Thinking

I could never be a restaurant owner because there are people on this earth who DO NOT THINK AVOCADOS ARE DELICIOUS.

Time Time Time Time Time

The other Dooce published this post about dreading the weekend.  While I am working hard to keep things light on my little slice of the internet, her post really resonated with me.  These lines actually bolded themselves just for my benefit and then began flashing in a series of un-ignorable shades of pink:

...it's hard for me to sit still knowing there are a million projects I could be working on.

I can start to feel the anxiety creep up early Friday morning, and by dinner time I'm pacing.

  

Because slowing down doesn't feel right. In fact, it makes me sick.

I urge you to read her post and as many of the hundreds of comments as you can, especially if you also have an inexplicable dread of downtime.

I have that dread.  I start making plans for the weekend by Tuesday.  I have to. Or my head will explode.  Weeknights can be like this too. I cut back my hours at work so I could devote more time to helping my daughter with her homework and also to offer her more downtime at the end of the day. All that did was make me feel like a failure as a parent. It is ridiculously difficult for me to focus on the things that Emily likes to do for fun.  How can I pretend to be a mermaid pet-shop owner who sells horses when there is laundry to fold and a thick layer of pollen dust on all the furniture? How can I keep up with the ever-changing rules of playing secret agent when my brain is full of what needs to be done for dinner tonight and lunch tomorrow? Also, these games are boring for me.  And hard. Evidently I've lost my imagination. And all this umimagitiveness, boredom, and inability to focus, not to mention Emily's frustration, has made me feel awful.

My best solution is to set a timer on my activities both with Emily and about the house.  Somehow knowing I have such-and-such time to do such-and-such thing gives me better ability to focus on the task at hand. I alternate Emily, house, Emily, house. This has the added benefit of helping Em learn to entertain herself. Still, it feels unfair to all involved despite it lessening my anxiety a bit.

I know so many of my friends are talented and dedicated parents.  Any suggestions for me?

Going and coming and some stuff in between

Once again I disappeared from the blogosphere for a while.  Two weeks actually.And what exactly have I been doing with myself, you ask?

Well back in March you can see where Honey helped me fill one of these:

And on April 1 Emily and I enjoyed five hours of a view like this:

Then we spent some time with these cats:

And had lots of giggles along with this crowd:

 I also squeezed in some good eats with the fam, the fam-in-law, Katie W., Mindy H., Kevin H., Amy  and 3/4 of the Wests before dedicating myself to some serious outlet shopping.

Then, I collected Em for another few hours of:

 

and

before being met at the airport by this guy:

!!!!!!!!!

So you'll have to forgive me if I seem a little preoccupied over the next month. Don't worry, though.  I've been busy and I'll be back to tell you all about it.

Bath bag

After a stint of pretty consistent posting you may have noticed a couple of week-long absences in the month of March.  What could I have been up to? I'm so glad you asked. Remember here when I told you about Ashley? Well she made this so I got inspired to make this:

Feel free to judge me for the bath crayon still not washed off of the shower wall. And then you can pat me on the back.  I know Emily did.  She loves it!

Emily!

Emily loves to play pretend.  What five-year-old doesn't?  The best part of Emily's pretend world sounds like this:
"Okay, mama, I called the plumber. He'll be here in ten second."

Oh Emily, if only.

Question I have no idea how to answer

"Why do I have to wear pretty panties when you don't want anyone to ever see them?"

Calling all green thumbs!

My grandmother is an amazing gardener.  Even living in El Paso, Texas that woman can take a seed, put it in the ground, water it and get a beautiful plant.  Do you know what I get when I put a seed in some dirt and water it?  A muddy seed. Sometimes I think it might be a rock. Way back in February I bought ginger root for a cooking adventure.  The recipe called for, I think, a tablespoon of grated ginger root but that gnarled sucker could have probably given me about 4 cups.  So, I plunked it into a pot recently vacated by what might have once been aloe vera. Imagine my surprise when I ended up with this:

That sucker is now almost two feet tall. So now what do I do with it? Can it stay in the pot?  Do I put it in something bigger? Amy? Emily?  Anybody who can get horticultural results other than a muddy rock want to weigh in here?