People talk about consistency as if it were the Holy Grail.

Early bedtimes, late ones, dessert or not, allowance or chores without pay. It matters not, but whatever you say, keep saying it.

I for one cannot maintain monotony. Early in the summer I told John I didn't need to go anywhere. So I booked flights for two kids to travel to Alaska, and another two to visit Colorado. I was sure about this.

Then over the next few weeks I heard the itineraries of friends winging to South America, and the Bahamas, the Jersey Shore and Hawaii. Suddenly I sent John a different message.

"Why aren't I going anywhere?" I whined.

"But you said you didn't want to go anywhere," he gently reminded me.

"That was then. This is now."

One time I told him I wanted to spend the mornings this summer cleaning the basement. But when he comes downstairs he finds me surrounded by fabric and pins. He is savvy enough to hold his tongue, but the look on his face registers disconnect.

I waffle between frugality and spending, contentment and disgruntlement. Why is anyone surprised by this?

Even the weather can't make up its mind.