Here we go, hard and fast.
(That's what she said!)
Yes, even though Dr. Krog and I are slogging through the painful last season of Buffy the Vampire Slayer instead of replaying past seasons of The Office. So much filler, Joss! For shame!
But, yeah, not much time.
1. For the best vegan chai latte ever, microwave a mug of Silk Pure Almond, vanilla flavor, for 99 seconds. Drop in a bag of chai tea-- right now, I'm enjoying Celestial Seasonings Vanilla and Honey Chai. Let it steep for a moment. Add some local honey and a few dashes of straight cinnamon. Use your spoon to squeeze the chestnut-colored chai goodness out of the tea bag. Stir, microwave for 16 more seconds, stir, and allow your eyeballs to roll back in your head. So good.
2. 3.5 is the most bipolar age so far. We're talking Dr. Twinkie and Mr. Biscuit here. One moment, she's loving, funny, sweet, kind, generous, creative, tender. The next she's contrary, rude, difficult, sassy, jerky, and randomly spitting in someone's face for no reason.
By the way, let me give you a hint: Never spit in Dr. Krog's face, randomly or otherwise.
3. You don't believe me? Let me give you an example.
Biscuit: Mommy, I'm hungry.
me: Yes, that's why I'm working so hard to make food for you. Here's the cereal you requested, along with matching bowl and spoon.
Biscuit: (takes sullen bite) I don't want it. It doesn't taste good. This is the wrong spoon.
me: You said you wanted cereal, and you told me this morning that was your favorite spoon.
Biscuit: It just doesn't taste good. It tastes like... like... dirty ant marshmallows. And I don't like this spoon. I want some milk. And maybe some popcorn. And pizza.
me: Well, eat that cereal, and we'll talk about the next food you'd like to eat. But you asked for it, you got it, you eat it.
Biscuit: I really don't. (pushes cereal across the table)
me: Take one bite, and I'll get you a little pizza.
Biscuit: I REALLY DON'T WANT TO.
me: Okay. I'm going to the other room.
Biscuit: (takes bite) Okay, I took a bite.
me: Thank you. Let me get you a pizza.
Biscuit: I don't like pizza any more. It kinda hurts my mouth with a burn. I want a cookie. And an egg.
me: Mommy's diner is closed. Eat your cereal and we'll talk.
Biscuit: (Disappears upstairs. Comes down five minutes later wearing a bellydance hipscarf, purple slippers, and a pair of Hello Kitty underwear as a one-shoulder tank top. She picks up an orange plastic flute and walks around blowing it very loudly and banging the couches with a flip-flop.)
me: Um, are you hungry, little bellydancer?
Biscuit: Naw. And I'm a cheerleader. But I'm really scared of spiders.
4. Can I just say that the local ER is NOTHING like Scrubs or House? Seriously. No funny janitor, no tough-love doctor, no Turkleton, no boobface Cuddy, no cameo by a still youthful and cute Brendan Fraser, and absolutely no solving of the underlying problem. I'm not pleased.
5. A big shout-out to my homie (is that how you spell it? homey? holmes? whutevah.) Heidi, who's in labor. I can't wait to see who's been in there all these months!
6. Not finding out the gender from the ultrasound? I could never do that. Seriously. We had to know, and then we had to know the names, and we kept the name list up on the fridge and scratched things off and added them in and tried to come up with horrible nicknames to knock each others' choices off the Top Three.
Let's just say there's a good reason we'll never have a child named Fletcher.
7. I owe thingies in the mail to jarvenpa and bibliophiliac, and as soon as this cold leaves our house and all the various crises are quieted, I'll get right on that. You know, from the "Guess What These Nasty Black Balls Are" contest a few weeks ago.
They were undipped Chocolate Joe-Joe balls, in case you wondered, but the bit about zombie pandas totally cracked me up.
8. I've got to teach tonight, so I have to go look up pictures of masks and get myself caffeinated enough to lead 15 teens in a painting exercise. Wish me luck. And energy, especially.
9. Yes, I still need to post about our awesome roller skating adventure. I know. And maybe some photos, too, to break up all these pesky words.
10. Have to end on an even number, because I'm a weirdo. Duh.