annie blog

More From My Space Cadet
Me: So, do you like the smoothie that I made?
C: Mmmm. This tastes like over the rainbow.
Me: Does that mean good….did you make up that phrase, “tastes like over the rainbow”?
C: Yes. That just means that this smoothie tastes blasting good.

I swear that he sees the world from a different angle.

More From My Space Cadet
Me: So, do you like the smoothie that I made?
C: Mmmm. This tastes like over the rainbow.
Me: Does that mean good….did you make up that phrase, “tastes like over the rainbow”?
C: Yes. That just means that this smoothie tastes blasting good.

I swear that he sees the world from a different angle.

More From My Space Cadet
Me: So, do you like the smoothie that I made?
C: Mmmm. This tastes like over the rainbow.
Me: Does that mean good….did you make up that phrase, “tastes like over the rainbow”?
C: Yes. That just means that this smoothie tastes blasting good.

I swear that he sees the world from a different angle.

He’s From a Different Place
I used to make a joke that one of my sons was from Pluto. That we would usually reel him in in order to converse with him, or whatever, but that he would soon be floating back to Pluto, lost in his own little world. He has always had an odd, artistic-type of temperament. And, most of the time, he’s very laid back.

Yesterday, we went to meet his teacher for the coming year. Last year, he had a great teacher, one who was extremely kind to him and understanding of all of his difficulties while still making him toe the line and accomplish things. I was hoping that he would immediately like his new teacher. My first impression of her was very positive but I was wondering what he was thinking.

Me: So, C, what do you think about your teacher for this year?
C: (he was very excited) Oh, I feel really warm when I’m around her!
Me: And, that’s a good thing? (Hoping against all hope…)
C: Oh, yes, Mom. It’s a very good thing.

Whew.

He’s From a Different Place
I used to make a joke that one of my sons was from Pluto. That we would usually reel him in in order to converse with him, or whatever, but that he would soon be floating back to Pluto, lost in his own little world. He has always had an odd, artistic-type of temperament. And, most of the time, he’s very laid back.

Yesterday, we went to meet his teacher for the coming year. Last year, he had a great teacher, one who was extremely kind to him and understanding of all of his difficulties while still making him toe the line and accomplish things. I was hoping that he would immediately like his new teacher. My first impression of her was very positive but I was wondering what he was thinking.

Me: So, C, what do you think about your teacher for this year?
C: (he was very excited) Oh, I feel really warm when I’m around her!
Me: And, that’s a good thing? (Hoping against all hope…)
C: Oh, yes, Mom. It’s a very good thing.

Whew.

He’s From a Different Place
I used to make a joke that one of my sons was from Pluto. That we would usually reel him in in order to converse with him, or whatever, but that he would soon be floating back to Pluto, lost in his own little world. He has always had an odd, artistic-type of temperament. And, most of the time, he’s very laid back.

Yesterday, we went to meet his teacher for the coming year. Last year, he had a great teacher, one who was extremely kind to him and understanding of all of his difficulties while still making him toe the line and accomplish things. I was hoping that he would immediately like his new teacher. My first impression of her was very positive but I was wondering what he was thinking.

Me: So, C, what do you think about your teacher for this year?
C: (he was very excited) Oh, I feel really warm when I’m around her!
Me: And, that’s a good thing? (Hoping against all hope…)
C: Oh, yes, Mom. It’s a very good thing.

Whew.

The Margot Tenenbaum Club
Well, yesterday was interesting — interesting but not for the squeamish. So, if you’re squeamish, please visit again tomorrow and by all means don’t keep reading.

What this is is a tale of stupidity. Yesterday, I was using my food processor to shred up some cabbage to make a coleslaw salad. Food processors are usually a safe way to cut things up. Not my food processor. Years ago, the safety features broke and I asked my techy husband to wire it so that I could use it anyway. All this worked fine until I sliced into my index finger yesterday.

No worries, y’all. I’m okay, although I did come very close to fainting 3 times yesterday — and that’s something new for me. It is kind of a funny feeling, though. Also, I think that I might not be wired up normally because, the finger that was injured didn’t hurt much but the neighboring finger that had no injury did. Isn’t that weird?

There are some really cool bandages for fingers now, y’all. Should you ever need them, my Margot finger has prepared a little show for you….

Sorry for the blurriness of the images…my left hand offers y’all its apologies. And I offer my apologies to all southern mothers for this next image of me sans lipstick. I really should know better about the lipstick.

I’m okay. Now if the accident could cure my stupidity problem it would all be worth it. Unfortunately, I don’t think that problem will ever be truly defeated. I am, however, not stupid enough to change the bandage without Jon around in case the wooziness comes back. I suppose that is a step in the right direction.

The Margot Tenenbaum Club
Well, yesterday was interesting — interesting but not for the squeamish. So, if you’re squeamish, please visit again tomorrow and by all means don’t keep reading.

What this is is a tale of stupidity. Yesterday, I was using my food processor to shred up some cabbage to make a coleslaw salad. Food processors are usually a safe way to cut things up. Not my food processor. Years ago, the safety features broke and I asked my techy husband to wire it so that I could use it anyway. All this worked fine until I sliced into my index finger yesterday.

No worries, y’all. I’m okay, although I did come very close to fainting 3 times yesterday — and that’s something new for me. It is kind of a funny feeling, though. Also, I think that I might not be wired up normally because, the finger that was injured didn’t hurt much but the neighboring finger that had no injury did. Isn’t that weird?

There are some really cool bandages for fingers now, y’all. Should you ever need them, my Margot finger has prepared a little show for you….

Sorry for the blurriness of the images…my left hand offers y’all its apologies. And I offer my apologies to all southern mothers for this next image of me sans lipstick. I really should know better about the lipstick.

I’m okay. Now if the accident could cure my stupidity problem it would all be worth it. Unfortunately, I don’t think that problem will ever be truly defeated. I am, however, not stupid enough to change the bandage without Jon around in case the wooziness comes back. I suppose that is a step in the right direction.

The Margot Tenenbaum Club
Well, yesterday was interesting — interesting but not for the squeamish. So, if you’re squeamish, please visit again tomorrow and by all means don’t keep reading.

What this is is a tale of stupidity. Yesterday, I was using my food processor to shred up some cabbage to make a coleslaw salad. Food processors are usually a safe way to cut things up. Not my food processor. Years ago, the safety features broke and I asked my techy husband to wire it so that I could use it anyway. All this worked fine until I sliced into my index finger yesterday.

No worries, y’all. I’m okay, although I did come very close to fainting 3 times yesterday — and that’s something new for me. It is kind of a funny feeling, though. Also, I think that I might not be wired up normally because, the finger that was injured didn’t hurt much but the neighboring finger that had no injury did. Isn’t that weird?

There are some really cool bandages for fingers now, y’all. Should you ever need them, my Margot finger has prepared a little show for you….

Sorry for the blurriness of the images…my left hand offers y’all its apologies. And I offer my apologies to all southern mothers for this next image of me sans lipstick. I really should know better about the lipstick.

I’m okay. Now if the accident could cure my stupidity problem it would all be worth it. Unfortunately, I don’t think that problem will ever be truly defeated. I am, however, not stupid enough to change the bandage without Jon around in case the wooziness comes back. I suppose that is a step in the right direction.

Spun Gold, Again
I don’t know if you can tell this, but, I really,

really adore

golden

hair.

He doesn’t know about his beautiful hair. If he did know about it, he wouldn’t care. And, I think that there is something beautiful about that, too.