Mortality check

Unexpected and troubling moment of profundity just now when making my nightly kid kissing rounds. Normally they sleep right through this procedure, but not tonight. The moment my lips brushed Jack's cheek, he sat bolt upright and announced clearly "I choose not to." On further inquiry he clarified, "I don't want to get buried or burned. I just want to stay me. I don't ever want to die." When I hugged him and assured him that he could just stay him for a good long while, he eyed me gravely and said, "Zoe doesn't want to die either, you know." Upon which he rolled over, tucked his pirate blanket firmly under his chin, and fell fast asleep.

Kids.

Stupid is just how I roll

It is dark, it is cold, and I am on the lawn. Locked out of house and car because I am apparently unable to tell the difference between my keys and my watch. My watch doesn't open my car or my house. It just tells me what time it is, but I already KNOW what time it is. It is time for me to be inside of my house. Or my car. Or really anywhere except sitting on my lawn blogging about how it's dark and it's cold and I'm locked out.

The real question is how I have gotten this far in my education, my career, and my life without the ability to reliably distinguish between a set of keys and a watch.

Brr.


- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

Location:My freaking front yard

That's right, we match. Wanna make something of it?

More and More PJs
Originally uploaded by Jules Jung

One day I will treat my readers to a discourse on the deep-seated psychopathology evidenced by my procurement of matching pajamas, to say nothing of my inflicting said pajamas on my unsuspecting family. But for now I will just enjoy our red and green stripey-ness. You should enjoy it too.

The areas of my expertise

So before I actually do anything productive - for example finish the lecture I have to give at 7am tomorrow - I thought I should offer some back story on Jack's list. You might think that a four year old, asea in a vast ocean of untapped knowledge, would be daunted by the task of enumerating the things he doesn't know. That it would be easier to count those few solid pillars of fact on which he can rely: Mama loves me, the sky is blue, my Wheelie-Bug is awesome.

Not so for Jack, master of the unfounded pronouncement. Never thwarted by lack of factual information, Jack is willing to hold forth on any subject. He issues his statements with bold conviction. "Aliens cannot open the back doors of vans." Simple, incontrovertible fact.

He does this with such regularity and conviction that Leslie and I termed him an Expert. With a capital E. We called him this in our most confidential tones, apparently deluded in our belief that he wouldn't notice. Nary a syllable escapes the notice of the twins. Actually that's not true - nary an inappropriate syllable escapes their notice. Syllables like "pick up your toys, it's bedtime" seem to escape their notice quite routinely. But no such luck in this case. Now we are saddled with a four year old who KNOWS that he's an expert, and when the adults around him seem unable to grasp this obvious fact, he will explain. "I'm an expert in everything." Which is wildly obnoxious. But if you can see his earnest little face when he says it and refrain from laughing, you're a better grownup than I.

So for now, you can assume that the Things Jack Doesn't Know list is exhaustive. In the unlikely event it is amended, I will let you know.

Why the hell am I doing this???

WHY??

Well, I'm well qualified. I have years of experience failing in my journal writing endeavors. I have dutifully neglected decades worth of journals, everything from my very first pink vinyl-bound lock-and-key style Dear Diary to my last abandoned blog. And if you don't try, how can you fail?

So here I am. New blog, no followers, which is maybe for the best. Alone with that misguided glimmer of hope that I will have something to say, and actually say it. My life is quite interesting - fascinating, actually. I am the mother of four year old twins and a an emergency medicine doctor. Mama + Doc, get it? Plus I'm a wife, a friend, a sister, an aunt, a teacher, a cook, a knitter, a photographer, a cyclist, a volunteer, and plenty else. When I'm old and decrepit, I'd like to remember some of these things. Plus my sister in law Karin just published a beautiful book of her amazing blog, Quoddy News, and I'm jealous. That's something else I am: a jealous person. Also sometimes petulant.

Anyway, here's to a new year of writing stuff down! If you don't like moms, doctors, or any of the other stuff I am, don't read this blog. If you read it anyway and it annoys you, don't worry - it probably won't last long.

Today's entry: Jack's list of Things He Doesn't Know. There are four. They are:
1. How bad guys grow
2. What birds' bones look like
3. How leaves change colors
4. How cars get fixed.

That is all.