The aforementioned doughnut obsession

I haven't had a doughnut in 8 months.
These are the types of things I miss when I'm out of the country. The more I think about it, the more I want one. The things I try to avoid like the plague at home suddenly become the most craved when in a gastronomically diverse environment.
Sad really. I mean, this isn't to say that I wouldn't also love quinoa, or a good homemade salad with all my favorite fixings on it, but there's just nothing like an American doughnut. Even if it doesn't taste as good as I thought it would before I ate it. For some reason, they always seem to dissapoint, but I always want another one eventually.
Here's the catch. 8 months with no doughnut- 3 months with easy access but good self control, and 4 months with zero access and ever mounting delusions of deliciousness, ending in one month of access but putting it off to try and eat healthily, then finding out that I have Psoriasis and CAN'T EAT THEM!
N'uff said. This is silly.

Up way too late pondering doughnuts,

~Momrit

A sandwich, a toddler, and a very poor decision.

First of all, I'd like to take a moment to pat myself on the back for keeping up with my lifelong tradition of abandoning any writing project I start for months at a time. Yes, good job me. I said I wouldn't with my blog, but I did it anyway. Woot.
Now that the formalities are out of the way, I will attempt to justify and excuse my absence and delinquency to writing by telling you the story of what happened shortly after I stopped writing due to apathy and a lot of outer circumstances.

Once upon a time (about 7 months ago), we took a trip to India. I brought my computer, thinking of the convenience, and how much writing I could (not) get done. It also happened to have Baby Signing Time (TM?) stored on it, which was a major plus. One fine day, a few weeks into our trip, I began to feel a craving for some good ole' American food, so I went to the newly opened Subway restaurant in the heart of Punjab (renowned for its delicious Indian cuisine) and ordered a foot long cheese sandwich. Perhaps some of you know what it is like to tire of the local fare, no matter how delicious it is. It is just something that happens after one spends enough time abroad, and it must be dealt with or it will turn into some sort of doughnut obsession (more on that coming soon). Aaannyway, I opted to bring my slice of home, home with me to covet and enjoy rapturously alone in my room and then put my daughter to sleep for her nap. I will regret that poor choice possibly for years to come.
Of course by the time I arrived back home, my dear little one was prime for her nap and as I brought her upstairs, I decided to let her watch her Signing Time whilst I indulged in my sandwich. I reasoned that another 5 to 10 minutes of wakefulness wouldn't hurt, and that I could avoid letting my sandwich get soggy while I laid with her for an hour and a half trying to get her to roll over and let me go.
So I turned on my laptop, set it on our flat topped laundry bucket (about 2.5 feet off the floor), and switched on an episode of her favorite show. I then turned my attention to satisfying my hunger and enjoying cheese sandwichy bliss- I had turned away for a mere split second, when I saw out of the corner of my eye my daughter reach for the computer. I told her not to touch the keyboard, and out of spite she slapped it and it fell- seemingly in slow motion and hit the floor on its side, still playing. I had lunged out to try and catch it but was too late. My very expensive piece of technology now lay on its side, screen twitching and displaying a worrying sequence of red lines, all the while making a clicking sound like a broken record. DOOM! DOOM! DOOOOOOOOM!!!
And all for a sandwich.
The emotions welled up like a flash flood- anger, rage, exasperation, self-loathing, despair, self-pity, incredulity, shock- I knew it was all my fault, and I could not, and did not turn my slew of moods on my child. She knew not what she had done.
I had hope- a glimmer of hope that all was not lost.
I tried closing the program. No response. I force-quit, and opened iPhoto, I perused my photographs (possibly for the last time). It seemed to do O.K. but something wasn't right. I finally had to force-quit everything, and then shut it down, for good. My hard drive had crashed. It was the end. Everything was gone- evaporated like the morning dew on a hot sunny day.
Alas, you think to yourself- all was not lost, for surely I had backed up my data onto a hard drive of some sort?
Almost. Procrastination had gotten the better of me. Let me leave it at that, for it is still a sore subject. Pictures of our daughter's first day in this world (cruel as it can be), pictures of our dog which had recently passed away, home footage of our daughter's first steps... all lost...

Kick myself? Oh, you can believe I did. After I was done wallowing in self pity and crying for half an hour. Yes. I am that much of a dork, I cried over a broken hard drive. But who wouldn't in this day and age? So much of our lives is stored digitally, we almost don't have to remember things anymore. It's a precarious path to walk.

Convenience = Eventual Devastation.

After a few days, when I was able to think rationally, my husband took me to have my computer checked out. Luckily* it was only the hard drive, and once replaced, I would be able to use my computer again. Months later, we returned from India and I was able to re-install my operating system and begin using my computer. Pictures backlogged on my phone from months of travel finally had a destination. This time, I backed everything up. The first day.
Since this whole experience befell me (through stupid moves of my own doing) I have become somewhat of an advocate for data backup, and I would like to think that I have made a difference in the lives of others (mom, dad) in saving them from a terrible, similar fate.

So, that is the long excuse, or at least part of it, for why I abandoned my blog for nearly half a year. I hope to thwart myself and keep on writing- at least for a while this time.

And the moral of the story is: Never let a tasty sandwich take priority over nap time, or the safety of your electronics. Even if you are afraid it will get soggy.
It's a tragic and expensive lesson.




Back again,

~Momrit

*Alas, it really could have been worse, if one can imagine such a thing.

More coming soon...

I am packing our suitcases for a big adventure. Each time I turn around the contents are all over the floor! My little "helper" is doing her job as I try to do mine. There will be tales from the road very soon, so thanks for reading and keep checking back!

Love to all,
~Momrit

Spit out that Crayon...NOW!

Though my formal schooling is coming to a close, I am finding that my Education is just beginning. This is the type of education where you may never know what grade you will get, or if your blood sweat and tears paid off. This education springs new subjects and curriculums upon you at the most unexpected times, sometimes piled on top of one another and it is literally a sink or swim type classroom all of the time.
One of the beloved terrors of big kid school is the slow discovery of how toxic the world is to oneself and one's family. There really seems to be danger or toxicity at every turn, and sometimes it is too late before you find out (and that's often just by chance).
Just today I was halfheartedly telling my toddler to stop sucking on the crayons!
I say halfheartedly because I figured, well they can't be that bad... just wax and paper. The most I worried was that she could trip and choke or something of immediate consequence, but she is a generally well coordinated child who doesn't swallow objects- just tastes them. Fast forward to bedtime after she drifts off to sleep and I am browsing the web on my phone before bed. On Facebook I am reading a comment about amniocentesis tests and there is mention about cadmium and mercury in crayons. WAIT- WHAAAT??!! Dang it! Is there nothing sacred left in this world? Not even 'ye old crayon is safe anymore?? Of course this prompted an immediate research project about poison crayons which (long story short) indicated only certain colors contained these substances (Indigo, Blue Violet, Red Violet and Violet), but that many and most pigments used are not healthy to be exposed to, and that most crayons are made of paraffin wax -a petroleum product- that is also not healthy to have in contact with one's skin a lot. I did manage to find some momma-made 100% natural beeswax crayons with pure and non-toxic pigments, but sadly the array of colors was limited to 5. What? No "macaroni n' cheese" color? Lol, it's probably radioactive anyway...

So, will I go and throw away our crayons tomorrow? Probably not. I hate throwing things away (unless they are moldy or have been cluttering up a desk for too long), and I see value in using crayons, but I will say that no more crayons are going in the mouth of my baby and I may be anal enough to remove the violet, indigo, blue violet, and red violet. Life lasts a long time (in the best case scenario), and I would rather have incomplete rainbow drawings hanging on the fridge than find out that I have inadvertently exposed my dear one to toxic substances in the guise of scribbling.

I found another mother's blog who had better information which can be seen at: http://mommax6.blogspot.com/2012/08/mercury-in-crayola-crayons.html for those who are concerned about the crayons. 

Happy coloring,

~Momrit

Memo to Mom

Hi Mom.
In case you haven't noticed, I'm teething. I know you have been racking your brain for legitimate reasons for me to have no appetite, whine all the time, pull at your clothing, put non-edibles in my mouth, and scream at the slightest offense. I just made it easy and told you. Now you can take a deep breath and reassess how you are dealing with me. Usually I have no complaints (besides being forced to wear clothes), but as of late, I would like to point out some of your behavioral flaws.
Firstly, when I am busy doing something fun like tasting the refrigerator magnets or stuffing my cheeks with pistachio shells like a squirrel, do not start your address with, "NO!!!!" it really sends the wrong message, and quite frankly rubs me the wrong way. This is why I reply with an earsplitting scream and as pouty of a face as I can muster.
Secondly, when I make my most injured face (the one where you can see all eight of my teeth) do not start to laugh. I don't care if it's some sort of therapeutic release from exasperation or if you just need a good slap, just don't do it. So bad for my budding sense of self esteem. Just because I can go from smiles to baby troll face in milliseconds does not mean that you shouldn't immediately adjust your handling of the situation. Now I know a common belief among you adult people is that if a poor baby (like myself) is not shedding tears, then its not an urgent situation, but let me just dispel that awful notion from your head. In fact, sometimes a non-tear situation is even more dire than bonking my head on the table when I stand up underneath it. And yes, I knew the table top was there... I just forgot momentarily. I cried because I was embarrassed- not shocked. You see, a non-tear situation could be as simple as me wailing at your knees because you were handling "hot" things in the kitchen and refused to pick me up even after I demanded "Up, UPPPPF" twenty three times in varying degrees of insistence/distress. I actually had to wait there on the floor for all of 6 minutes whilst you puttered around making food that I was about to vehemently reject anyway.
While I am thinking about food, I wanted to remind you not to bother to make any for me because I won't eat it anyway. I am so repelled by the thought right now that I have to go drink some bathwater (sans bubbles please- I've had gas lately).
Also, you should know that your conduct yesterday was utterly deplorable. We were in a public place, and you dared to try and get me to eat. I don't care that you ordered me my very own Quesadilla with a side of beans and Spanish rice. Did I ask for it? NO (just learned that word- so handy). I didn't even ask for your strawberry cheesecake. What, you think that because you willfully withhold sweets from me that I'll immediately cave and eat them when offered?! Do you even know me?!
That you had the heart to let Papa smear some on my lips to get me to taste it was a real slap in the face! I hope you enjoyed watching me sputter away every minuscule particle and then spew some drool out just for good measure. You must have, because I noticed you couldn't stop laughing even after Papa advised you against it. You claimed to have been laughing with me but did you see my face? It was not laughing. Not hungry means (say it with me now) "NOT HUNGRY". I thought they taught this stuff in Parent-Ed. Oh wait- that is a course scattered throughout a myriad of websites and support groups on the internet- many of which aren't helpful at all and disperse bad advice and recipes.

So I have an idea. Why don't you go eat some chocolate and do some jumping jacks- I'm thinking of having a chocolate milkshake later. Oh, was that too crude? I didn't think so, I mean I am talking to the one who voluntarily evaluates the properties of my scat every day...

One of Those Days...

There are some days when I realize about half way through that I just should have stayed in bed. Not that that's a viable option, but it's the thought that counts, right? The kind of day when you are already starting at a disadvantage because your teething toddler isn't sleeping well, your left ring finger is swollen and itchy from the lone ranger mosquito flying around your room, and you forgot to braid your hair at night and now it may just be easier to continue on the path to having dreadlocks. As the morning progresses, smaller and yet still annoying mishaps keep occurring. Lets just say that the open box of Cheerios should have a big fat arrow that says, "this side up dummy!" so that you don't have to sweep the breakfast you could have eaten into the trash. This is also the day that you turn on the tap for the bathtub and get an uninvited cold shower. Or it could be the day that the (insert favorite food here) you were saving to fully enjoy once the little one is soundly snoozing is no longer in existence when you finally get to it. It may also be the day that something you are so proud that you did has come undone and blown up in your face. At any rate, if these days came marked in any way, I would be sure to heed the warning and promptly return to bed as my toddler begins flinging toys and clothing about the room to her satisfaction. These days would be prescribed special never before seen episodes of Sesame Street and Milo and Otis in order to maintain a manageable level of safe activity. Snacks would be pre-prepared the day before as to avoid char-broiled grilled cheese sandwiches and the lazy mom special- pasta with butter and Parmesan. Netflix would be streaming all day on the phone as I laze about in bed and eat chips.
After the day of hazards has passed, it is now safe to draw a bubble bath, read "Spot goes Splash" and proceed with the evening routine. Tomorrow is another day, and if you're not too bleary-eyed in the morning, you might just manage to pour the cereal out of the right end of the box.

Cheer(io)s,

~Momrit

Momrit's Recipe for Whirled Peas (say it out loud)

     I will start by saying that I am certainly not a follower of the news in any way. I may collide with it on occasion as it is thrust in my face by someone who thinks I absolutely must know, but frankly, I get along just fine without it. Yes, there are (at least) two very different schools of thought on whether people should keep themselves up with the news, but I usually find it to be the same old stories any time I check in:

• The world political situation is in a dire state
• There is some country or another which has been neglected by the “worlds’ eye” for years and has suddenly come into the spotlight as corrupted and oppressive to its people
• Some celebrity or another is getting married/divorced(again), fat, pregnant, cheated on etc...
• Some small country is trying to buff up its arsenal (nuclear or what have you)
• The big countries are wagging their fingers at the little one saying they can’t buff their arsenal (because we’re the cool kids and only we can have those toys)
• America has its dirty fingers in someone else’s oil (or is thinking about it)
• Hundreds of thousands of people go starving and without education and healthcare
• And for a change of pace, there are some do gooders out there trying to make a difference so we put them on TV to make sure people don’t think its all bad news.
• Pet story, a sweet dog was rescued by a brave fireman which melts all of our hearts upon seeing the footage and helps to smooth over the creases that the bad news put into our day.

    It seems that it has been this way for as long as I can recall (which pales in comparison to some), and I am sure it has been the case long before my own arrival. So, my choice to live without TV and its insidious advertising and saddening news just reflects my wish to have a little influence over my daily environment. Even without TV and radio and reading the news online, I still heard about 9/11. That was a big one- there was no way to escape hearing of it. I figure if something really big happens, the news will find me but I need not seek it out.
    I know what many of you must be thinking. How ignorant! How naive! Perhaps even how stupid! How can I possibly participate in the world as a whole if I have no idea what’s going on? Well, there are only two things in this life that I can control. I can control my own actions to things, and I can control my own reactions to things. I cannot control what the world leaders do, but I can manage what I do in return in whatever small way that is (ahem, boycott Monsanto). It is my firm belief that if people spent more time focusing on what good they can do with their reactions on a small level, then it would have an overwhelmingly positive affect on the entire world scale.

    If each person could just start with themselves- for example, I failed a test. Instead of reacting badly and cursing myself or putting myself down, I could choose to react in a positive loving way. I could choose to love myself enough to do better next time so that I could feel a sense of pride and accomplishment and so that I could proceed and excel in my life. Most people are stuck there. They aren’t present enough
to react well to themselves, and so any reactions or actions toward the outer world are no better than they can deal with themselves.
    The next challenge is acting and reacting lovingly and understandingly toward one’s family. This is where many more of us are stalled. It is so difficult! And that is definite truth! It is not easy to always be kind and mindful of others and for them to do the same for us. So if we cannot help but argue and fight and put-down or clash egos within our own families with people of our own blood, how on Earth can we expect cities and states and countries and governments to get along well?

    The only answer I have is that we have to try, and starting on the most basic level- ourselves. For nothing changes unless we change from within. Once we plant that seed inside our hearts, those around us can see the flowers begin to bloom, and upon seeing such a beautiful garden, the hope is that it will inspire others to cultivate their own, until, one by one, the whole world has changed and we can direct our lives and societies and civilization and planet from a place of wholeness instead of fragmentation. I believe once that happens, a change so brilliant will be in front of us that we will all but forget the old ways of selfishness and enemies and we will see and treat the Earth as the heaven that it was meant to be for us and all creatures.

Amen Halleluja etc etc!

~Momrit  ;)

P.S. I hope it doesn’t take 500 years...though it seems it easily could.