Catching Up with the Naughty Monkey

I've been behind in my blog reading since the Thanksgiving trip to Texas to visit my family. My parents don't have Wifi, and I try to keep up with just shy of a zillion blogs - like you care. And like I need an excuse because let's face it, I'm always behind for some reason. But that's why I just read this post over at Emily Nagoski's Sex Nerd blog (yes, "sex nerd", and it's totally worth your time to poke about a bit in her blog because it's ah-mazing) about treating the body part of your not-really-two-separate-entities-but-just-go-with-it mind/body like it's your pet monkey.

I think I'll call mine George.

Do I really need to tell you that I spent the rest of the evening scolding my naughty little monkey (inside my head) and cracking myself up so much that my husband asked me what I was laughing at? I just let him think I was crazy, as usual, because even I realized that if I told him this, he would think I wiped out the wine fridge. Which is why I'm sharing it with you.

Then I remembered that my mind can also act like a monkey, a concept I was introduced to while reading this book during a writing workshop way back in my early college days. During which, I might add, I showed some promise as a writer. Explaining why I then promptly gave up writing. Turns out my monkeys would rather throw poo.

Which all leads to the obvious question - if the body can be a monkey and the mind can be a monkey, then who the frack* is in charge around here?

* Yes, I have been watching Battlestar Galactica, obsessively. Yes, I am late to the party. Yes, it still rocks.

The One Where I Might Become A Grown Up

So get this - I helped with Thanksgiving dinner this year. No, really! I made the coconut cream pie filling (and not just the pudding-in-a-box kind), I peeled and sliced sweet and regular potatoes, I stirred and whipped and put in and pulled out every single thing that needed a stint in the oven. It sure beat my contribution last year. Which I thought I blogged about. But apparently didn't. Let's just say I was inordinately proud of myself for not killing someone when I got yelled at for putting the ice in the cups the wrong way. Yes, I said, "Ice. Cups. WRONG." That's the price one pays for having a smarty-pants daughter who's too big for her britches - a 38 year old woman who didn't even know there was a right way to put ice in the cups.

Apparently I've gotten a bit more useful in the past year.

Of course it's only because my mom has a frozen shoulder and is in lots of pain and was therefore physically unable to do the work I was assigned to. And I'm pretty sure I wasn't her first choice for pinch hitter. But she was forced to work with what she had because there was no one else. Which kind of makes this like getting 1st place in some school contest because no one else signed up to compete.

If you think that makes this step into adulthood feel like a hollow victory... you're wrong. It still feels awesome!

Got a text from a friend yesterday morning asking if I wanted to have lunch while Cha Cha was at preschool. We met an adorable Moroccan restaurant, and OMGHAVEIMENTIONEDHOWMUCHILOVELIVINGHERE!

Holy crappola. At this rate I might start blogging about rainbows and unicorns.

Something New Sunday

I like how that sounds! It sort of implies that I usually post in some consistent way. Which we all know isn't true.

I just wanted to give you all a peek into what caught my eye this week on the Internet. Wait, wait! Don't leave yet! I promise not to share the really weird stuff...

I know everyone has probably already seen this video, but since I watched it multiple times, I decided you might like to watch it again too. (Originally found via Susannah Conway)

If you love a good makeover as much as I do, be sure to dig through all the gorgeous ones on Lindsey's blog, Better After. My favorites from this week are both dressers - a painted one with peek-a-boo wood grain and one for a comic book fiend.

Why does everyone look at me after reading this? (Originally found via Atypical Type A)

Angry Birds, irl - and if you know what those things are, you'll probably love just about everything on Geek Crafts.

This post about homemade chocolate-coconut peanut butter is a few weeks old (I'm behind in my reading. Like that's a surprise.), but I couldn't resist sharing it. I've already started having fantasies about this stuff.

I'm taking the dogs to the kennel as soon as I'm done here, and then it's a whole lotta hurry up and wait until we pack up the family to head to the airport for our red-eye flight to Texas. I hope everyone has a great holiday! Maybe if you're lucky, you'll see me back here before Christmas...

Cold Feet and Snotty Noses

Things on my mind today...

Is 38 and raining too cold for clogs with no socks?

Will I fail to put on socks anyway?

Am I in denial?

How much snot can one human produce?

Is "busy blowing my nose" a legitimate excuse for why the floor is a few inches deep in toys?

What if the time I wasn't blowing my nose was spent coughing up loogies?

I'm actually pretty impressed that we're having "real" rain today. Before now I've laughed when anyone here said it was raining. If you can stand outside for an hour and still be barely wet, it's not rain. Today feels perfect for curling up with a good book and a hot drink. Too bad I can't lock the boys outside so I can enjoy that scene!

Cha-Cha and I have both been struggling with our first Oregon illnesses. It feels like a sort of rite of passage. I admit I had a completely irrational hope that we would somehow be immune to Oregon germs. My denial knows no bounds.

Preschool Sent Me On A Bender

First, an apology to any readers who, like me, are completely annoyed by my inability to stick with a single font. Posting from my iPad means more posts but less options. I'm working on it. Well, OK, I'm thinking about it which is kinda like working on it. And that's as good as it gets around here...

Oy, it's depressing to read my last few posts. I did stop chewing my cuticles, and I've even been eating better (a move further prompted by the DMV lady asking me when the next baby was due because apparently the DMV isn't bad enough), but I've just found new ways to distract myself.

I've been on a sudoku bender. It's a sweet, horrible shame to be so geeky.

Cha-Cha went to his 1st day of preschool last Monday. It's actually an after-care program for a local preschool so it's all playing and crafting (no academics) but the child is just super excited to get to do anything different than hanging out at home with his momma. Which is ironic (life in general is ironic when you're a Gen-Xer) because Cha-Cha has always been a momma's boy. For the 1st two weeks of his life, he even refused to go to Monkey Man. So of course I gave him a hug and a kiss, and he went off with the teacher. And when I waved at him through the window, he waved back, but the look he gave me clearly said, "What are you still doing here?"

It was so surreal because Quake never hesitated to go with other people. He never had a shy stage, and I often worried that he'd start chatting with a stranger and be carried off. Perhaps you'd like a reminder of how well his 1st few days of preschool went...

After a few years, you start to think the kids are just messing with your head.

Anyway, Cha-Cha can't wait to go back. He spent most of the week disappointed it wasn't another school day for him (he's only going once a week). And of course Quake has started asking again to be home schooled. I'm pretty sure in his mind being "home schooled" means getting to play lots more video games. 

Forget Math, Impulse Control Is Hard!

Sorry to disagree with Barbie, but even when I thought I was bad at math (turns out that many math teachers just suck), it was still easier than saying no to a pile of sugar. Preferably one mixed with butter and baked to delicious golden-ness.

I was planning a post this morning about trying to impose a little self control by making some small changes to my diet. Like maybe cutting out all the sugar. Some of the sugar. Any of the sugar. Then I ate a handful of Indian corn and candy pumpkins for breakfast. So...that's going well.

ADD (or the more modern ADHD if you're nasty...or, you know, you're hyper) is often characterized as an 'attention' problem- it's in the name! And despite thinking the people who named it would know what they were doing, it's usually more helpful to see ADD as a failure in the brain's executive functions, things like impulse control and long term planning. Can you already see where this is going? Unless you're some freak of nature with impulsive salad eating and the ability to literally see food you eat instantly turn into fat, you're going to need these skills to make healthy changes.

It's become really popular to blame one's problems on ADD. "It's not my fault I ate all the cookies! My brain doesn't work well!" It smacks of not taking responsibility for one's actions. And wouldn't that indicate that your 'executive' functions are working really well? Badda-bing!

But there is an upside to blaming ADD for my dietary failures. Until now I've blamed my poor character and generally being a terrible excuse for a human being. It is soooooo much easier to get treatment for ADD than for being pathetic!

Starting Over - Edition 28,062

Today is a new day. Obviously.

Things have been going swimmingly here in the land of the-soon-to-be-constantly-gloomy-or-so-I'm-told-anyway. Quake started at his new school and loves it. I've had the chance to hang out with old friends, which has felt like we never spent the last 8 years sharing too few phone calls. Every single box has been unpacked. Wait, let me repeat that - every single box has been unpacked! We've gotten a few new pieces of furniture that fit the space better, and we finally have everything arranged comfortably.

So of course I've got to do something to keep myself unhappy. I mean, really, what will I talk about in therapy?

Oh, it's nothing dire, just your average self-sabotaging behavior. You know - eating a pint of ice cream in one evening, nibbling my cuticles to bloody little shreds, doing absolutely nothing on my to-do list for over a week, letting the the super critical bitch voice in head take up way too much of my time. The usual.

Yesterday afternoon I slapped myself upside the head -metaphorically speaking- and cleaned the bottom floor of the house. Not just picking up all the clutter and moving it somewhere else. There were three different vacuum cleaners involved. Which totally begs the question, why do I have three different vacuum cleaners?

And that brings us to today. The boys and I all slept a bit late this morning (Monkey Man is in Finland) so it's been a bit of a madhouse, but after I drop off Quake at school I'm gonna keep the groove going. On the agenda - some exercise, more cleaning, studying for my Oregon driver's license test, and quite possibly taking a shower.

Watch out world - I'm making my comeback!