Can I just share with you the exciting life of a journalist blogger? It's way cool. But you already know that, because we tell you when we're heading off to conferences in Doha, or returning from other ones held in southern California resort hotels. You also know about all the book tour stops and speaking engagements, right? You get the picture. We're important. As for me, let's see, where to start. Well, the morning is always the best time, when I make school lunches, serve Ms. Scape her coffee, and cajole my two little boys out the door. If it's above 40 degrees and not raining, they like to (literally) jump on their scooters and give me my first adrenaline rush of the day, as I pant after them, yelling manically, "slow down!" at least 10 times during the five minutes it takes us to get to school, which is only a few blocks from our apartment. That never gets old. On the way back, I sometimes stop off at the corner Starbucks, where one barista will have my "tall" coffee ready for me before I get to the head of the line. Kinda like that show where everybody knows your name. But I do miss the other barista who used to flirt with me. That always made me feel younger than I am, especially when I would show up sweaty and panting, scooters dangling in my arms. But she's been gone a while; I think Ms. Scape had her secretly transferred to another Starbucks. What comes after the coffee varies, depending on what far flung place I'm heading off to. Some days it's to NYU, where I try to alternately entertain and educate a roomful of 20-somethings about journalism basics. Other days, I might grab lunch with an editor friend in Manhattan. One thing I don't do is spend much time on Facebook or Twitter, because I'm deathly afraid of getting sucked into a vortex of endless updates and tweets and retweets that seem vital at that second, when instead I could be catching up on last week's New Yorker. I really don't know where the day goes, until it's time for me to pick up the boys from school. Then it's homework and off to the playground where I relive the Darwinian, Lord of the Flies moments of my youth. But nothing beats playing with my boys. Today, I pretended to be a basketball hoop (hunched over with arms extended in a circle). They took turns shooting a blue dodgeball through my arms and really seemed to enjoy thumping me on the head or watching the ball roll around the imaginary rim. After that, we each scarfed down a packet of Phineas and Ferb gummy bears (Ms. scape wasn't home yet). On warmer days, we'll get Italian ices. This is followed by dinner and board games (we're on a Zingo kick), and sometimes a TV show (Phineas and Ferb or Good Luck, Charlie) or wild hilarious gyrations to their new favorite group, the Beatles. Then, it's book reading time (Captain Underpants or Phineas and Ferb) and a torturously long good night ritual. If I'm still sentient after this, I'll grade papers, think of some big thoughts for the next day's blog entry, or catch up on news. Mostly, I fall right out and dream about the really cool places all the other science bloggers are heading off to.