Sunday, July 15, 2007

Book Quiz

I'm not sure I agree with it, but I did like the book.

You're The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy!

by Douglas Adams

Considered by many to be one of the funniest people around, you are
quite an entertainer. You've also traveled to the far reaches of what you deem possible,
often confused and unsure of yourself. Life continues to jostle you around like a marble,
but it's shown you so much of the world that you don't care. Wacky adventures continue to
lie ahead. Your favorite number is 42.

Take the Book Quiz
at the Blue Pyramid.

Friday, July 13, 2007

My one and only

People keep asking me when I'm going to have another baby. I smile politely and tell them I don't plan on having any more at this time, and they look at me like I've sprouted a horn. Why is everyone so interested in my reproductive plans, or the lack thereof? I'm already a single mother, does anyone seriously think that this would be a good time for me to even contemplate having a child? (And yes, most of the people doing the asking are well aware that I'm divorced.) And why do so many people think being an only child is somehow an impediment? I grew up an only child (I say "grew up" because I was adopted, and it turns out I have half-siblings, but to my parents, I was an only child). I turned out OK, I think. I've actually had people say to me, "Gee, you don't act like an only child, I never would have guessed." ??? What exactly are only children supposed to act like, and why do so many people seem to think I'm dooming J to some substandard life by not having a sibling for him to torment...I mean, play with?

I know Brian would like to have a child, and should we be married, I'm willing to try (although I'm not getting any younger!). Not sure what lengths I'd be willing to go to if it didn't happen naturally, and I've told him it might not, because we had to have help to get J here. But if I never have another child, I won't be crushed. I won't feel like my life is any less full because I'm the mother of one rather than the mother of more. I never envisioned myself as having a whole passel of kids, anyway. There were days I didn't think I'd even ever get married, much less have kids, and there are days now where I'm so close to the end of my rope that I wonder if God *really* knew what He was doing when He blessed me with J. (And yes, he is a blessing, even if there are days he makes me want to bang my head into a wall!) So I'm perfectly happy with one. How is anyone else qualified to question that decision? Most days I'm OK with it, but today it bugs me. I'm in a mood, and being asked that gets a bit old.

We had a baby shower for a co-worker this afternoon. She's having a little girl, so she got tons of cute pastel pink and ruffly stuff, and a tiny part of me thought, wow, if I had a little girl, I could get all that pink ruffly stuff. And the bigger part of me though, what are you, nuts? J can walk and talk and carry on a conversation and tell you what's going on and sleeps all night most nights (even if bedtime isn't necessarily early or easy) and he's potty trained and you're done with bottles and diapers and up every three hours - would you really go back to that?

Only if God has a sense of humor and life works out just right.

Thursday Thirteen #10

So I'm a day late. It happens.

Thirteen Things I Can Do While My Son Is With His Father

1. Eat my dinner while it's still hot.
2. Get all the laundry folded and put away as soon as it comes out of the dryer.
3. Clear a path through the toys on the living room floor.
4. Read my own books before bedtime.
5. Watch something on TV that isn't animated and that doesn't involve space aliens or shoot guns.
6. Get to work on time, without a little boy whining that he doesn't *want* to go to school.
7. Take a shower without interruption.
8. Take a bubble bath without clearing a vat of toys out of the tub first. (K bought a 74-piece of foam letters and numbers and cars and whatnot that are made for playing in the bath. Next time he does that, I'm going to hit him with a wet noodle, once for every piece in the set. Better yet, next time he does that, the 74-piece monstrosity can stay at *his* house.)
9. Get a night's sleep uninterrupted by a little boy coming and crawling into bed with me (and stepping on my stomach in the process).
10. Sleep in past daybreak on Saturday.
11. Clean out my car and keep it clean for a few days.
12. Do anything on the computer *other than* Jump Start or Ben 10.
13. Enjoy the silence - and then realize how very quiet my house is without my son, and miss him and wish for the week to be over already.

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Tuesday, July 10, 2007


My birthday present from Brian:

It's a ring, although not one involving diamonds. It's a promise ring. When we're in the same place (because we will be, oh yes, we will), it will be replaced by a different one. :-)

I had a really nice birthday. I never did write about it, so here goes.

But we went to the Queen of Sheba, an Ethiopian restaurant in Dallas, for dinner. It was good. We had the Queen's Dinner, where they just bring you a little of everything. First they had the handwashing ceremony - they brought out a big bowl with lemon slices in it, and we used the lemon slices like soap. Then they poured warm water over our hands to rinse off the lemony bits and dried them. It was nice, and I'd never thought to do that with lemon slices. I don't know if I can remember everything we ate, but I'll try. Our appetizer was a cold salad, lentils with tomato and jalapeno. It was SPICY, but very good. Then they brought out a big platter with little bits of all kinds of stuff - spicy lentils, spicy lamb, mild lamb, cabbage and potatoes, sauteed mushrooms, different kinds of chicken (so tender it just fell off the bone), beef and greens, and their version of steak tartare with fresh-made cheese. I did try the steak tartare - it didn't taste like raw meat, and it wasn't bad, but it wasn't my thing. The cheese was good - almost tart, and like feta in texture. Some things were cooked with a tomato-type sauce, some with a mustard sauce, and I can't even begin to identify all the spices they used.

The interesting thing was, you ate everything with your fingers! They brought out a plate with rolls of a thin, spongy bread called injera - you unrolled the bread, broke a piece off, and used it to pick up your food. After a while, it got tedious, and Brian and I were both wishing for silverware. LOL I had a glass of honey mead with my meal, and that was one gooooooood wine. I told Brian it wasn't something to drink on an empty stomach, because it was sweet and smooth, and something I could easily drink too much of without even realizing it. We had dessert - baklava and a fruit compote with the honey wine poured over it - and we ate until we were just about stupid. I had a tiny cup of Ethiopian coffee with it - black as night, and STRONG. It had an interesting flavor of spice to it - cinnamon, maybe, or cardamom? It was good, although not something I'd want to drink every day (I sure could have used it when J was at the height of his not-sleeping phase, though).

And THEN they brought out birthday cake and sang Happy Birthday! It was a very low-key rendition - no clapping and cheering and standing on chairs. I really enjoyed it. We were stuffed like Christmas geese afterward, and we STILL had birthday cake at the house!

So, happy birthday to me! I do believe my ring was the best present ever, although I must admit to hoping another one can take its place before too much longer.