according to facebook quizzes:

i will get married when i'm 19
(i was 20)
my marriage will last forever
(um, no. but 6 years is forever when you're 3, right? so it depends on perspective, maybe)
i should marry johnny depp
(HELL, YEAH. although marriage isn't actually what i think about when i think of him)
if i am an 80's tv character, i am punky brewster
(sure beats alf)
i should have 3 kids
if i am a cheese, i am brie
(Your personality is rich and classy, with an exterior that some may find daunting to stomach, but is well worth the discomfort once they get to know you. You have expensive taste, but not flashy at first glance. You are much better once the atmosphere has warmed up a bit. Strong yet gentle, it takes a distinctive person to appreciate you.)
i'm really 22 years old

ok, that's enough for now. a girl can only take so much self-revelation before lunch.

fun for the whole family

i was given a couch yesterday. it's one of those fantastic couches with removable cushions. my kids have never had one like this before. so, of course, i taught them how to make forts.they liked it. a lot.

this week has been really hard. i took too many hours at work, was swamped with schoolwork, and didn't do anything fun at all. the work was shitty (pun intended, see previous post) the homework was tedious and uninteresting, and i was really lonely.
and yet i've been much happier this week, with all its suckiness, than i was before i moved to my new house. the realization that even a really bad week can't drain my joy at being here, being independent, was huge confirmation that i've done the right thing. i know that things will get better as i improve at managing my time and learn to say no to shifts. I'm told that this is the hardest part, and if this is the worst it gets i'm just fine. i'm laughing.

a dork in love

i'm not into science. believe me, it's at the bottom of my list of interests, generally. i'm not particularly fascinated by genetics. or old japanese men. or german monks, especially ones that have been dead for 125 years. and normally gardeners don't give me the hots, although i'm sure there are exceptions.

so why do i have crushes on these men?

this is david suzuki. every canadian knows of him, most revere him. he's an environmental activist. also a geneticist. and he likes gardens a great deal.
and this is gregor mendel. 'the father of genetics'. he's known for fiddling around in the gardens in the abbey where he was a monk, figuring out the natural laws that govern trait inheritance. so what's with this? is it the glasses? the thin lips? the appearance of intelligence, kindness and serious hotness?

don't tell anyone, ok? i don't want to be known as that chick with the thing for geneticists who garden. although i might be. but shush.

nasal revelations

yesterday i visited a clinic to see about some recurring, extreme nosebleeds i'd been having, and i learned a few things.

1. it is a surreal experience to have two strangers looking up and inserting objects into my nose.
2. getting one's nostril cauterized without anesthetic is freaking painful.
3. i have a crooked nose.

it is item #3 that this post is concerned about.

i had no idea! my partner tells me that it's always been crooked and he just assumed that i knew. the doctor told me that my deviated septum (as a crooked nose is called in the medical community) is caused by a serious blow to the face, resulting in a broken nose. but i've never broken my nose. have i? could i have broken it and not noticed?

i called my dad. he was as surprised as i to hear that my nose is crooked and was once broken. we reviewed my youthful facial injuries together, and came up with nothing. the only serious blow my face has ever sustained was to my eyebrow.

how the hell does a person break her nose without noticing? wikipedia says it could have happened as i descended the birth canal, but how does a person go through life with a noticeably crooked nose without noticing? here, take a look.

head-on. notice how the nose points to your left?
with my head turned, so my nose is symmetrical. you can see from my glasses frame that my head is turned quite a bit.

ok, so i'm not owen wilson, but the fact that i survived my self-obsessed adolescence without noticing a crooked nose is astounding. am i utterly deluded and have no idea how i actually look? am i so utterly unselfconscious that i never bothered to look? i don't think that's it. i spent as much time obsessing into the mirror as any other teenager.

i'm making up for it now. brushing my teeth last night was bizarre. this huge, crooked schnoz stared me down. i had to go finish cleaning my teeth in the kitchen. it's become overwhelmingly obvious, taking over my whole face. i prefer not to look up when i'm washing my hands.

what next, do i have some tattoos on my hands that i've never noticed and don't remember getting? will additional kids i've birthed and raised without realizing it start popping up?

my knittiversary!

on feb 13, 2008 i started knitting. i don't have pictures of several of my projects, but here's a selection of things i've worked on in the past year, in chronological order, with intermittent reminisces:
i used to knit when i was a kid. my dad taught me. he's a fantastic knitter, but his compulsion to constantly have something on the needles has worn off after more than 40 years. it's ok, i make up for his lack of knitting fanaticism.when i was 8 or 9 i read about hellen keller and became really interested in understanding how she perceived things. (i'd say i wanted to see things through her eyes, but that might be in poor taste) upon learning that she could knit, i started knitting in the dark. i remember my parents finding me sitting bolt upright on my bed (in my mind hellen keller had perfect posture) with the lights off and blinds drawn, knitting. as i recall they were baffled.my childhood knitting involved starting a lot of scarves and getting bored of them. i haven't made a single scarf, so far, and i have no plans to in the near future.my interest in knitting was reawakened by three things:

1. some good friends of mine knit. the things they make are beautiful and interesting. i like making things, especially beautiful, interesting things.
2. i was running low on socks and couldn't find ethical, affordable ones anywhere. my knitting friends, serendipitously, are sock knitters. it had never occurred to me before to make my own socks, but the idea was becoming appealing.
3. finally, i was in my favourite consignment/ yarn store and saw a yarn that took my breath away. the colours and textures sang to me. it was noro kureyon sock yarn, and with it i made these:

since then knitting has really grabbed me. my list of things i'd like to do is as long as my arm, easily. i spend lots of time on ravelry, and often as i drift off to sleep at night i'm thinking about knitting.
colour and light, followed closely by texture, are important to my mental wellbeing. photography satisfies my visual needs, but without something to touch, i'm not completley satisfied. yarn has colour and texture, and turning string into fabric is food for my soul.this year i'm hoping to make one pair of socks a month. included in that is at least one pair of felted slippers and some christmas stockings. i haven't decided if i need to make one stocking or two in a month to meet mygoal. i suspect that it will depend on how ornate the stockings are.on top of all those socks i want to make a sweater or two, a shrug, two hats, and more. it will be a busy year, knit-wise, but that appeals to me.these are my january socks. i've already blogged about them lots so you're probably bored of hearing about them. this hat has me stumped. i should have used a pattern. improvising is great when it works, but when it doesn't...this is one of my february socks. i'm making thick socks for my dad. they'll be done by the end of the month but not in time for his birthday.

pottymouth

this morning i was peacefully sipping my coffee when i heard a little voice coming from under the table.
...mumble mumble bloody fuckin' mumble mumble....
he sounded just the way his mama (charmingly) does when she's frustrated with something.

my son has recently become fascinated with language. he wants to know the french words for things, the synonyms for things, and when different words are appropriate. we've been trying to teach him that there are certain words, beverages and behaviours that only grown-ups get to do. (before your mind throws itself in the gutter, by 'behaviours' i mean using the stove, telling the baby not to do things, filling the bath, and staying up late)

we've rolled our eyes when he's felt the need to run around the house yelling 'penis' over and over and over. it's perfectly acceptable when he says 'what the heck. what the heck, mama!' but we have serious talks about age-appropriate language when he tells me that he just took a shit. in fact, he recently told a guest that he wasn't allowed to say hell or ass because he's just a little boy.

i realize this arrangement isn't ideal. we've been trying for more than three years to clean up our language. what i've realised is that i love swearing, and i really resent being censored, even if it's by a baby. this is just another part of the struggle between being true to my (foul-mouthed) self and doing what's best for my kids. i'm trying to find a balance, and for now being openly hypocritical seems to be what works.

in other language-related news, the baby can say 'death star' and 'yoda', but not 'juice' or 'apple'. we teach our kids right, 'round here.

fuckin' a.

28 things about me

1. escalators make me nervous. regular stairs, too. i avoid them when possible.
2. i can lick my nose
3. i'm a certified jeweler
4. dairy, onions and peppers give me gas
5. i learned to read when i was 3
6. i don't know how to drive
7. my knee is semi-crippled.
8. my parents think i'm an evangelical christian
9. i'm agnostic, but i call myself a pastafarian because that's more fun (and means basically the same thing)
10. i endeavor to be better at photography. i read about it and practice lots.
11. ditto knitting.
12. i often struggle with the way my life is. this is nothing like what i had planned.
13. i'm very allergic to beestings
14. dragonflies terrify me
15. my belly fat is deeply embarrassing to me.
16. i accidentally killed a mouse when i was 7 and i still feel guilty
17. adopting a couple of girls would be a dream come true for me, but i don't think it will ever happen.
18. i spent a couple of years being severely depressed
19. i wanted to name my younger son jedi but my partner vetoed the idea.
20. i had a pet rat named snitch, but i only had her for two weeks. don't cosleep with rodents, yo.
21. sugar is my main vice. i don't really have any others.
22. well, and caffeine. but nothing else.
23. i only have a few friends in real life. my online social life is much more active.
24. i pronounce apricot ape-ricot, not app-ricot, to my partner's chagrin.
25. reading is much better than watching tv, in my opinion.
26. i know how to tango. badly, but still, i know the basics.
27. most of my undies are organic.
28. i normally use all owercase letters when typing because i'm not a capitalist.

any questions?

2008: a retrospective

thinking back, it's hard to remember what i did this year. nothing, mostly. a lot of sitting around. i'm usually too tired to feel capable of anything, so i sit in this chair and read blogs and webcomics and message boards. it's not a good use of my time, but what else can i do? i end up frustrated and angry when i try to challenge myself when i've had very little sleep. so a lot of this year was pissed away. that sucks, but it's not something that i have a lot of control over.

a year or maybe a bit more ago i realized that this whole stay-at-home gig wasn't about to end anytime soon and bitching about it was only making me depressed. in 2008 i tried to make the best of it and be the best goddamn housewife the world has ever seen. i knit, cooked, canned, butchered, gardened, wiped asses, read stories, came up with activities, cleaned... you name it, i tried my hand at it in 2008. i learned a few things about myself in the process.

i hate doing childcare. hate it. my kids are great in small doses, i can read to them and tickle them and wipe their tears... but all day, every day, and every night? fuck, no. keeping them fed and clean(ish) and entertained and mediating their conflicts wears away at me and pisses me off. i spend a lot of time just wanting them to go away. unfortunately, childcare is my primary activity. fuck. all i can really do about this is wait as patiently as i can for them to get old enough to start school and, hopefully, one day start sleeping through the night. i hate that i have this attitude because one day they won't be so small and cute and they won't want to snuggle with me. i don't want to waste these years with my impatience and irritability. i don't want them to remember me as the mama who just wanted them to go away. so i really do try hard to be a good, attentive mother. but as i read them the same stupid book for the ten millionth time, i keep an eye on the clock.

cooking, cleaning and laundry i can handle. they're mindless activities that need doing. cleaning is a pretty quick way to get satisfying results. cooking can be fun, if no one is pulling at my legs. laundry... whatever. it's fast and i like clean undies. i can't stand cleaning the kitchen, so it stays dirty. problem solved!

gardening, canning and knitting make me happy. i love making things, especially useful things. these aren't often considered to be serious art forms, but they're the closest i get these days. i don't miss painting and doing metalwork when i'm gardening. canning is a little more tedious, but the resulting rows of jars fill me with as much pride as any ring or painting ever did. knitting is sort of a mix - i liken it to making jewelry. the conception and planning of a project is where the creativity is - choosing materials and a pattern or design. then comes the drudgery, where i use the skills i have and acquire whatever new ones i need to create the object. the finishing touches and cleanup always make me feel glow-y. unless the project didn't work out the way i wanted, and then i walk around muttering curses for a while, then start over.


metalwork is more prone to creating income, but it takes lengthy, formal training and a lot of expensive equipment. knitting is less impressive to an outsider, but it's a more affordable art, and one that i can practice while my kids play. and it doesn't cause serious health problems in fetuses. one day i hope to get back into jewellerymaking, but until then knitting is an acceptable substitute.

i'll get to it eventually

i had intended to write a review for miriam toews' the flying troutmans, but there has been a change of plans. my baby is sick. i've put down my book and my knitting and curled around his little body, feeling the heat radiate off him and hearing his laboured breathing and terrible cough. he has thrown up on me six times in the last 24 hours, and i'm sure he's not done. he has a droning cry that goes on and on, he's limp and he freaks out if i so much as shift in my seat. it's time to just sit and wait. and so i sit and wait.

today has brought some wonderful things. my friends are amazing; i will never feel alone with them posting photoshopped boob shots of themselves and insulting my mom. my partner has brought me indian food, chocolate croissants, mandarin oranges, very strong coffee, towels and change after change of clothes.

the thing that i contemplate the most as i spend hour after hour with the little guy is how wonderful this is. when my older son was this age he got sick every single week. he weighed nothing. i was almost fired because we constantly had to stay home from daycare because of his sicknesses. my baby, on the other hand, has no chronic medical issues. he has had colds a handful of times in his year and a half. he is a hefty little person. he(normally) laughs and dances and tries to keep up with his brother. a few days of congested misery i can handle.

i'll get you that review sooner or later.

on voting

first:
congratulations, world, on ousting bush. felicitations, americans, on electing a black man. may things turn out as well as you hope. (because, you know, he's secretly a marxist muslim arab terrorist who eats babies, but he won't reveal his true self until after he's sworn in.) (i'm kidding, people)
the only way nov 4 could have gone better is if prop 8 had been resoundingly defeated in california and i had won the lottery.

but i digress.

a few weeks ago we canadians had our federal elections. being the political junkie that i am, i was reading and talking and theorizing about the whole thing nonstop. i would have gone out and volunteered, but my son was sick, then my parents were here.
on the day of the elections my partner and i had a discussion on why voting is important. i consider it to be a duty and one of the most important things i can do. especially as a woman. i owe the women who fought and suffered so i could vote this much, as least.
but, he said, if everyone else is voting one way why even vote? if we vote with the crowd it makes no difference and if we vote against the flow it makes no difference. why bother?
i bumbled and stumbled and tried to articulate why we should always vote, but i didn't have the right words for it.

this past sunday i went to a bob dylan concert. his showmanship was mediocre at best, but the thrill of actually being there was incredible.it looked like this.

in the middle of the concert, when the whole arena was clapping and screaming and whistling, i had an epiphany.

voting is like applause.
really, it makes no difference if i join in applause. i can clap or not, either way it's a deafening noise. you can choose not to clap, too, it's ok. but if everyone chooses not to clap, you don't get applause, do you? if everyone chooses to put their hands together for someone or something, something amazing and communal happens. so, fine: don't clap. don't vote. but you're just standing there like a douchebag while everyone around you is contributing.

book review: not buying it

every night this week after the babes have gone to sleep i've settled down on the couch with my knitting and not buying it: my year without shopping by judith levine.
i like it. it's honest, witty, cohesive, applicable - all the things i like in a book, and i tend to agree with her fairly constantly. judith and her partner, paul, go a year without shopping. they buy groceries, home repair stuff, etc, but the endeavour (with varying success) to not spend money as entertainment. they don't go to movies, don't eat out, and don't indulge in 'retail therapy'. judith is a politically active non-republican and the book is written about the year that bush was re-elected. she is passionate about ousting bush from his (usurped) role and deeply affected by his election. (not reelection)

she is excellent at articulating something that i have felt for a while about opting out of consumerism. it's green party fundraisers, vegan collective job applications (declined) and fitting in with the geez and adbusters crowd. (which i probably would, if i ever left the house) it's occasionally raising one's voice with rev. billy and the church of stop shopping on buy nothing day. (which she does) but 99% of the time it is boring and inconvenient and a real drag. it's walking in car-centric strip malls. it's arriving home starving and having to actually cook dinner, instead of pulling out a tv dinner or picking up some mcdonald's on the way home. it's scouring the earth for the least harmful way to clothe, feed, shelter and entertain oneself instead of turning on the tv and zoning out. it is tedious. but i'm not going to stop.

the nonconsumerism and politics combine to make it an informative, enjoyable read, one i can really relate to. i'm definitley borrowing her other books from the library.

but reading about not buying frivolities has had an unexplainable effect on me. each evening as i have enjoyed the book, the knitting, and the silence, i have had a nearly uncontrollable urge to order pizza. i can't get it out of my head. it's like that youtube video - clinging to my brain like a toddler with illicit candy - i can't pry it loose. i'm not hungry. i can't afford pizza. i don't even really like pizza that much. there is no good reason for this pizza fixation, but i desperately want a pizza guy to show up at my house with a fragrant box of grease. in an effort not to delve deeper into my psyche, i am going to just blame the book. all this talk of not buying has made me crave pointless consumerism. damn you, judith levine.

well, not really. actually, i think you kick ass. come for coffee sometime.

three years

three and a half years ago things were going haywire with my girly bits. you don't need details. basically, every month i was conceiving and miscarrying without ever knowing it. it sucked. the doc said i should quit the pill for a few months, let my body get back to normal, then try another type of pill. and that i shouldn't expect to get a period, since quitting the pill does that to a person for up to a year.three years ago this week i went to the walk-in clinic for my new prescription for the pill. the routine is that they do a preggo test before issuing the pills. it's no biggie. i pee in the cup and read my book for a few minutes, then the doc hands me my prescription and i'm good to go. i only ever felt the slightest twinge of trepidation as i peed in the cup, but no worse than usual. a few minutes later the doc came into the exam room and i said, looking up 'you got it? good, i need to get going' or something like that. and the doctor was silent. she was giving me a funny look. my stomach suddenly felt like a lead brick.

it turned out that i'd been pregnant for 5 months without knowing it. oops. guess i shouldn't have imbibed, huh?this was my belly, 2 weeks later, when my back was arched to make it stick out. it's bigger at this moment and i am definitley not pregnant. seriously, how could i have known?!?!

anyways, three years ago this week everything about my life changed. and now i here i am.

sweet nothing(s)

1. i'm on a peanut butter on toast kick. i love how peanut butter melts a little bit and gets all gooey. i love that i have found a place to buy bread where it is cheaper than making it. about 61 cents a loaf. so i can eat peanut butter on toast with wild abandon.

2. tomorrow is my partner's birthday. yes, he was born on earth day. we're out of eggs, milk, soymilk, all sorts of stuff, but i wanted to bake him a cake or brownies tonight. it doesn't look like it's going to happen. i'll get some groceries tomorrow and hopefully have something birthday-ish to feed him for dinner. he's requesting liver and onions. cooking liver makes me want to vomit.

3. i applied for a job over the weekend and i was soooooo excited because i was certain i'd gotten it, but then they never called today like they said they would. so now i'm questioning myself. did i misinterpret their apparent enthusiasm at the prospect of hiring me? are they devious and sneaky and act like that with everyone? will they call tomorrow? will i ever get a job?

4. my maternity benefits end in july. i need to find a source of income by then. any ideas?

5. is a round number. i am going to bed now. here are some random, amusing images to see you off.

trunny roubles

i've been financially challenged for my whole life, some times more than others. i'm very, very good at living frugally. i'm not so good with money-related stress. i tend to do stupid things when things get bad, like stopping eating and developing ulcers. not so good.

i've been reading about the american economy and keeping track of what's going on - it doesn't look good. and when the USA takes a dump canada has to turn the bathroom fan on. all this means that i'm not likely to be suffering from excessive affluence any time soon. and things are bad for us right now, thanks to some unexpected, expensive events. so i'm feeling the money stress. but if the economy is tanking i need to learn some better coping skills. i can't spend the next five years obsessively reworking the numbers, skipping food and not sleeping. those things aren't my idea of fun. i need to find new ways to be.

so we have a new budget. i think it's going to work. i don't feel guilty and wasteful every time i eat something, since i know that my meals fit in our budget. and i can ride a bus without panicking about the bus fare for the whole ride. in fact, i can buy the things i need and the things i want, within limits. because i've told myself that the amounts for each thing are set in stone and i can't change them just because i'm neurotic.

so instead of seeing how many vital things i can cut from our lives i'm trying a new challenge: how good of quality of life can i provide within the budget? i've begun baking, knitting, making soy milk. cooking, attempting to clean more, trying to use creative, homemade solutions. plant pots made from flyers, homemade biscuits when i want a snack, things like that. if i save enough up i'm going to get the supplies needed to make cheese. in the meantime i'm buying the odd avocado or kiwi, savouring really good coffee.

grey skies are gonna clear up

we were just offered a free car tonight. i haven't told my partner or the co-owners of the jetta yet. i will tomorrow. it's late and i'm so tired and sore and frustrated and stressed, but this amazing thing out of the blue lightens my mind a little.

i'm a little melancholy lately, since my babies seem to be in a huge rush to grow up. between the last paragraph and this one the baby stood up for a while, supporting himself, with my hands hovering under his, ready for when he wavered. he didn't need me for support or balance. he's been teething and working on crawling. his big brother is potty training and learning 50 000 new words a day. tonight he let me leave the room before he was asleep at bedtime. he called me back once so i could watch him close his eyes and actually fall asleep, but he wasn't scared of being alone or anything, he just likes having me there.
these boys need me less and less each day.

glumly puttering along

i've been pretty depressed lately. partly it's the sleep deprivation, partly it's the weather...
i'm trying to apply to graphic design school. but the requirements are insane. there is a whole booklet that i have to follow, with a whole pile of assignments for my portfolio. they're all very specific and very, very complicated. it would take at least 50 hours to complete all the drawing assignments, without even looking at the written ones. i have about a month to get it all done.
and even if i did get everything done in time and made it into the program, is the intensity of the list of requirements for admission similar to the daily demands of the program? i'd end up dropping out after a few weeks in that case. i'm no superwoman and i can't deprive my kids of the attention they deserve... i don't want too unbalanced a life.

so if not graphic design school, what? should i take welding? buy a little farm and grow hemp? go work for the government?

i don't want to be a stay-at-home mama, though. it's not particularly fulfilling as a long term thing.

back to figuring out my vocation...

2007

in the past year:

i worked 2 full time jobs while pregnant.
i quit the jobs because the boy was too sick to stay in daycare.
i supported the 3 of us on two shifts a week while pregnant.
i threw up in the grocery store.
we figured out that the boy is a celiac and put him on a gluten free diet.
we went to the west coast to see family and friends.
we depended on the food bank.
i started working more when i was 6 months pregnant.
my partner dropped out of massage school.
my father has visited.
we have given away a car.
we have bought a car.
i went on mat leave.
my baby was born.
we planned on selling the house and moving to the west coast then changed our minds.
my mother has visited.
the baby had emergency surgery for a pyloric stenosis.
my inlaws have visited.
my partner had... (counting on fingers) at least 8 different jobs.
my boy turned 2.
i realized that i am not a christian and stopped calling myself one.
i decided what to be when i grow up.
we visited the inlaws for the holidays
i met up with a bunch of friends from online and had a blast

a busy year.

sometimes i just suck

i'm really, really imperfect. so is my son. we've been known to disagree, upon occasion. take yesterday morning.

now, in my defense, i'd had about 2 hours of sleep. but that's a feeble excuse. many other women could have held it together in the same circumstances, but i am not those women. really, from the moment i hauled my sorry ass from bed i was looking for a chance to blow up. then the boy emptied the container cupboard - something he does every few days. normally i let him play with the containers, then when he loses interest i bring him back and help him clean them up.
yesterday he'd barely gotten them all out of the cupboard when i decided that he needed to clean them up, now. so i said so, but maybe more like NOW. then i told him that they had to be picked up NOW, OR ELSE!!. then i proceeded to insist that they be cleaned up THIS MINUTE OR YOU'RE GETTING IN TROUBLE!!!!. being his happy little self, my son ignored my unprovoked fury and picked up the lid of a yogurt container and skimmed it across the floor. i swear that at this moment i gained a second personality, and that personality was hitler.

i swear, before i had a baby i was the mellowest person. it took a lot to get me pissed off, and even then i'd just rant and rave a bit then forget all about it. but something changed when the boy was born. there are days when i just quietly simmer away, waiting for the chance to let my rage loose. i have so much pent up fury, for no good reason. nobody has wronged me. i have a comfortable, safe life. people love me. my baby grins at me every time i look at him. my boy wants nothing more than to play with me, be hugged by me and just generally be around me. so what's wrong with me?

my new deity

originally an evangelical christian, i have been on a journey for the past few years. i've established that i'm definitely not a christian (don't tell my parents or in-laws) and i'm not an atheist... according to beliefnet's belief-o-matic quiz i'm a neo-pagan, but i'm disinclined to express that faith in any but the most casual and cynical of ways.
today i realized what my faith is. (aside from pastafarianism, which will always be my true faith) i actually worship the internet. i'm not sure what the name for that would be, but there you have it. the internet is an invisible, powerful, mysterious being that brought me together with some of my closest friends. it gives me companionship, comfort, entertainment and information. it it who i go to when i can't sleep at night, when i'm worried about something, and when i'm bored. i can't imagine a day without the internet and i talk about it fairly regularly. this very blog could be considered a prayer.
internetian? nope. um, webworshipper? uh... i need to think on this.

ps. googleimages was unhelpful in my quest to end this post with an appropriate image. alas. the internet let me down.

my 11th post

there are ten posts previous to this one, and here are the tags they bear:

• about the boy (4)
• avoiding housewifedom (1)
• ethical clothing (1)
• exhaustion (4)
• filth and squalor (2)
• gf cooking (2)
• housekeeping (2)
• navelgazing (2)
• pastafarianism (1)
• personal appearances (1)
• piss-poor parenting (2)
• vomit (3)

as you can see, 40% of them are about exhaustion, 40% feature my older son, and a third of them mention vomit. i'm actually surprised that vomit didn't get mentioned in more posts, since it's the main feature in my life lately. but there you have it. this blog is exhausted and puke-infestd, mostly thanks to the boy. take a bow, son.