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msagara writes a spot-on comparison of how being a mother is like being a writer.Happy Mother's Day to all my friends who mother, or write, or both.
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msagara writes a spot-on comparison of how being a mother is like being a writer.Happy Mother's Day to all my friends who mother, or write, or both.
Dear House writers:
I HATE YOU.
*sobs brokenly into 1,786th tissue*
Seriously, that hit way too close to home for me -- ( and this is why )
Conclusion: Quality-wise, in terms of the writing, the acting, the cinematography, it was excellent. And I never, ever want to see it again.
I HATE YOU.
*sobs brokenly into 1,786th tissue*
Seriously, that hit way too close to home for me -- ( and this is why )
Conclusion: Quality-wise, in terms of the writing, the acting, the cinematography, it was excellent. And I never, ever want to see it again.
what kitchen utensil are YOU?
You are a fridge! You can keep your cool, even when faced with a heated situation. You enjoy being the center of attention, and people come to you for advice or when they want something. People also like to stick things to the front of your body.
Wow, how did they know I had kids? *peels Bob the Builder sticker off left knee*
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I used to ignore Valentine's Day -- even for the last three years I've been married we haven't done anything particular to celebrate -- but tonight seemed like a good night to go out for dinner, so we did. We (Hubby, Nicholas and I) had a wonderful meal at The Olde English Parlour and Pub, a restaurant we'd not visited before (but will surely be visiting again -- terrific food, fast service, lovely atmosphere!), then finished up with a couple of Blizzards from DQ. Burp.
Afterward, as we were lying on the sofa at home trying to recover from being thoroughly stuffed, Hubby was chatting with Nicholas about the new baby. "Nicholas," he said, "Where's the baby?"
Twenty-month-old Nicholas, who is no slouch, pointed to my stomach. "Good boy!" enthused Hubby. "Now, which do you want, a little brother or a little sister? Boy or girl?"
Nicholas considered this seriously a moment. Then he said, with great clarity and emphasis, "Doggie."
After the hysterical mirth generated by this statement had subsided, Hubby tried again. "Mama can't have a doggie, Nicholas," he said. "Just a boy or a girl. Which do you want?"
"Girl," said Nicholas.
"Are you sure? Don't you want a little brother?"
"No." He sounded very definite.
"You want a sister?"
"Sister."
So, that appears to settle it. We'll see if he's right.
Afterward, as we were lying on the sofa at home trying to recover from being thoroughly stuffed, Hubby was chatting with Nicholas about the new baby. "Nicholas," he said, "Where's the baby?"
Twenty-month-old Nicholas, who is no slouch, pointed to my stomach. "Good boy!" enthused Hubby. "Now, which do you want, a little brother or a little sister? Boy or girl?"
Nicholas considered this seriously a moment. Then he said, with great clarity and emphasis, "Doggie."
After the hysterical mirth generated by this statement had subsided, Hubby tried again. "Mama can't have a doggie, Nicholas," he said. "Just a boy or a girl. Which do you want?"
"Girl," said Nicholas.
"Are you sure? Don't you want a little brother?"
"No." He sounded very definite.
"You want a sister?"
"Sister."
So, that appears to settle it. We'll see if he's right.
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Just put Nicholas down for his nap, so I've a few minutes to spare before I go and have mine...
Wouldn't it be great if you could bank sleep? If I could store up all these diligent afternoon naps of mine for the week before I go into labour and two weeks or so afterward, I'd be a lot better off than I was last time around. It's always fun going into 18 hours of labour on 2 hours of sleep and then not getting any sleep for 72 hours afterward. Ha ha, she laughed hysterically.
Today's reading: Ephesians 3:20-21. That may seem awfully short, but I re-read the rest of Chapter 3 to get the context first. I'm trying to teach myself to meditate -- no, not in the sense of sitting there with crossed legs going "om", but in the sense of reading slowly and really thinking about, mulling over, every word I read so that it stays with me for the rest of the day. You see, I'm an invereterate speed-reader -- always have been. Which makes me great for consuming humongous amounts of fiction, but lousy at appreciating poetry, getting a firm grip on a sustained argument, or reading the Bible. Well, you can speed-read the Bible, but you sure don't get much out of it.
I used to take incredibly detailed notes on every passage I read. I'd sit there with my Online Bible cued up and look up words in the Hebrew and Greek lexicons, analyse the grammar, check for cross-references, etc., scribbling down observations all the while. It was good discipline at first, but it got awfully academic and dry after a while. So I'm trying this new approach, in the hopes that what I read will somehow get past my over-analytical head and challenge my all-too-complacent heart.
"To Him who is able to do exceedingly abundantly above all that we ask or think..." That's quite a set of superlatives there. Exceedingly, abundantly, above. I suspect Paul was trying to make a point. Don't ask me why, it's just a crazy notion I've got. (Insert smiley here.)
More later.
Wouldn't it be great if you could bank sleep? If I could store up all these diligent afternoon naps of mine for the week before I go into labour and two weeks or so afterward, I'd be a lot better off than I was last time around. It's always fun going into 18 hours of labour on 2 hours of sleep and then not getting any sleep for 72 hours afterward. Ha ha, she laughed hysterically.
Today's reading: Ephesians 3:20-21. That may seem awfully short, but I re-read the rest of Chapter 3 to get the context first. I'm trying to teach myself to meditate -- no, not in the sense of sitting there with crossed legs going "om", but in the sense of reading slowly and really thinking about, mulling over, every word I read so that it stays with me for the rest of the day. You see, I'm an invereterate speed-reader -- always have been. Which makes me great for consuming humongous amounts of fiction, but lousy at appreciating poetry, getting a firm grip on a sustained argument, or reading the Bible. Well, you can speed-read the Bible, but you sure don't get much out of it.
I used to take incredibly detailed notes on every passage I read. I'd sit there with my Online Bible cued up and look up words in the Hebrew and Greek lexicons, analyse the grammar, check for cross-references, etc., scribbling down observations all the while. It was good discipline at first, but it got awfully academic and dry after a while. So I'm trying this new approach, in the hopes that what I read will somehow get past my over-analytical head and challenge my all-too-complacent heart.
"To Him who is able to do exceedingly abundantly above all that we ask or think..." That's quite a set of superlatives there. Exceedingly, abundantly, above. I suspect Paul was trying to make a point. Don't ask me why, it's just a crazy notion I've got. (Insert smiley here.)
More later.
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