Suicide Bunny

Two days ago, as I was grasping my two year old in an attempt to not drop her while I was tripping, falling and slamming my body into the door -- saving her while sacrificing myself as I gently placed her down -- scaring her nonetheless as I lost control over my own limbs which were then flailing completely out of control -- hitting the ground and causing pretzels to fly everywhere... I caught a glimpse of the bunny in the sideyard, nibbling the grass. I thought briefly about how the series of bad things happens in multiples while not necessarily reflecting any kind of severity level. Because earlier in the day a mini, yet still heavy fire extinguisher had fallen from one of the lower shelves at the mini-mart car wash and landed on my big toe. Today all of the bruises from two days ago are a nice shade of purple. 

 

But that doesn't even touch on the absurdity of events. Yesterday morning, waking up the computer that has become an extension of my body, a loud hum. Not unlike the sound my five year old makes when he doesn't want to get out of bed. This was bad. Very bad. And while it did wake up eventually and perform normally -- last night it happened again. So here I type, from my laptop, while I await the diagnosis which could be terminal. This machine that I've held hands with since 2006.

Since 2006, hundreds if not thousands of bunnies have run in front of my car while I come and go down our driveway. Millions. I imagine this to be a right of passage into the world of bunny stardom. They sit on one side of the drive -- see me coming -- hold -- and then hop off racing across right in front of me while I slam on the breaks. No dead bunnies here. Hello - - KIDS in the car. But even still -- there were no kids in 2006. They didn't start appearing until 2007. Along with a boat load of other goods, awesomes and bads that have come and gone since that fateful year when I met  my computer. This blog. My design firm. Friends. Relatives. Children. Natural Disasters. Deadbeat Presidents. Money. Love. Hate. Peace. YOU NAME IT. 2006. Epic even despite the bunnies. A personal relationship with a machine that has watched me everyday from it's giant monitor may be coming to a very abrupt end... And it might even happen today. Playing chicken on my driveway -- regardless of the floppy ears, uncanny ability to hop and giant feet. Bunny you might be.

A Few Too Many...

Driving Will to school this morning I watched a man turn his weed whacker on with one hand while attempting to put his protective ear phones on with his other hand. This failed miserably, and while I sat waiting for the light to turn green, he dropped the weed whacker and his head phones, swore loudly and spit on the ground -- thus losing control over the cigarette hanging out of his mouth which was landing on his shirt. As I pulled away from the scene he was still fumbling to accomplish something without much success.

I then turned the corner to another red light which landed my gaze on another man who was walking while attempting to pull something out of his pocket. This benign action would have otherwise gone unnoticed but while trying to pull one item out he instead pulled his entire pocket out... Thus dropping gobs of everything that was in it to begin with. Catching my eye, his face turned red from it's original pink and he exclaimed, "A FEW TOO MANY", to which I gave a pathetic 'I'm so sorry' smile while interpreting the many meanings behind "a few too many". Pulling away, he was on his knees collecting his bits of this and that and I thought.. Some people just shouldn't multi-task.

Which brings me to now. While sitting here, with my newly redesigned blog that holds years upon years of almost daily observations. I like blogging. Which is why I do it. It's that simple. I've been doing this since 2008 -- see -- just look at that list down over there -- and just closing in on the snooze button otherwise known as FIVE YEARS. Is that right? I mean HOW is that possible. AND, you've been here too. Amazeballs.

I've been tiptoeing around this new design... so delicate. I keep looking at it and looking at it until now when I'm like ALRIGHT ALREADY. Put your tongue back in your mouth and DO SOMETHING. Nothing is broken anymore... AND it's way more fun without bogus ads that detract and don't really do anything. And I get to share Instagram >>> right over there. Obsessed. Completely obsessed.

It's simple while the old was so complicated and doing way TOO MUCH. Nonsense. Bells. Whistles. And, given your own interpretation, "a few too many".

The Meat Eating Vegan Part IV

For those of you that have been reading this blog for a long time, you are aware of my son Will's food allergies. They first appeared to us when he was 4-months old at which time we were told to never expose him to the allergens -- cow's milk, eggs, peanuts, tree-nuts, bananas and strawberries. An Epi-Pen, which we have never had to use, was prescribed even though the worst reaction we had seen was eczema. Still, Will carries the Epi with him in his backpack almost everywhere he goes—who knows if or what a reaction would be now... Annoying, like a skin rash.. Or scary and life-threatening with anaphylactic shock. Inevitably I fell into a pit of fear that -- for the past five years, has not only made me rather manic about everything Will does but has also led to an obsessive education in regards to food. I have to catch myself when talking about this situation and the state of what we eat and are doing to our food-supply... Here in the world-leading nation... GMOs or GEs -- Genetically modified anythings that, after years of research, I entirely blame Will's allergies on. I sound crazy, even though professionals are also saying it... Lord knows what my eyes look like as my blood pressure ignites. I can just hear the thoughts of the other parents -- Here she comes, that anti-nut activist and her non-egg, tupperware full of non-milk-fat chocolate chip cookies. WATCH OUT and don't even MENTION SHELF-LIFE!!!! As they run for cover....

Managing all of this has not been fun, as you can imagine. Cheese is a problem. As are cows and chickens. Will's sister, it seems, is not allergic to any foods at this point, and loves to eat just about anything you offer. (I became allergic to shellfish at 25.. as did my 30-something sister... although she might just be copying me. GET YOUR OWN ISSUES!) Even still, however, I am cautious -- reading the PLU codes on all veggies and fruit to make sure that, if not actually organic, at the very least conventionally grown. Corn syrup too, as you know is the devil. Totally modified. But you see what I mean. TOO MUCH INFO, thanks Ryan. We hear you -- which is why we are looking at our feet and backing away. By the way, and I am yelling at you now... If the number 8 is at the beginning of the PLU code it's been GENEROUSLY MODIFIED. If you eat it you might grow an ear on your shoulder and arms out of your cheek-bones. Food allergies and, AHEM, cancer are only the beginning. Thanks to the Monosato Company and the other human haters of the world. Webbed feet are no joke. And neither are tails on people.

But I know. He will grow out of it, hopefully. And it is only food we are talking about here. He's already lower on most of the allergens than in years past and has out-grown the bananas and strawberries. The others, however... The hard ones remain and we aren't "there-yet" on the scale of food challenges. In the beginning, out of efforts to remain normal...if there is such a thing in these circumstances, I started making food for Will. Baking. Cooking. Freezing. You name it. I started a website, Will's Kitchen, if you remember which we had a great time with... we made up and converted recipes... took pictures.. internetted... I made him a part of tasting and making all of the things that he could eat -- and he was trying most things. Honestly, he loved it. I gained 5-7 pounds. And then things changed. Was it the arrival of his baby sister? Was it the constant fear lingering above my eye-brows when I dropped him off at school? Was it my overbearing enthusiasm to get him to try new things (probably)? Who knows. But this very intelligent little boy decided to stop trying any and all new foods that I put in front of him. He even cut several things out of his diet that I thought he liked. Suddenly, he only wanted the same thing with very minor alternatives. I lost way more than 5-7 pounds. And this is where we have been since months before our last posting on Will's Kitchen—August 27th 2012.

(As lights go down on Will's Kitchen)

I've decided, however, to keep trying (cue the curtains and that guy with the microphone). Now that Will's sister is a little older and also seems to be interested in making things to eat it can be a family thing. Who knows what is up with Will -- is it food textures? Is it a real issue like Neophobia (I don't think so) or is he just stubborn and picky? His nutrition is something that can't be messed with, but thankfully all of the things he does eat are beyond healthy making him par to the healthiest child alive. But in looking at website stats the other day for Will's Kitchen, I noticed that people are reading it. People that might be in the same position as we are... People that we might be helping with our past food experiments or that might be gleaming with advice. So why stop? Maybe if I clang around in the kitchen for a while he'll want to join in and all of this "No" "Gross" "THAT IS DISGUSTING" can come to an end. In all honesty, as much as we hate the allergies, we are beyond used to them... Like the creepy guy that used to live next door.... that was standing there looking back at you every time I opened the blinds. (((shiver))). All we have to do is AVOID until we are told otherwise. We just want him to try. Just a little bit. Oh, but this time, as I move the treadmill into the kitchen for optimal multi-tasking, no way am I gaining any weight.

See You Nevah.

Spring always makes me happy. And while I know that the world is in it's usual upheaval of bullshit, when Springtime comes I tend to look the other way. I go outside and spend time with my family and I don't worry about the losers that hacked into my email account or the unbelievable amount of work that I have put upon myself. Instead I procrastinate. I love to procrastinate... and it's something that never usually happens when its nasty outside. Like today, for instance. I have a list longer than my incredibly attractive legs (if I do say so myself) of things that I have to do. I have a babysitter lined up so that my kids won't be completely ignored and my dog is lounging under the tree outside... loving the weather and all I want to do is call and cancel, not work. Play. Play. Play. I already did the dishes. I already did the laundry. The sky is blue, and while I suppose I will have to feed people at some point, there are hours upon hours ahead of me that I can COMPLETELY WASTE. And WHY NOT? Because HE can sit tight on his branding, right? She can live another day without business cards... They can just CALM DOWN about their wedding invitations and WHEW -- I can give myself a break on the enormous response to The Big Idea and all of the exciting STUFF that it is generating. RIGHT!??! RIGHT?!?! I can just GO outside, right now... Hope that I didn't send the boy to school without clothes on (again). There's a bistro set in the play-yard with my name written ALL OVER IT. Check me by THE BUBBLE MACHINE. AND -- The internet connection sucks balls out there.... BONUS. So why am I still here thinking about going out there... I'm NOT - I'm coming up with a bullshit title for this weird little conversation that I'm having with myself and I'm GOING. SO STICK IT.