Queen of Rambles

I love posting in the blog daily, but I am all rambled out. I don’t have time to sit around and day dream and come up with all sorts of weird and deep thoughts. Instead, I spend two hours trying to get Erik down for a nap when all he wants to do is blow raspberries on my belly, then laugh and laugh and laugh. While fun, it is not exactly inspiring blog fodder.

Mike and I are a little worried about the boy because he had a weird little episode last night. He was snoozing away, then he suddenly got up on all fours and started repetitively rubbing his face while shuddering. His eyes were open, but I don’t think he was awake. He finally snapped out of it and started crying, but we both wondered if it was some sort of seizure. I would check with Dr. Google, but I’m not quite sure what keywords would be appropriate. Plus, Dr. Google is scary and almost always wrong.

I had a really stupid moral dilemma that I was going to post about, but it was so stupid that I can’t even remember what it was. My brain is a sieve these days. I bought a big fill-in-the-blank working calendar to try to keep me organized. I bought a set of markers so everything could be color coded. I painstakingly filled in October. I was clever and drew a lopsided pumpkin to illustrate Halloween. I was going to be organized and proper and have a game plan for life in general and get things done.

I have no idea what happened to the calendar or my markers. I know I never filled in November’s dates. No wonder I can’t get anything done or remember my crazy moral dilemmas that most people would probably scoff at. I think only people who have too much time and money have the ability to guilt themselves into not doing things that most people think are totally normal. Just the other day I picked up a new magazine called “Wonder Time” and I enjoyed it enough that I considered subscribing since the subscriptions were super cheap. The magazine had a lot of neat ideas for games to play with kids, though none of them were really baby appropriate. I especially liked the idea of freezing water in old yogurt and butter containers, then taking the blocks of ice outside and making snow castles in the winter. It also had a neat idea for making an easy Christmas ornament: get two Ziploc bags, fill one with glue, and the other with glitter. Stick a metal cookie cutter in the glue, shake it around, then dip it in glitter. Ta da! Fancy, sparkly ornament! The projects seemed a lot more realistic than projects found in other parenting magazines and most of the pictures were of the writers’ various children. There was no fashion spread. Basically, it was good. Not great. Certainly not on par with “Brain, Child,” but possibly not horrible.

Then I saw it was published by Disney. I cringed and threw it from my body like it was made of hot coal. I am so stupid. I like Disney movies even if they totally ruin stories. I want to be a princess and wear a tiara. Why do I feel dirty when I admit that I like Disney things? I just know that people say Disney is bad and I don’t even know why. What is so wrong with subscribing to a magazine put out by the Disney company? Ok, so I sort of do know what the problem is. They have commercialized the magic of childhood. Instead of letting kids make tiaras out of construction paper, they can buy cheap plastic tiaras with the ugly Disney princess faces plastered all over it. Nothing is left to the imagination anymore. They make video games for tiny tots! It just disgusts me and makes me sick and I don’t want to inadvertently exploit my child by making a glitter covered star cookie cutter.

See, it is ridiculous. I wish everyone was so lucky that they had to worry about the ethics behind the magazines they purchase. Wouldn’t that be a beautiful world? No war, no hunger, no poverty, no murder. . . just good and magazine companies.

I really have no idea what I’m talking about. I think I better go to bed and try to get some sleep tonight. I feel like I haven’t slept in three weeks. I even have dark splotches under my eyes and despite my general self-loathing in regards to my appearance, dark splotches just aren’t something I usually have. Once my tooth is finally fixed maybe I can sleep. It isn’t hurting like it did before the pulpotomy, but if I touch it, brush it or use it to chew pain zings right up through my mouth and into my brain. Fun for everyone!

This entry was posted on Wednesday, November 29th, 2006 at 8:35 pm and is filed under Uncategorized. You can follow responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. Both comments and pings are currently closed.