One Thousand Words

Mirrored from Words, words, words, art..

I’m a white woman, and I wear yoga pants. I don’t actually do yoga, but I wear the pants. Sure, sure, I try to explain it away as a medical need. I have a skin condition and if I wear certain fabrics or things that are tight or rub I form abscesses. I’m not joking, btw, this is a real thing that really happens and the best part about being a Stay At Home Parent is wearing pyjama pants more than I wear “real” pants. Oh, and the whole seeing my child grow up first hand thing. But mainly doing something simple (wear soft, loose, cotton pants) that reduces the amount of searing pain and risk of infection in my life.

Anyway.

I’m a white woman, and I wear yoga pants, and I love a lot of things that white women in yoga pants love. Nutella? I’m down! Salted caramel? Put it in my mouth. Wreaths? Bitch please, I love wreaths. Fall? I could write sestinas to the glory of fall, mainly because it’s a welcome break from summers so hot I pray for death and winters so cold I pray for death. Yay fall! Crisp leaves! A snap to the air! Apples! A reasonable electric/gas bill from not having to cool/heat the air! Decorative gourds! Halloween! Etc.

But do you know what one big white woman in yoga pants thing I don’t love?

Pumpkin spice.

Pumpkin spice lattes, pumpkin spice cookies, pumpkin spice bread, pumpkin spice M&Ms, pumpkin spice caramel filled chocolate truffles, pumpkin spice candles and air fresheners and scented oils.

I like pumpkin pie alright and I make a pumpkin cheese cake that’s so good I will fight someone over it.

But regular old pumpkin spice whatevers?

Pretty gross, and make me kind of gag.

I got a pumpkin spice donut and ate it only out of a sense of obligation and a desire to not waste a dollar. It was pretty icky.

I think part of it might be the seasoning mix. Too much allspice, maybe? Cheap ginger? My own pumpkin spice mixture includes fresh grated nutmeg and cardamom.

Or it might be that pumpkin spice things tend to be cloyingly sweet.

And also they just taste gross.

But thanks to PEER PRESSURE I keep trying the FOOD OF MY PEOPLE and it keeps grossing me out, man.

I also don’t like mayonnaise, or cream-cheese-based dips.

I may have to turn in my white-woman-in-yoga-pants card.

Post Footer automatically generated by Add Post Footer Plugin for wordpress.

Nesko has some days where he has to leave the house around 7:00am, and some days where he doesn’t work until the afternoon. On his early days, I stick a frozen breakfast sandwich (that we buy at the store, I haven’t made forays into MAKING breakfast sandwiches. Yet.) in the fridge so it thaws,  then he nukes it before he heads out the door and eats in the car. I  kind of miss the time when he worked afternoons/nights which meant we had breakfast AND a dinner-type meal together every single day (I packed the leftovers for his meal-at-work), even though it meant I did all the bedtimes.

Today Niko happened to be up while Nesko was getting ready to leave. Nesko went out of the kitchen and when he came back in, Niko informed him gravely that “I didn’t eat your sandwich, I only touched it a little bit.” Which makes both of us think that if Nesko had been any later coming back into the kitchen, that sandwich would have been devoured.

Niko’s been a bit weird about food lately, picking at his dinner and then waking up in the morning demanding “food,” (“I  need food! Give me food!”) but then being unclear about what he wants to eat and refusing everything offered except for his vitamins, fruit snacks, or pretzels (I try not to offer the last two as meal options). Or he’ll agree to something then throw a tantrum when it’s given to him because that is not what he waaaaaaaants! Life is so unfaaaaaaaair! See: Bananas.

Oh, speaking of, this is how you know I have a tiny bit of class: I did not videotape Niko lying on his changing table slapping his bare behind rhythmically while singing “I like to poop poop poop apples and bananas!” (to the tune of “I like to eat eat eat apples and bananas”). But you also know I have only a tiny bit of class because I still mention it on my blog. If I were an actual adult with proper feelings and sensitivity I would not have mentioned it at all. But also, probably, nobody would read me.

Technorati Tags: eating, parenting, toddler

Mirrored from Now Showing!.

Mirrored from Words, words, words, art..

I wanted pizza for dinner. I’ll be frank, here. Pizza is my go-to food. I would have to eat a LOT of pizza for a LONG period of time to get tired of pizza. It does not take much pizza for me to literally get sick of pizza, however. As much as I enjoy pizza, I’m lactose intolerant AND have problems digesting more than a small amount of meat, so pizza with, say, cheese and pepperoni or sausage? Wow, that can potentially cause some problems. Oh, onions and garlic also make me sick if I eat more than X amount, and X varies. So basically my most favorite food in the entire world frequently causes me SEARING AGONY AND PRAYERS FOR DEATH.

Welcome to the State Of My Guts post, I guess.

Anyway, I was slightly concerned for a while that I had a problem with a wheat allergy or sensitivity, or celiac or something, because I frequently get sick when I eat pizza and not being able to eat wheat specifically or gluten generally is like a big nightmare for me. But then I realized that I’d eaten a quantity of (home made) (blueberry) muffins today and was fine. So flour is not the problem.

So I walked around my kitchen a little bit, looked in the freezer (no pizza) (I knew there was no pizza and looked anyway, hope springs eternal, ok?), looked in the cabinets, looked in the sink (for what? I don’t know. I just looked.), looked in the freezer again, and then made a sandwich. I had some chili cheese fritos on the side, and now they are all gone.

I really want some more chili cheese fritos.

I think my body is trying to kill me.

Post Footer automatically generated by Add Post Footer Plugin for wordpress.