questions

i am becoming an expert on inept analogies. It's part of motherhood, i think. And there might be a bit of a teacher aspect in there as well. But cecy gwen asks a lot of questions! And i don't like the idea of not answering or a white lie for now to put off what happens later. Sometimes i'm good at making her understand... other times not so much. Here are a few of the better ones:



◘ relating blood to milk. the question was why can't we just scoop up blood that comes out and put it back in our bodies? I asked her would she drink milk that fell on the floor (luckily she said no), and that blood was the same way. It would be dirty and no good any more.



◘believing in jesus and christmas. This one was an absolute fail. I tried to say that not everyone believes in jesus, like there are people who celebrate things other than christmas. she could not accept that, and in fact took great offense to the idea that not everyone got gifts delivered by a fat man in a red suit. And she still wanders around telling people she believes in jesus (who, for the record, is in her head a baby that is a cross between a disney character and a police man). Epic fail.



◘ chemicals released by the brain and music. Yes i somehow found a way to link them. She was asking how her eyes started drying up when she was done crying. We have had conversations about cells before, and babies, and honestly my biology is really not up to par... anyway, back to the eyes drying up. I told her that her brain tells her body that she is sad so it sends out chemicals to the body to tell it how to react. I had no idea how to explain chemicals, so i said music. So when you are sad the brain sends out sad music to your body and the sad music tells your eyes to let out water and then when you aren't sad any more the music stops and your eyes can't make the water. Seriously, i got confused trying to follow that. But at least it ended the conversation while not lying to her and not dismissing the question.

And to think i have have 13 more years of this...

traditional roles be damned!!

It may come as a surprise to some people that i am not a fantastic house keeper/cook. i know i know, most of you believe that i can do everything flawlessly but alas i must squash that heartfelt assumption. i often forget when i am cooking and therefore burn or other forms of ruining the food. And i don't have a lot of recipes under my belt so i'm often trying new ones out or experimenting and those are scary. i also believe that you must be home a certain amount of hours a day to keep a clean house and i'm not so i'm giving myself a freebie on that one. Plus i was raised not to clean on sundays so i never do, though going to the store and watching tv i now have no problem doing... funny.
So it happens the other night when david is at the house that he decides not to wait on my rush to make a disgusting dinner when i remember i'm hungry and then the inevitable bowl of cereal i will consume instead. Instead he becomes proactive and decides to make himself a dinner and asks me if i want some. This kid pulls out a marinated steak, sliced zucchini in balsamic vinegar, baked asparagus and a baked potato. It was ridiculously good. So as a way of complimenting i told him, "david! i think you are a better cook than i am!" and instead of being humbled to tears by my amazing compliment he instead says."Yeah, i've known that for a while..."
We now have a new house cook, though his humility might need some work. maybe cleaning the house will help him find that...

Facebook Style Declaration

I am a four cheese pizza. Today i was grocery shopping with david and we picked up some frozen pizza and he chose the spicy chicken combination pizza and i chose the four cheese pizza and sadly enough my first thought was wow, these choices are exactly the kind of person we are. i don't know why i insist on being so cheesy and metaphorical but i'm good at it so i'll stick with it(hmm, the amount of cheese puns i forsee in this post is disturbing, i'm asking in advance for forgiveness).

So what does it mean to be a four cheese pizza? Good question, i don't really know. But i don't see myself as someone who takes a ton of risks, and who can go wrong with cheese? i usually appeal to the majority of taste pallets, and even those who can't digest me still try. i'm fine with being the compromise that people make when they can't agree on what they really want.

So say it loud and say it proud my fellow cheese pizza lovers! i'm here to stay. Besides, apparently cheese pizza people make really cute babies, inspite of the child's doubtless cheesiness.

Public Apology

That asshole talking on the phone while driving? That was me the other day and i wanted to submit a public apology. i was talking to my sister who had just had a baby and yes i am aware that i could have had that conversation another time, but at that moment i was driving from one job to another and felt like that moment was the only free moment of my day. Yes dramatic, get used to it. Anyway, i was on Front Street and in the second lane from the right when not only did a cop start flashing its lights but the light turned red. i got over as far as i could, or as far as i thought was possible with my vision slightly compromised by the hand and arm holding the cell phone securely to my ear. It probably only lasted two seconds but it felt more like two minutes when it occured to me to turn the corner onto the next street and get out of the way. So i did, WHILE STILL TALKING ON MY PHONE. i'm sure i looked like the biggest jackass so that is why i'm submitting this apology. my actions were awkward enough that from the backseat my little three year old asked if i was hiding from the police. yikes...
So i'm trying to stop talking on the phone while i'm driving. That happened three days ago and so far i am 0 for 3 of days not talking on the phone when i drive. i would say i'm sorry again but it's useless. Driving seems to be my only time when i can talk. So to the future person that i annoy, the person i may cut off, the car i may hit without realizing it i say: oops! sorry! smile sheepishly and batt the eyelashes of the bedroom eyes that my father so generously genetically bestowed on me that have saved me on numerous occassions.