So far today I have: Forgotten to dole out allergy medications and vitamins at breakfast, been called to come bring something in to school on a day when it would make me very happy to never leave the house, managed to be in the shower when people came to the house needing me, become convinced that I somehow managed to get myself hired for a project that will never ever end (Everybody sing: "This is the job that never ends, never ends, never ends!") and eaten everything in sight that I'm allowed to have on this new elimination diet I'm trying to get my skin and my mood and my life back on...
There are many ways in which Otto and I are similar, and other ways in which we are completely different. And then some ways in which we are each changing, due to the influence of the other. Example the first: Otto used to believe a meal is not a meal unless it includes large hunks of meat or potatoes (preferably both). Thanks to living with us, he now understands that it is, in fact, possible to have a really nice meal that features other foods. Example the second: I used to believe that the purpose of riding in a car was to GET somewhere. Thanks to Otto's influence, I now understand that...
It feels like we've been laying low, the last few days. Sure, we're doing our regular things---school, work, shuffling the kids to and fro---but it all feels kind of... muted. Every morning I check the news; the perpetrator of last weekend's tragedy is still at large, and swine flu is still scaring the crap out of everyone. [Though you sort of have to love today's BIG STORY on CNN about "patient zero" in the epidemic, which includes this: "Five-year-old Edgar Hernandez credits ice cream for helping him feel better." Awesome reporting, CNN! Getting the world the information they need, right...
On Saturday, Otto needed to be on campus all day for a workshop, so the kids and I were left to fend for ourselves. No matter---we slept late, lolled around in our jammies, and about three hours later than we normally have breakfast, I made the kids some French toast out of homemade bread. ["Mom, this is the best French toast in the history of French toast," Monkey said, mouth crammed full and syrup dribbling from the corner of his lips. I know he's a suck-up, but it's still nice to hear.] After, I did the dishes while the kids played on the computer. I suggested we think about going on a...
It's become something of a joke with me that if I'm feeling particularly overwhelmed by life or work or some combination thereof, you'll find me in the kitchen covered in flour. I have always loved to cook; it's only in the last few years that I've really embraced baking. And only in the last year that I've learned about the Miracle of Bread. Owing to a few particularly traumatic pie crust experiences in my younger days, somehow I had assumed that anything more complicated than cookies or muffins would be beyond my abilities. But then, one day, well... there was beer cheese bread. And oh my...
Every now and then I write a difficult post about Deep Thoughts that really resonates with folks, and that's terribly gratifying, and I feel all warm and fuzzy and embrace the whole community aspect of blogging and feel like we're all in this life thing together. I open up, and you welcome me with open arms, and I realize that sharing thoughts and feelings is GOOD and TRUE and NICE. And then other times, I write about a room full of women and sex toys, and suddenly that's the most-visited post I've ever written and I realize that actually no one really cares about my deep thoughts nearly as...
I've been thinking a lot, the last couple of weeks, about histories and futures and---most of all---the gift of the present. I still struggle every day with appreciating that last one as much as I ought to, which is pretty ironic given that I'm not not one to cling to history, either, and oftentimes thinking about the future causes me to have palpitations. I don't like unknowns. I like knowing what IS and what WILL BE and learning from what WAS and then moving on. You know, to the safety of what IS. Heh. Though it can be hard to fully EXPERIENCE what is when one is busy INVENTORYING it. Not...
Boy, it's too bad none of you had any opinions about my wedding dress. (Wait, is this a TOMATO someone threw at my head, there? C'mon, now. That would've been lovely on your salad, come lunchtime.) I have to tell you that I was ready to rid myself of the wedding dress without a backwards glance; I was just unsure of the best avenue for doing do. But after 80-odd comments exhorting me to THINK OF THE CHILDREN (specifically, to think of how my daughter might consider such a thing), I made a terrible mistake. I asked Chickadee about it. And she begged me to keep the dress. OF COURSE. I mean, I...
The point will come when I stop showing you blurry pictures of little green bits and going on and on about how excited I am that things in my garden are growing. I'm pretty sure it will, anyway. But it's not here yet. Especially because I went out the other morning and suddenly! There was a whole bunch more STUFF! Out of NOWHERE! Like MAGIC! And I feel the need to share, because this way we'll have a nice backdrop upon which to consider the subsequent bitching sure to come when I have beans coming out my ears and a freezer full of shredded zucchini, yes? And also because I'm feeling more...
