So how many rainy days does it take before a mother orders two identical princess umbrellas for her girls because they won’t stop fighting over the same, stupid, broken, pink, crap umbrella?

Oh, about 8 days of rain.

I used that 1 click ordering on Amazon.

How scary is that 1 click feature? I mean, you’ve barely started to contemplate whether you really need a genuine leather executive jacket for your Kindle and suddenly you’ve impulsively clicked and within what seems like 45 minutes, a postman delivers it to your door.

There should be some kind of safeguard feature on that 1 click ordering. At least for moms stuck inside with kids who won’t stop arguing about dumb umbrellas.

So today, despite the weather, there were a number of paparazzi camped out in my neighborhood, waiting for a guy named Kiefer Sutherland. That’s them outside Sutherland’s apartment building.

Usually the “24″ star just comes and goes without much attention.

But not this week.

Because recently, Sutherland allegedly head-butted a fashion designer at a party at the Mercer Hotel. Apparently, the actor, who was talking to Brooke Shields at the time, thought the designer got too close to her.

So of course, the obvious solution was to head-butt the guy.

And you see, I would have been so obsessed with talking to Brooke Shields, about the gross unfairness of “Lipstick Jungle” being canceled while “Two and a Half Men” is still on the air, that I would have totally forgotten to head-butt anybody.

Happy Mother’s Day ladies! May your Mother’s Day be whine free and sunny and lovely.

mama bird notes:

Jen S. won the Butterfly Boquet by Teleflora! Congrats Jen.

Thank you to Maria Bailey for an awesome Mom’s Night Out.

And if you’re following my journey on 23andMe, here is an excerpt from my latest post, “From pretty much the moment my daughter was born, she was shy. Ever meet a baby that doesn’t smile? At six months, that was my kid….” To read more, visit 23andMe.

Everyone says moving is so stressful.

And yeah, you have to find somewhere new to live (we’re still looking), pack up all your stuff, spend an entire day yelling at movers who force you to buy 60 jumbo rolls of bubble wrap to protect your belongings, unpack all that stuff again and then try to find a new liquor store, nail salon and friends – all before sundown and the start of an emotional breakdown.

But still, everyone ignores the upside of moving.

You finally get to uncover all the crap you’ve lost in your very own home.

Personally, I’ve been searching for the letter “P” from Dylan’s alphabet puzzle for a good two years. And a search and rescue mission continues to this day for a missing princess puzzle piece. And a Barbie doll leg is also floating around here somewhere.

But even with the obvious plus of reuniting Barbie with her leg, I’m still a little nervous about this moving thing.

I mean, all that quiet and solitude outside the city. No rowdy bachelorette parties at the bar across the street to lull me to sleep. No more honking cabbies and car alarms and dump trucks groaning by in the middle of the night.

No more predictable, slightly uncomfortable small talk with my doorman as I go in and out of the building with my stroller all day. And even though I ran out of fresh ways to say, “Hi Joe. How’s it going?” long ago, it’s still nice to know he’s there.

I hear in the burbs, people actually open their own doors. All by themselves.

It’s going to be quiet. And different. And strange.

Maybe I should bring my doorman with me.

mama bird notes:

Were you thinking you deserved something really fresh and pretty for Mother’s Day? You do! Because you’re a mama superstar!!

I’m giving away the Butterfly Boquet by Teleflora. Isn’t it lovely? To enter to win, just leave a comment and mention the first guy who ever gave you flowers. Good luck ladies.

I recently crept into my daughters’ room, long after they had fallen asleep, to put away some of their clean clothes.

As I lightly tiptoed through the room, like a super secret Julia Roberts spy agent (you know, if agents specialized in fresh scented laundry instead of boring international con jobs), I suddenly heard a little voice in the darkness.

“I want a pink bed,” says 2 year-old Summer.

“Me too. I want a pink bed too,” chimes in 4 1/2 year-old Dylan.

Seriously? Were they just pretending to sleep so they could catch me off guard when I’m terribly weak from folding laundry and watching too many episodes of The Millionaire Matchmaker?

Despite my desperate yearnings to get back to Bravo and those lonely millionaires (especially the “celebrity clients” whom I absolutely swear no one has ever heard of), I am quick to promise nothing.

“Girls, we’ll talk about this in the morning.”

“We want pink beds!!”

“Good night ladies. I love you.”

And then just today, Dylan communicated her desire for a new car.

A pink one.

And if she couldn’t have a new pink car, she’d settle for painting our Jeep pink.

“Can we do that? Can we paint our car pink?” she asks so enthusiastically that I can’t bear to stomp on her passion.

“Maybe. We’ll talk to your daddy about it when he gets home.”  Let Rick ruin her dreams.

“I love pink. I want to be pink. That’s why I painted my hands pink,” she says.

Oh yes, I remember.

You know, it’s amazing what a kid can accomplish while her mom is busy sending a couple quick emails.

So you know what really helps a 2 year-old start potty training?

Taking her potty out of storage.

I truly can not believe someone hasn’t asked me to write a parenting book yet.

While 2 year-old Summer has finally started to take a brief peek at life outside the diaper, my husband Rick has been making an appearance on “The Daily Show.” And when I say “appearance,” I mean, “being ridiculed.”

But heck, it’s “The Daily Show!”  That’s way cooler than an Emmy.

Did you see him? The last anchor in that montage?!

So anyway, despite Rick’s assurances to not freak out, I’m off to obsess over Swine Flu or whatever we’re calling it today.

And of course, to follow the breaking news story in People Magazine that Sasha and Malia may be shirking their dog responsibilities.

Man, at least that one we saw coming.

mama bird notes:

If you are following my genetic journey on 23andMe, here is an excerpt from my latest post..