Ebony and Ivory

Isn't it nice in today's world to see a Mac and PC living in harmony together.

Albeit from opposite sides of the table.

Checklist

Scooter: check.

Helmet: check.

Tail: check.

Letter to Santa in right pocket: check check.

The Love Between a Mother and Son

So, last night I put my son to bed. We snuggled on the couch watching Cheetah vs Leopard on Animal Planet. Then we brushed our teeth and moved to his bed to snuggle and read a few stories.

Rather than have me read a book, he asked me to tell him a story. So I made up a story about a cheetah and leopard that were fighting about who got to eat his stomach and bellybutton (long story). Then our cat, Ebers, stepped in and saved my son (I did not add that the reason Ebers was so anxious to save him from the predators was that she's planning to eat his face some night when I forget to feed her . . . )

After that touching story, my son asked me to sing him a song. I started singing a sweet lullaby. He snuggled even furthing into my shoulder and I couldn't help but think that this exact moment is what makes parenting worthwhile.

I was almost done with the song when he sweetly interupted me: "Mommy?"

"What, Baby?"

"Mommy, remember that time you were wearing that dress and your boob fell out?"

The little creep was thinking about my boobs the whole time.

Yummy

Coffee and toothpaste . . .

My favorite way to start the day.

All that is missing is a phone call from the one I love most. Or just his arms wrapped around me.

I'm not picky.

Right Now . . .

I hate my undergrad.

He's sitting over there, looking obtuse on purpose. Not doing work. Ignoring my tirade about the importance of keeping lab notes in a lab notebook. Not doing work Losing research results and wasting money and time. Lab money. My time.

Did I mention not doing work?

While I am busting my ass (yes, I was actually working before I posted this. And will return to work in 5 . . . 4 . . . 3 . . . 2 . . . 1).

White Out

The world disappeared last night while I was sleeping. Outside my window in an impenetrable wall of white. It's cold. Disconcerting. Yet it makes me feel loved.

My friend once told me that the marine layer was the wrapping around the gift of the bay given just to me. And that I would have to slowly unwrap it as the day progressed. Now whenever I see a white-out outside my window, I get a little burst of joy.

Like this morning.

Because I get to watch the bay unwrap itself from the marine layer's shroud of gauze and tulle, revealing a gift just for me.

Thank you, friend.

I Don't Care What You Think or Say

My son is the cutest kid. Ever.

I know some of you delusional parents or people with kids in your family are going to try to disagree with me.


But.

Give.

It.

Up.


My son is the cutest--as well as the most amazing child--that has ever lived. And he eats his vegetables!

I'm sorry for your loss. But I must speak the truth.