Brains, Time and Chocolate Bread

The Orclette is very curious, like most kids her age. Her latest interest has been brains, children's brains to be exact. So we looked at some Google images until I'd had enough and suggested we look at some sea animals like the norwhale or squid. The norwhale wasn't exciting enough but apparently the giant squid was. So now she'll wake up and first thing ask to look at the brains and the squid, usually as I'm savoring my first cup of coffee.

We've also been learning about time. She noticed that the numbers on our digital car clock changed and she wanted to know why. I explained, and then I was entrusted with the task of telling her when they changed because she couldn't see it that well. She'll also turn on my phone and read off the numbers to me, not in order, and want to know what time it is. We have been working on time in our school curriculum as well, talking about how the earth orbits the sun. The whole concept is still rather fuzzy to the Orclette, however, since she told me a couple days ago that it had been six whole years since we'd last had a doughnut! (She's four) She also told me that something else was taking "16 17 18 19 months!" The bigger the number the better, apparently.

In addition to all this learning we've been learning to bake. So far we've made Pumpkin-Prune-Chocolate Chip Bread (really good and pretty healthy), Irish Soda Bread (yum but not so healthy) and Chocolate Bread (yum as well and fairly healthy, since I surreptitiously added prune puree to it). The Orclette will eat one slice and then decide she doesn't like it. The Miniorc, on the other hand, is delighted with every bread we have made so far. Oh well.

So there you have just a glimpse of my vibrant, curious and adorable Orclette.

Authentic Tea, Frankenstein and a lovely state of exhaustion.

Authentic Tea:


Yesterday I had a powerful craving for something sweet. I don't allow myself, during the week, to have sweets. Dilemma. Fortunately I remembered that I had some vanilla chai tea and I remembered that being a rather sweet drink. I dug it out, read the directions for "authentic" chai tea, and brewed a cup. Absolutely delicious. For such a simple recipe (boil 1 C. water with 1/4C. milk with the tea bag, simmer for two minutes) I felt quite proud of myself. I think it's because I had transitioned from drinking tea made in an unauthentic way to an authentic one.

Frankenstein:


I had to read this book for school. Yes, I did say I wasn't going to school, and I meant it. Then the first day of school came around and I was a miserable, emotional wreck. I even cried (I don't normally cry). So Damm fixed it by discovering that I can get the Pell Grant-the entire amount-if I have six credit hours. So I am now in two classes: one a Science Fiction course, and one a military history/social course. They're fun in content and I don't foresee them being stressful.

Anyway, I had to read this book for school. I had already read it and remembered loving it. I'm not too sure what I loved about it; a little kid dies and Victor Frankenstein was a pompous @#$. Apparently in Mary Shelley's first version Frankenstein took some responsibility for his actions, but when she revised it in 1831 she took that away and made him more of a victim of destiny. Baloney, in my opinion. I think we were supposed to have some sort of compassion for the monster (in the book the monster is never, ever given Frankenstein's name and that is a crucial point) but I was unable to muster any given his crimes.

The point of reading this book for my class is that it is the first example of Science Fiction. Our prof theorizes that the transition from the Enlightenment to the Industrial Revolution was responsible for this new literary style. For the first time a person could be born in one world, technologically speaking, and die in another. That was not the way it had historically been; parents expected that their children would grow up and live and die using the same technology they had. So, viewed in that light, the book is pretty interesting.

Exhaustion:


Between taking care of the kiddos, working a demanding physical job, training for the Bataan march and fitting in homework sessions I've lost and inch and a half (yay!). The downside of that is that I've been exhausted. That was somewhat remedied by the nap I took yesterday. It was a memorable one: Miniorc fell asleep with me, the heater was on ensuring the room was nice and warm and I was surrounded by nice, soft pillows. I don't take naps often so anytime I do I make note of it:) There wasn't really a point of relating this nap to you but it was just so darn relaxing that I included the experience.


Next up is the War of the Worlds. I've seen both movies but I don't think I've ever read the book. Should be interesting.

I thought we were a few years away from this conversation.

This is the Orclette two years ago. She's still that size in my head, and I suspect I will always, at least in some way, picture her as my little baby. Yes, this is relevant to the topic.

So this afternoon I was looking for some way to entertain the Orclette and Miniorc. It had been a loooong day; first day of school for Damm and an emotional one for me as everyone started school and I didn't. I got out the removable "Cars 2" tattoos and put one on the Miniorc's hand. He flipped out, crying and asking me to take it off. I'm guessing he's observed mine don't come off and he thought I'd put one like mine on him. I removed his "tattoo", told him I wouldn't do such a terrible thing to him again, and we were all good.

The Orclette was cool as a cucumber, picking out the ones she wanted and sitting completely still as we waited the thirty seconds necessary for the design to transfer. For some reason I thought this would be a good moment to mention that real tattoos don't come off as easily as these did and that she was going to wait until she was eighteen and probably shouldn't get one anyway and that if she did it should be somewhere she could easily cover it up and she better pay cash for it (imagine I said all that without pausing and with increasing intensity). She looked at me very seriously after my mini-lecture and said "well, I'll probably get one when I'm eighteen".

Should never have brought it up. At least she told me she planned to disregard my advice, unlike myself who disregarded my mother's advice and let her discover it later (that was a really bad moment, when she spotted my first tattoo). And there's still time to persuade her not to get it smack-dab in the middle of her chest area. I now have sympathy for my mother, who probably carries around a toddler-sized image of me in her head. I can't imagine that little cutie in the picture letting heavily tattooed men tattoo her to the sound of really bad rock music. My, how times have changed.

The best feeling ever.

This past summer I had to have my wisdom teeth removed. I'm not averse to some pain but the thought of being awake while my teeth, one of them impacted, were pulled out was a bit much. So I opted for sedation surgery. It was amazing: the stuff they gave me was incredibly relaxing, and it was better than the moment my epidural hit after eighteen hours of labor (but not by much). The day after, which was filled with sleeping and then more sleeping, was also heaven.

The absolute best moment, though, was about a week after the surgery. I had been trying to get through the day without Percocet, because I had read it's highly addictive and I didn't want to take any chances. I wasn't healing as fast as I should have been, however, so the doctor told me I should take the Percocet. I obeyed. One Sunday morning I got up early, as is my habit, and got some homework done. I was still extremely tired, though, because both Damm and I push ourselves incredibly hard during the semester (it takes weeks for us to physically and mentally recover). So I took my Percocet and decided to cuddle with my kids and Damm on the bed. I fell back asleep-something that doesn't usually happen-and that feeling as I succumbed to the effects of the drug surpassed the epidural and the sedation surgery.

Since then I haven't felt relaxed. I'm making progress, now that the decision not to go back to school has been made. But that feeling of complete and total inertia has been hard to replicate (because I have no desire to become dependent on any type of drug), at least until I restarted my yoga practice. I don't typically do the harder versions of yoga; I prefer slow and gentle. And today, while I was going through a series of forward bends, I achieved that feeling of complete inertia, of total relaxation. It was felicity.

All that to say, if you're anxiety-ridden or stressed out, try yoga. I like Rodney Yee's videos, and Shiva Rea is also excellent. If you're wanting a workout, you could try Jillian Michael's "Yoga Meltdown", but it doesn't deliver the same impact (in my opinion). Trudy Styler, wife of Sting, also has a yoga video out that is geared toward weight loss. I prefer that one over Michael's, because it stays closer to the classic yoga poses. If you need yoga gear try your local Barnes & Noble store; they have a good selection of yoga DVDs and mats, as well as the yoga towels, socks and gloves, all in pretty colors. Walmart has some supplies as well, as does Target.

Try yoga, and you won't be sorry, although it does take some time to stretch the muscles. Best feeling ever.

The notoriety of it all.

I've been busy reading. First up on the list was Leslie Carroll's Notorious Royal Marriages, a book I had started before but suspected I hadn't finished. Turns out I did finish it that first time but I couldn't seem to put it down, it was so depressing. Being royal did mean power and money-most of the time-but it also was synonymous with heartache and depression. Henry VIII? Went through six wives and never found true happiness or contentment and worried to his dying day about the state of his soul because of his rift with the Pope (although it seems he never contemplated reversing his decision). Eleanor of Aquitaine, my personal favorite, was imprisoned for fifteen years because her husband, Henry Plantagenet, cheated on her and she had the temerity to be upset by it and to take action. She outlived him, however, and devoted herself to her sons, so I imagine she wasn't completely unhappy (although three of her sons died before she did, including her beloved Richard).

Then there were the modern-day royal marriages. Prince Charles had a girlfriend but she wasn't quite good enough for the royal court (which is rather funny, considering the antics of many of its members, living and dead) so he was instructed to find a proper royal womb. Diana fit the bill, and then millions of people tuned in to watch her walk down the aisle. Problem was, of course, that Charles had no intention of giving up his mistress. Diana could take action, however, something many of her predecessors could not do (although in other courts it seemed to be acceptable to discretely take a lover after the heir was born). She took lovers of her own and then decided to truly get back at the royal family, dishing about all the dirty laundry via the media. I must say I "hurrahed!" at this point, because I rather saw her as standing up for all the other English queens that had no voice (upon consideration I must add that I do not condone that action, but I completely understand why she did it). Then Diana's life came to a crashing halt and Prince Charles was free to marry the love of his life. It appears that there is some friction there, however, because Camilla is finding the life of a royal to be somewhat constricting.

Whew. That was only one modern marriage, but I think it's a good stopping point. That's not the only book I've been reading. I finished Dave Ramsay's The Money Answer Book this morning and my head is brimming full of ideas. It also put to rest most sympathy I had for the "we are the 99%!" protesters who have been sitting around and doing nothing, although they are asking for free money (which is a misnomer, someone is paying for it). Although some undoubtedly are having trouble finding a job I refuse to believe all of them can't find work. Wealth doesn't come easily (unless you inherit), most people have to sacrifice some creature comforts in order to attain it. I think we've (as a country) gotten away from the idea of hard work, pay cash, don't buy things unless you can afford them. I'm always amazed at the people who own nice cars yet live in dump heaps and have cable television yet complain they have no money. You can survive without those things and be happy.

Of course, there is an economic gap, and apparently that is something of concern because a shrinking middle class is not beneficial to an economy. I'm not an economist, neither am I a politician. I am, however, the daughter of an immigrant whose father and mother worked long, excruciating hours at a grocery store to save up enough money to eventually own their own business, several boats, and the latest in electronics and gadgets. On my mother's side I'm the descendant of many people who worked hard, saved hard, and now are wealthy. Right now I work full-time, my husband is ROTC and National Guard and working part-time and, in case that wasn't enough, going for his engineering degree. It's the first semester we haven't taken out loans (although of course that wasn't planned and at first I was really upset by it) and we will survive. Not only that, we will (if we stick to the budget, which is hard to do, I will be the first to admit) be able to put some money into savings. Upon graduation we won't have an increase in our living expenditures, although Damm will be making more than we pull in now. We'll be attacking our school debts, saving up for retirement, for our kids college funds. We don't have cable, we have an old car, we eat lots of rice and beans (although I do include enough variety in our diets to make sure we are healthy and that the kiddos are thriving), we don't go out to eat often and we won't be buying a home until we have enough to plunk a sizable amount of cash down. All that to say: if we can do it and have hope of being debt-free with a comfortable retirement and the ability to assist our kids, so can everyone else.

I will add (because I'm me and can't get away from putting myself in other people's shoes, even when I don't want to) that I don't like people being out on the streets, I don't want kids to go hungry, and I want everyone to find gainful employment. I might have little sympathy with the protesters (who seem to have gone away for the most part) but I do have empathy.

But enough of my sermonizing. Work hard, save hard and give hard. Now "hard" doesn't look like "hard", because I've typed it too many times. Does that happen to anyone else? When you look at a word too long and it looks weird? Anyway, Wulfa out.