Browsing all posts in March, 2009.
Entropy Cannot Be Allowed to Win
Entropy, the second law of thermodynamics tells us, is the tendency of any system to gravitate toward disorder, unless energy is put into that system.
My personal entropy trap is in my middle-age spread.
The “Now, Johnny” Syndrome
The “Now, Johnny” Syndrome is affectionately named for an eight-year old who picked a fight with a plate-glass window while I was in medical school.
He was okay. He only had minor, surface lacerations. Which is how I got stuck with Johnny. If he had been more badly injured, he would have gone upstairs to surgery, where they would have sedated him FIRST THING. But, since my surgery resident was really, really busy sewing up a guy who got knifed in a fight, and then the guy who knifed the first guy, and then the guy who shot the second guy, Johnny was mine.
Sunday Rehash–Pregnancy Rots Your Brain
The hormones of pregnancy, I discovered, kick in very fast. I know this, because seconds after announcing that I was, indeed, pregnant, I became a complete imbecile. While moments before, I was a smart, competent professional, my husband now knew that I needed him to take care of me. I was unable to make even the smallest decision without his input.
It isn’t really his fault. The testosterone that runs the male brain starts screaming, “protect.” Feminism runs headlong into ten thousand years of social and biological evolution, and loses, every time.
The Geeks Shall Inherit the Earth
As the parent of four self-professed, proud and loud geeks, I can tell you that it’s a GREAT time to be a geek.
(BTW: “Geek” is currently preferred to “nerd.” Nerds are the fools who can’t make it in the real world. Geeks are the guys who don’t care to.)
Geeks are currently being celebrated in the popular culture. My kids can watch TV shows like Mythbusters and Chuck. Heroes and role models who wield brains and the scientific method. COOL.
Baby’s First Words….Umh…
Designed to tug at the heartstrings of every new parent, the first words out of a baby’s mouth (and I mean words, not screeches) are eagerly anticipated by the entire household.
Somewhere around a year, the new child learns that he can attach sounds to items.
Moms and dads lean close, and wait to hear that magic word, “Lawnmower.”
Conversations with School Nurses
I never picked up a kid from school unless they: were bleeding uncontrollably and really needed stitches (twice), actually broke a bone (twice), REALLY had a concussion (once), or were so visibly sick that they couldn’t go back to class. The latter happened fairly rarely, as, being the careful mom with a microbiology background that I am, I DIDN’T SEND THEM WHEN THEY WERE SICK.
Slave Labor & Selective Hearing Loss
One of the unexpected benefits of the economic slowdown (meltdown?) is that my over-privileged children are having to do a little work around here.
Not to say that we haven’t always expected certain chores of them. They do their own laundry, and clean their own rooms (yeah, right. What that means is that MOM DOESN’T.)
Was that a Vacation??? Damn…(or: what I’ve been doing for two weeks)
As I have been repeatedly pointing out, I was on vacation for the last two weeks.
So? What have I been doing, if I haven’t been writing?
My youngest son was Bar Mitzvah last weekend.
For those of you unfamiliar with this Jewish rite of passage, at the age of 13, Jewish boys are considered responsible for their actions, and for obeying the commands of the Torah. As a symbol of this new requirement, the Bar Mitzvah leads the congregation in a Torah service.
Yes, it’s a lovely idea.
But in America, the Bar Mitzvah has come to mean not the man-child, but the festivities surrounding it.
There Will Be Blood
When my kids were little, my husband wasn’t around a lot. He was trying to build a patient base in a two man practice. My kids and I went everywhere together, alone. People would look at me and see all these kids without a father and ask me if I was a single parent. The [...]
Someone Get Me a Scorecard!
You can please some of the people some of the time, except at the dinner table.
On child won’t eat cured pork products. One won’t eat chicken, unless it’s fried. One doesn’t like the texture of fish. One likes carrots, but not peas. One likes peas, but not broccoli. One will eat broccoli, but only the very tip-tops of the florets.
And just when you think you have it all figured out, it all CHANGES. Now THIS one is allergic to chicken, and THAT one won’t eat broccoli.
