24 April 2015

Seven Quick Takes

Little Bear is going to help with Seven Quick Takes today, because I'm not quite managing it. Just tired, kind of stressed... Braxton-Hicks keep freaking me out, because I never felt them with Little Bear and now, after Wednesday night's excitement, I panic each time thinking that maybe these are real. I just need a quiet weekend with Matt at home to help with Little Bear.

When it's too quiet in the kitchen...

Me: "What are you doing?"
Little Bear (very nonchalant voice): "Eating sour cream."

Yes, yes he was.

I love some of the ridiculous-for-a-2yo phrase constructions Little Bear has picked up from me. When I asked what he'd like for dessert tonight:

"Um, I think orange ice cream might be best."

There are also those that make me crazy, like how he's apparently decided that saying a food "is not my favorite" is substantially different from saying "no" to it (and therefore not rude/disobedient), even though when he says, "Fajitas are not my favorite," what he means is, "I'm not going to eat that, Mama." Tuesday evening, making fajitas, my responses to the repeated "not my favorite" nonsense quickly devolved from "But you've never tried fajitas!" to "I'm sorry that you feel that way" to "Too bad."

It's so great when kids learn to eat foods young that they haven't had to chance to learn that most kids don't like. That sentence was grammatically terrible; I'm sorry. But anyway, Little Bear loves pickled beets and spinach. Separately, I mean. There was probably a month straight of our weekly visits to my parents' house for supper when he would get super excited if he saw beets on the table, or burst into tears if he heard us decide not to set them out that night. His dad and papa (my dad) cannot understand this, but my mom and I think it's great! Today I made Monterey spaghetti in the slow cooker for supper: pasta, spinach, and lots of dairy. Is it cheating to smother the spinach in cheese and sour cream and then claim that my kid likes spinach? Maybe... He does eat it well in eggs and other casseroles too, though.

I thought I was doing pretty well, getting five to six 16 oz glasses of water a day, but the nurses on Wednesday night said I should be getting 120 oz of water a day! That's... okay, I just did the math and it's only seven and a half glasses. Fine. I can do that. But saying 120 ounces sounds like a LOT, though, doesn't it?

Next week is the last session of our parish's RCIA class, and tonight the other teacher and I were discussing a feedback form for our recent confirmandi to give us their input on the program we piloted this year and the class structure. When I got off the phone Matt asked, "You're going to have them fill it out there, right? Otherwise no one is going to turn them in." He smiled and shook his head skeptically as I explained about concepts like mailing forms back to the church, or dropping them by the parish office, or bringing them to Mass on Sunday.

"It's too hard to remember to bring something extra with you on Sunday morning."
"Women carry purses," I pointed out. "They just have to put the form in their purse, and it'll be there on Sunday."
"This is why men don't carry purses; the paper would go in, and never come out again until they were out in the middle of the woods and needed something to start a fire with, and then they'd be able to find it again."

You know you're out of ideas for SQT when you halfway-seriously consider your husband's suggestion that you "talk about all of the mud in our garage"... Sorry, y'all. No more brain tonight. Have a good weekend! I'm sure there are lots of people who were capable of putting actual thought into their SQT this week over at This Ain't the Lyceum.

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