

My son hasn't grown, and since it is summer and I can scarcely keep a shirt on him, most of the summer tees and jeans I bought him at the end of the school year still fit perfectly and look like they are new. Or that faux-aged look that we pay good money for.

Oh my GOD. I just aged 30 years by saying that.

He's never shown any inclination to follow a certain style. He likes striped shirts the best, but I think that is from all the Blue's Clues we watched back in the day. He just wants to be comfortable. And I can work with that.

My youngest is reaping the benefits of having an older sister and has a ton of hand-me-downs she's just now growing into. I'm still going to get her a new outfit or two to start school. It's not a need, but I want to do it, so she'll feel special and so the back to school photos will be cute. Really, it is about the photos.

Every year, we've hauled the kids out into the front yard and posed them under the tree in their new outfits, lunchboxes and backpacks in hand. But this year, my oldest starts her new school the day after the littles go to their first day. I'm left with a dilemma - should I dress her up in her new outfit and make her pose with the kiddies? Or do I do a shot of her first day separately?

Yes, I'm thinking about this three-weeks early. My time would be better spent obsessing about what to wear to BlogHer. But the truth is I'm going to wear a handful of dresses and maybe some shoes. No, definitely some shoes. And I'll probably do some panic shopping on Saturday. Do I need to do this? No. I have a ton of stuff to wear in my closet. Will I do it anyway? Yes.

I went into the BlogHer offices last week for a visit, and half the staff was discussing how they had scheduled hair and nail appointments for the week before the conference. I am overdue, and luckily was able to con my stylist into working me in this Saturday. Now, I too will prance into the conference like a My Little Pony named Dazzleberry, gray roots banished.

My husband will tell you this hair baloney is not a necessity, but my gray roots are probably going to be the next thing that jolts me awake from a dream about being shipwrecked or something.

That's sort of my pattern this year - yeah yeah, major bad things are going on in the world but my kids have cabin fever and THAT is what is jolting me awake.

You can call me the the queen of minutia. Or Dazzleberry. I'll answer to that, too.