wink     ; )

Our House

We are officially homeowners today.

We had been renting this house from Tree's parents for the past year. But they need to liquify some of their assets and interest rates are low, so we decided to take the plunge and buy it.

Of course, we don't really own this place--the bank owns it. But we own a small portion of it.

So now we are homeowners and not merely homedwellers. And we have all of the attendant responsibilities. And a mortgage (yikes). Exciting and scary all at once.

Proper mixing technique

I was discussing how to make baby formula with some friends. Very simple really: Powder. Water. Stir. [Demonstrate by shaking bottle.]

My friend: "Does it matter if it is shaken and not stirred?"
My reply: "Only if your baby is James Bond."

Note: Shaking applies to bottle only. Never shake your baby!

babysitting on a wednesday

I am right now babysitting an infant who really likes to be held upright while being carried around. Requires it, in fact. I have now paced the width of my house several hundred times and am now quite bored of it.

Also--this baby can hiccup in his sleep. Talented!

Best Job Ever!

Don't even try to tell me that this wouldn't be the best job ever.

Trackback

I think that I have yet to ping a site (i.e. create a trackback link) successfully. Anybody care to share how its done?

Omni-Will

There is some interesting discussion about the compatibility (or non-compatibility) of omniscience and free-will. It started off at The Raving Atheist (actually, it started with this post, the other link is the latest post on the subject), and has continued over at The World Wide Rant. There is a nice summary of the events over at Rob's Blog.

Since I am not smart enough to keep my mouth shut when controversial subjects come my way, I am now plunging into the fray.

Not a complaint

I've been too complainy on this blog. So here is one complaint-free post...

I was having lunch with my sister and her family and generally having a good time. Beeky (my nephew) had finished his meal and was getting antsy. Sis and I were busy talking to each other and were ignoring Beeky's antics until he started getting cranky. He was really tired, but he wanted some pears (which were out of his reach) before he left the table.

We passed him a few slices of pear and watched him struggle to eat them. He would hold the slice in a two-fisted grip so that he wouldn't drop it. But as he would bring the pear to his mouth, he would fall asleep and his hands would drop to his lap. He would then jerk awake and start over. When he was finally able to get the pear to his mouth, he jammed a huge portion into his mouth and then scrunched up his face in concentration as he tried to chew without falling asleep.

Sis and I could not keep from laughing. After he finished one slice, Sis put him down for a nap.

I wish that I could have captured that on video.

On Working Hard and Hardly Working

Tree was away at a conference last week, which prompted my previous post. The loneliness on top of my lingering depression resulted in a complete failure of motivation to do my homework. I was able to get away with that for a couple of days as I'm currently only a half-time student and all of my classes are on Monday and Tuesday.

After Tree came home, we watched a movie one night and went to a friend's house for dinner another. Oh, and I painted the trim on all of our windows. You'll notice that none of this involves getting my homework done.

And that, of course, explains why I've been up past 4:00 AM for two nights in a row.

(Amazingly, I managed to get everything done. Whew!)

Depression

I lay limp and frozen
huddled in the corner of my mind
as the weight of vast emptiness,
openness and abyss crush me.

My depression is like agoraphobia. Abruptly everything that comforts me and cuddles me and cozies me falls away (gracefully quick) and there is nothing left but me and the void. Staring at each other. And I blink first.

I can feel it in my chest and my sinuses--the gasping, the welling tears--but the release never comes. My heart pounds but does not race; its beats are heavy and slow but I can feel them in my gut, in my fingertips, I can hear them in my ears while my vision pulses. I am not terrified; I have been claimed by both melancholy and despair.

My thoughts are siren voices, alluring and not at all my own. I am caught up among them and am washed into the madness of fever-sleep. Our special for tonight is incoherence on a bed of nightmares.

This is my life. One minute is pure routine. The next, my heartbeat is the only thing that I can hear or see or feel. Previous depressions have been sieges. This one is guerilla warfare.

(Three weeks down, who knows how many to go...)