I am sitting in a room with two children and one "Beverly Hills Chihuahua" DVD and all I can think of is "No mas!"

I mean it. No more!

When talking Chihuahuas complaining about being pampered and dressed seem more reasonable than my 5-year-old's fury, we've hit drama overload. When my 12-year-old sets his alarm to wake up at 1:15 a.m. on a school night and thinks he's the one who has the right to be angry I'm awake, I'm right there with the Chihuahuas: "No mas!"

When you're a mom with two young children, a little external drama keeps things interesting, but at home, I'd really rather get lost in a televised drama than be learning life lessons from Disney Chihuahuas, who don't want to wear clothes or be treated as fashion accessories. My 5-year-old doesn't seem to have learned any of this, judging from her growing collection of stuffed animals peeking out of purses and the costume jewelry she puts on them.

I'm trying to ignore the movie so I can write a column in defense of Air Supply (see the Family Matters column on this page) and realize I feel the constant shouting from the outraged dogs blaring from the speakers has me all out of love for Chihuahuas and feeling the same way about their propaganda that Michael DeMattos has about Air Supply songs. "No mas!"

I can't shake the chanting, even though their cause doesn't interest me much. I can't feel too sorry for a dog being toted around in a designer bag when I'm constantly lugging my own baggage around, otherwise known as my two children.

Baggage can have such a negative connotation, so let me be clear: I don't have too much baggage. I have the perfect balance — one piece for each hand. Sure, the maneuvering gets tricky and the seams burst apart with alarming regularity, but I find it's worth my while to patch them up because they hold many of the things I treasure most.

Just the two, though. No mas. Not even a little puppy to carry in my purse.