A well-shaped brow can make even the most frazzled mommy feel utterly put together.

Yesterday I got the best eyebrow treatment ever while kicking back with Laurel at Baby Loves Disco. Arwen of The Salon at 10 Newbury brings her acclaimed eyebrow shaping prowess (she has been lauded by InStyle, Allure, and Boston Magazine) to this hottest ticket in town. (She is providing her services to BLD gratis so please tip kindly.) In the past I have asked other aestheticians to give my brows a slimmer, more arched shape and they all claimed it wouldn’t work. I thus didn’t bother making any specific requests, but Arwen shaped my brows exactly as I had always envisioned. I feel like a new woman.

It may prove tough to see Arwen at Baby Loves Disco if you don’t already have tickets (new dates into the summer already are sold out), so book an appointment with her on Newbury. You deserve it.

The Salon at 10 Newbury, 10 Newbury Street, Boston; Tel: 617-247-4900

Editor’s Note: This just in from our new friends at The Salon at 10 Newbury. Mention BostonMamas.com and receive a facial, eyebrow waxing, and blow dry for $125 (regularly valued at $160).

It's occurring to me I will NEVER get those vacation photos posted because tomorrow I am going on a business trip for a few days, and after that I will be spending the next two weeks convincing the little angel I'm really not leaving again until I leave again to go to BlogHer Business near the end of March.  SO.  On the off chance I really do post photos tonight instead of frantically packing and fast-forwarding through the DVR-ed Oscars, I'll just illustrate my story then.

SO.  Vacation stories.  Let's see.   First day: Acclimation.  We got to Denver around 10:30, took the shuttle (I highly advise the shuttle, and I'll explain why in a minute) to Breckenridge, got off the shuttle and WENT IMMEDIATELY TO THE BAR.  This is how you acclimate.  Drink equal amounts of water and alcohol immediately.  You'll still get a pleasant buzz, but you won't get so dehydrated.

And for those of you who won't drink alcohol immediately when you go on a child-free vacation, go read someone else's blog, because I don't know how to relate to you.

Tuesday we decided to actually, you know, ski.  I learned to ski just about eight years ago, as an adult, and I have never been an ambitious skier.  I'm scared of hurting myself.  I have bad balance.  I had high anxiety for the first three trips, even though I steadily advanced from bunny to green to blue.  This was actually the first year I felt confident and loose going down the harder blues. I credit the change to a few things: 

1. My iPod Shuffle.  For some reason, it's hard to be so tense about killing yourself skiing while listening to Eminem or Laura Branigan.
2. Pilates.  It really does affect your balance, especially the strength in those core-y areas so necessary to correct oneself from overbalancing.
3. Shame. I'm sick of being scared of skiing.  I never get to go on vacation, and I was just determined to enjoy it.  Also, I was trying to impress my beloved.

Skiing was good. The first day was a little crusty, the second day it started to snow about 2 and kept on snowing until the minute we left a day and a half later.  We woke up at 9, we went skiing until 2ish, then we drank, sat in an outdoor jacuzzi with snow falling on our heads, took naps, listened to bands, ate good food and did other things adults who are vacationing without children do.  It was a good time, and I don't care if the little angel is mad about it - I'm glad we went. We needed to go.  We needed to have that time together to have fun like the irresponsible kids we were when we met at 25.  We got engaged in Steamboat, and skiing has always been about frivolity for us. 

Interestingly, the first time we went skiing post-angel, she was eight months old.  We were overwhelmed still, and I think I was actually suffering from a little depression. We decided on that trip not to have any more children, so we could get our lives back to normal.  We couldn't stand the chaos.  This time, exactly two years later, we feel back in control of our lives, and we spend about a half hour of the vacation agreeing on boy names and girl names for the second child we may now have.  If anything, looking at one ski trip to the next has reinforced for me how quickly circumstances can change, and how hard times truly do pass eventually. 

Oh, and yes, I did win the Whale's Tail hula hoop contest on the night before we left.  There were a lot of incredibly drunk people in the bar, which improved my odds.  The singer/comedian kept calling everyone Little Miss This or Little Miss That. I was Little Miss Kansas City.  When I won, I got to take a lap around the bar carrying a plastic liberty torch and an American flag, and I was gifted some Mardi Gras beads, which I gave to the little angel upon my return. I told her I won the hula hoop contest, and she said, "What's a hula hoop? Can I have one?"

Child of the media, she is.

The only bad part was that little period of seven hours during which I-70 was closed while the state patrol dynamited the mountains so we wouldn't be covered by an avalanche and die, and during which we missed our flight back to Kansas City.  We did find (after five hours of listening to the extremely verbose driver) that the CME drivers have to pass ridiculous driving tests, including tests with the state patrol in which a 600-pound sled is shifted back and forth in the back of the van to induce intentional skids. FUN. But I did feel much safer than say, if my beloved had been driving in inclement weather at a 45-degree angle.  Just saying.

The only backlash has been the sleeping and the daycare drop-offs, both of which I'm happy to say are improving.  After a bad sleeping situation on Friday and Saturday nights, we told her last night that she couldn't go to her friend M's birthday party at McDonald's tonight unless she slept all night. Even though it took an hour and a half to get her to sleep, once she fell asleep she slept until 5:45, which I considered a victory. I gave her some bubble gum (drat her teacher for telling her what it is), which she promptly swallowed (Mommy! I ate it all up!), a Backyardigans puffy sticker and told her we could go to M's party.  She still threw a bit of a fit when I left her at The Emerald City, but I think the appearance of M with birthday cupcakes quelled the fury of the spurned redhead. There really isn't much in a two-year-old's world that cupcakes can't fix, after all.

One challenge of passing the initial solid food dabbling phase (where its more about exposure than quantitative intake) is how to provide a variety of nutrients to accommodate tapering off of breast milk or formula, while dealing with your baby’s limited interest windows and tummy size.

Plum Organics offers an excellent solution for busy parents. In addition to their Real Smooth starter fruit and veggie purees (for babies 6 months and up), their More Texture collection (for babies 9 months and up) includes all-in-one meals well balanced to cover the basic food groups. Thoughtfully composed options such as the Chicken Whole Grain Pasta (organic chicken, carrots, peas, and whole grain pasta) and Red Lentil Veggie (organic potatoes, carrots, corn, and red lentils) pack a nutritional punch; sweet finishes include the Banana Peach Rice Pudding and Pears & Apples. Available in the freezer section of local retailers nationwide; from $2.89 to $3.49.

Dear Readers: In order to improve usability, we have started overhauling the category archive links to the left. Now nearly 400 entries (!) into this journey we feel we can better streamline and organize our “table of contents” so it’s easier for you to find what you’re looking for.

Please be patient while categories are moved or renamed and entries are updated to fit the new organization, particularly if you have bookmarked any archive pages. We will post another notice when the process is done.

By the way, I read this book and loved it.

I’m all for testing the waters at eateries that don’t necessarily promote themselves as kid friendly, but the truth is, kid friendly establishments just make life that much easier.

Jon and I first learned about Sweet Sue’s when it was an out-of-home operation selling baked goods at the Government Center farmer’s market. Last spring, Sweet Sue’s opened a bakery café in Arlington, where the vibe is cozy and warm (either due to the sunny space or the walk about coffee refills), decidedly family friendly (a kids table and toys are available, as is a real standing changing table in the bathroom), and brimming with treats. During the weekdays Sweet Sue’s serves breakfast and lunch; on Saturday they serve brunch. They also offer catering services.

Sweet Sue’s, 795 Mass. Ave., Arlington; Tel: 781-646-1118

The little angel was fine, FINE when my beloved dropped her off at The Emerald City yesterday.  SHE WAS FINE.  "Goodbye, Daddy!" she chirped.  "Give me my kiss first!  One kiss only!"

Based on her success yesterday, I decided to try again, after the horrible experience on Wednesday morning when I stayed there for 45 minutes, watching her grow increasingly snot-covered and agitated, clinging to me with her little body and howling, "NO, MOMMY, DON'T LEAVE!! DON'T LEAVE!!!"  After I finally ripped her death grip from my neck, set her down and walked out the door, she wailed with the pain of a dying animal and threw her body against the door, screaming, "I WANT MY MOOOOMMMMYYY!!"

And of course, I squatted outside the door below the window so she couldn't see me and cried all my mascara off for twenty minutes until the crying subsided a bit.

I called later to hear that she had blown herself out and was resting quietly, as though she'd in fact had a full-scale nervous breakdown. 

BUT, as I am a glutton for punishment, I thought that since my beloved had a completely different experience yesterday that maybe, MAYBE I could pull it off this morning.

I was so wrong.

My friend K. found me again hunched under the glass outside the door, rocking in the fetal position and listening to the howls and thuds of her 32 pounds of red-haired fury hitting the door.   I begged her to come back out after dropping off J. and tell me how the little angel was doing.  By the time she came back out, the little angel was in her old teacher Miss L's arms and sucking her Nuby cup like it contained fine scotch.

I don't know why me. K's theory is that she knows it bothers me more than it does my beloved.  Of course, it's probably just that she really does love me best.  Or because I have ovaries.  Or because she knows that I cried so hard after Grey's Anatomy last night that my sister actually asked me if I was pregnant.  The little angel woke up at 4 a.m. after two nights of sleeping all the way through and begged to be taken to the couch. While I was cuddling with her, I had a dream that I went back to college and lost her in a fraternity house, then after searching for hours I opened a door and found her, terrified and covered in her own vomit.  I think the guilt thing combined with the recent illness are totally doing a number on me.

GAH. I'm so glad it's Friday.

The parenting journey thus far has made it clear that little people have passions. Laurel and her friends have long shown fierce devotion to certain areas of play and expression, whether it is art or song or books or trains.

Now you can express your child’s passion via YoonKids, a collection of hip, customized wall art suitable for babies to tweens. YoonKids allow for the ultimate expression of kids’ passions and diversity; choose a themed kid (e.g., girl drummer), background color, hair and skin color (hooray!), and canvas size. YoonKids currently are available in girl designs; the boy line is forthcoming. Other collections include the Yoonies, an endearing series of chubby, wobbly critters (pick a character, background color, and size), and the Silhouettes line, which features classic imagery - such as the gorgeous, vibrant Bird Tree (shown) - styled with modern graphics in cool color palettes.
Each piece is custom made through a giclée printing process; water-resistant canvas is stretched over sturdy frames and finished with an ecologically friendly coating that protects against sun and water damage. Two sizes are available (9"x12" for $85, 18"x18" for $150), and you can add a name and birth date to your artwork for an additional $10 each.

According to Wikipedia (which is totally updated by whoever, but it did seem to know first that Anna Nicole Smith had died), the phrase "shooting the messenger" originated with Sophocles in Antigone.  Of course, from "Antingone" we also get "antagonize," which is another thing I am sometimes good at.

So anyway, I was having a bit of a tiff with Ma and Pa this week over some hurt feelings and misunderstandings when Blondie threw herself into the fray.  Now, I did ask her to spare herself, but when she did, with the best of intentions, soldier on, I threw her under the bus.  I shot the messenger.

And now I feel sort of bad.

Why is it that no matter how old you get, you always act like an imbecile with your own family?  WHY WHY WHY?

Anyway.  I did get the photo disk back from vacation. I am inexplicably red-faced, but my beloved does not look like he became a giant marshmellow, which is often how he looks at high altitudes.  He is still hot.  I look horrible. But my vanity will not stop me from showing you the photo taken shortly after I won the hula-hoop contest at the Whale's Tail.  Photos coming soon.

Carry on.