Throughout 11 summer hours, anything is possible

9 a.m.
Dallas sister-in-law reminds me that I have been delinquent in texting her random photos of Madeline. I instantly search for Madeline to snap a picture. No joke; it was 83 degrees outside and my child is wearing ear muffs inside. But I'm not going to stop her because she's having a fabulous time.

3 p.m.

Madeline treasures her favorite foods. From chocolate chips to popcorn to her morning vitamin, she is too excited to eat it right away and instead alternates between clutching it tightly in her palm for 10 minutes and showing it to everyone within 100 yards. This blue disaster is from just two M&MS.

In this sense, she is not her mother's daughter because I prefer to shovel M&Ms with a spork.

8 p.m.
Eating our free Arby's dinner by the river while Daddy fishes. While this picture was being taken, Madeline was faced with the unpleasant decision of choosing between her two favorites: eating first or fishing with her hot pink Barbie pole first.

In this sense, she is her mother's daughter because the burger won that battle.

Also, is there anything more precious than a little girl in a big hat? Only if the little girl absolutely insists on wearing said big hat everywhere. So in the case of this picture, no, there is nothing cuter or more precious.

Footnote: These pictures were from last Friday; I wanted to post these photos much earlier but was prevented by epic BlackBerry failure.

But on days like this, I feel guilty that Joe is slaving away in an office with computers, meetings and deadlines while I'm enjoying M&Ms in a friend's backyard while our kids shriek and splash. My greatest worry is that the closest Arby's location might not accept our free dinner coupons and I might be forced to cook a dinner that in no way resembles the heaven-sent curly fries I may or may not be dreaming about all day.

It's a hard-knock life for me.

On the other hand, yesterday was not one of those glorious days. Madeline and I were both rendered utterly useless by nasty colds and even though Madeline spent more daylight hours asleep than awake, I still didn't have much energy to entertain her in her cranky, sick state and thus introduced her a monster I swore I would never let her watch: Barney.

I'm hoping vast amounts of Tylenol will erase any memory of the giant purple dinosaur she loved at first sight but I won't hold my breath.

So in some ways, it really is a hard-knock life for me.