And my grandma is 90. Enough reason to celebrate.

We’re Cajun, so what that means is a lot of liquor and spicy foods, as well as music and dancing. I cannot wait.

What are you doing for Labor Day?

PS Max starts school the day after we come back. This year ’round school takes some getting used to!

The other day, two were in our house! I think they chased one another in and then didn’t know how to get out. I felt so bad–you could see them panicking as they tried to poke the ceiling with their beaks. One was so exhausted, he clawed a resting place on the wall about 8 feet up.

Finally, one found the feeder we placed in the door. The other I helped out on the end of a broom. They’re happy outside once again.

They’re just fascinating birds to me. So delicate and graceful. Here are some interesting facts I found:

• Hummingbirds’ wings beat 60-80 times a second!
• A hummingbird can’t smell
• A hummingbird’s heart rate can be up to 1,260 beats per minute

Here’s a cool video slowed down to show the hummingbird drinking. It’s long and slow. You can fast forward. I did. Still, it’s neat!

I feel like this is a lame post. Is it a lame post?

What is it about the beach? I turn into a child, running away from waves with my son, collecting shells with no idea what I’ll do with them.

We’re on a week’s vacation in Rosarito, Mexico, a sleepy, dirty little border town just 30 minutes from our home in San Diego. We found an amazing deal on a 2 bedroom condo ($350 for a week; if you’re interested I’m happy to give you the owner’s contact info). The condo is wonderful; the neighborhood, well, it’s authentic.

Dirt, bumpy roads, stray dogs who watch your approach from the top of abandoned buildings.  People washing their Sunday laundry in a bucket.  Trash.

Despite my initial surprise at the neighborhood (4 stars it ain’t), I love it. Every day we walk to the beach, where we build sandcastles, fly our kite, and stretch out under the Mexican sun. The beach is virtually empty, the weather being a bit cool for the average beach bum (about 70 degrees this week). I don’t miss the crowds.

Although I’ve promised myself I will learn to surf now that I’m in San Diego, I am constantly surprised how freaking cold the water is in the Pacific. Having lived in Florida for years (and never swimming in the water), it is beyond me how anyone would get in this frigid water to surf or swim.

Here, in Mexico, I dip my toes in the ocean, willing myself to brave the waters. Yesterday I did hop on the boogie board and rode a wave in. Exhilarating, but cold. Very cold.

And Max? He’s thriving in his new role as beach bum. Where he used to be timid with the ocean, he now runs up to the waves and splashes like any other kid. He loves making sand castles (what kid doesn’t?). Papa has been helping him, lending his engineering skills and experience growing up as a kid near the beaches of Gulfport. It’s a family affair.

How will we go back to dry land after this?

We’ve been to the beach with friends. We splashed and tried to catch baby crabs with squid (some of us more successful than others). We’ve watched our kids do cute dances at Balboa Park. We’ve watched Tahitian and Flamenco dancers. We’ve bonded while our kids grew up in front of us.

Friends are wonderful.

(If you’re not a friend or family you might get bored. There are about 50 photos here. But knock yourself out and watch them anyway. All the kids are damn cute).

My yoga instructor talked about guilt the other day. Interestingly, she attributed it to the Western world. I don’t know if they don’t have guilt in other countries, but she was right; we put ourselves through a lot of guilt for no reason.

I thought it would be fun to share our Guilt Lists and then (virtually) tear them up. Here’s mine.

• Guilt about not writing enough on all my blogs
• Guilt about not going to yoga as often as I like
• Guilt about gaining a few pounds
• Guilt about being impatient with Max
• Guilt about drinking too much
• Guilt about not being the kind of parent who volunteers at school
• Guilt about not dusting
• Guilt about not scrubbing the tub
• Guilt about not taking Max to play outside often enough

Looking at this list I see that none of it is earth-shattering. I think we as women experience more guilt than men. What do you think? And for what? It’s just another stressor in our lives.

So here and now I’m making a proclamation that we will deliberately work harder to NOT feel so guilty. The dishes can wait. We won’t blow up if we don’t exercise all week (or month). That hamburger will not go straight to our thighs.

Life is meant to be enjoyed. Let’s start doing that.

When did we stop believing? I remember when I filled my bed with stuffed animals and had conversations with them until I fell asleep. When I fully believed the tooth fairy left me a dollar for the hollow bloody tooth I left under my pillow. When the world was full of possibilities, and magic was around every corner?

What happened? I believed as a child I’d still believe in magic when I grew up. At one point did I/you/we stop believing in it all?

I remember the day I learned about Santa. My friend (if you can call her that) Courtney just blurted it out in first grade. First grade! Far too young to discover that the world had been stripped of magic. I felt dismayed and disappointed. I wished the magic would last a little longer.

I knew a girl who believed in Santa til 6th grade (or so she said). For Max, I want something between these two scenarios. I want the possibility of magic to live on for him as long as possible. I want him to believe.

So this time, we were able to do all the fun stuff in town. In fact, I don’t know what we didn’t do! We visited Old Town, which is a great historic area for shopping. We took a harbor tour (I got bored after the first hour). We visited the Farmer’s Market in Little Italy (see photos below). While I was in Round Rock, Mom took a trolley around town and shopped at Seaport Village.

A good time was had by all. Max was sad when she left (didn’t help that Papa had to leave the day before for work travel), and the house is quiet now. The coffee doesn’t mysteriously get made on its own, nor do the towels get folded (not the way we fold, but hey, it beats leaving them in the dryer for 3 days).

Mom, thank you for coming and putting up with your temperamental virtually teenage daughter. I love you.

So I’m traveling to Austin (Round Rock, to be exact) to be on a day-long Consumer Advisory Panel for Dell. They chose 30 people (bloggers, social medialites and otherwise loudmouth influential consumers) to have an all-expenses paid trip to talk to them about their brand.

It’s genius. But you can read about why this is an awesome marketing idea on my other blog, The Marketing Eggspert.

It doesn’t take much to make people feel special. Just by singling me out, Dell did so. Actually, I was curious what path led them to me. I used to blog on their Small Business Blog, but I also kicked up a dust storm when my mom wasn’t able to get a monitor she was told she would receive. It all worked out, as I tweeted out the problem and Dell responded quickly. My contact said it was both that helped them choose me as one of the 30.

At any rate, I’m looking forward to having my voice heard at the panel, and learning about their products. I’ve never had the inside peek at a brand, though many bloggers do get invited to events like this for other brands.

I’ll try to update you during the event.  Not looking forward to moving from 75 degrees in San Diego to 90 in Austin!

I notice how travelers deliberately avert their eyes from others as they lift up their shirts to put their belts on, revealing untanned, pudgy bellies. We overlook the underwear sticking out the back of another traveler’s pants as she puts her shoes on and keeps her toddler from running away. It’s a matter of respect and necessity in today’s travel era.

I like to think of all these people, rendered powerless simply by the removal of a few articles of clothing, in a board room or conducting business. It’s funny, really, to imagine someone completely out of their professional persona.

…

What seat do you choose when traveling? Despite having the tiniest bladder in the world, knowing I’ll have to squeeze past my fellow seat sharers, I always choose the window seat. I’m still like a kid, peering down through the clouds at the landscapes below. Now living in Southern California, I delight in the ever-changing brown and red mountains that melt into dry ravines, then farmland.

I read a lot while flying, but on takeoff and landing, I look out the window. When I travel with Max, I have to bite my tongue and let him have the window seat. He’s got his whole life to marvel at the view.

…

Continental serves cereal on their flights. Even for the plebes in coach. Neat.

Sometimes I forget how weird my life is compared to the average person.

• The second I take photos, I instantly upload them to Facebook and Flickr so complete strangers can see them.
• When I have a bad experience, I don’t call a friend. I blog it.
• I get excited about meeting other people who share their lives online.
• I get the itch to Tweet something even when I can’t.
• I have really good friends through Twitter who I’ve never met.
• I have no qualms about posting my kid’s photo on Facebook.
• It doesn’t occur to me that others might not feel the same!
• My life over the past few years is documented on this and my other blogs.

Blogging means sharing your life with complete strangers, both the good and the bad (I won’t link on that one). It’s a weird feeling, being so completely open, but it’s been good for me. It helps me not hide behind something and bury it, as I’ve been prone to do. It is also really great to come here and share good news and get comments from my loyal readers congratulating me. It means the (virtual) world to me.