We took Hannah to the airport yesterday, a week early, but she was homesick. It was just me and all the kids, and we had to go through all the security. I got a lot of sympathetic looks and comments from people thinking I was travelling alone with five kids. We were way too early, so there was a lot of waiting around at the gate. One woman came and sat down by us and commented at how unbelievably well-behaved my children were. If she'd sat down five minutes earlier, she would have seen Grace putting on an interpretive-dance performance, followed by an explosive fart, inducing Olivia to crawl accross the floor on hands and knees and sniff Grace's butt. That's how we roll. We're klassy.

Joel Mchale, from E!'s The Soup, was also waiting for the plane with his family. They were sitting right next to us, but I didn't say anything, because I'm much cooler than that. Unlike my husband, who was so starstruck when the guy who played Frodo in The Lord of the Rings was in line with him at the airport, that he forgot how old Jack was when he got the guy to give him an autograph, "um, it's for my son, yeah. He's 9! I mean, 10! What? Oh, his name is Mitch, I mean Jack."

When we got home, I looked at my big pile of ripe peaches and baked a giant pie. Mitch brought home some vanilla ice cream, and we just decided to have pie and ice cream for dinner. I guess we should have had vegetables for dessert, but we just had more pie.