...'cause if they are, maybe they aren't such yucky, vile creatures after all....
Pandora Music Selection of the Day: Al Green Radio!
I heard another interesting thing on CBC radio the other day. This time it's about "epigenes", have you heard about them? They are the things your genes are wrapped up in, and while the genes you inherit from your parents are set in stone, and cannot be changed, it seems these epigene things, which control how and when the genes are expressed, are very much affected by environment. As an example, they explained how rat pups, when licked a lot by their mothers, are less stressed out and neurotic as adults. Their epigenes have been affected in some way by the licking so as to allow the genes to produce enough cortisol, a stress hormone.
In other words, our behavior is yes indeedy most heavily influenced by nurture.
I was listening to this while hanging out with Little Miss No Intensity, and I'm no dummy, I could hear the subtext of the plot loud and clear: Hug and kiss your kids a lot. So I picked her up and snuggled her, and then, when the bit about the rats was discussed, gave her a tentative little lick. That did not go over so great, her face kind of wrinkled up in disgust. Yuck mom, that was the most disgusting thing that's ever happened to me! her expression said.
"Sorry," I mumbled, a little embarrassed, and tried to explain what I was doing. Her eyes shone with sorrowful, indignant resentment. I'm not a rat pup, mom, she vibed.
It was our first argument.
Actually, it was our second, if you count the slight difference of opinions we had last week over her first non-lactation meal ever. Six months means solid foods, and we celebrated by cracking open a box of yummy and delicious Organic Rice-and-Some-Other-Grain Brown Gooey Slop (I never ever added enough water to that stuff for Miss H.I. either) and although I insisted it was "da most delishiest ting you've eveh twied eveh!" she didn't buy it, was grossed out, and let it ooze from every corner of her mouth. I shouldn't have tossed out that stupid What to Expect book, because if my memory serves me correctly, they tell you the order in which to introduce new foods, and the only thing I remember from last time is that squash makes an early debut. I only remember this because last time I was bound and determined to Do Everything Perfect, and so I went out, bought the squash, cooked it, pureed it, managed to get maybe 1/4 of a teaspoon of the stuff down old Miss H. I.'s piehole, and, despite such a little amount being consumed, suffered the effects of this wonderful, wonderful vegetable on her beanhole end for many days following. Oh, and we had about 17 pounds of pureed squash that sat frozen in the freezer for about... actually, I think it's still in there, ha ha, I'd better, um, clean that old freezer out one of these days...
Did you ever read a Frederick Philip Grove book? I did in high school, and I remember my friends and I making fun of him a lot because he ended almost every sentence in dot dot dot...oh crap, I've turned into freaking Frederick Philip bloody Grove!...
I'm also currently going crazy, because That Guy has been out of house for, like, 16 hours at a time everyday for the last WEEK. How do single parents do it, I can't stand this. To keep sane, I force everyone out of the house for a long, two hour walk every afternoon, rain or shine. Before you accuse me of child abuse, I should add that our walks are punctuated by a lot of pit stops, like the bakery, the thrift store, etc., I did this even last month when there was snow on the ground and the winds were crazy. When I first started this ritual, basically half the walk involved Little Miss H.I. screaming and squealing like a small pig on fire, but she's become resigned to her fate.
Actually, she didn't look very happy.
Friday, November 24, 2006
Are Rat Moms Single Parents?
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4 comments:
okay "squealing like a small pig on fire" is my new favourite expression
not that there's a child in this house that would refer to, of course - he's much too big to be called a SMALL anything ...
I gave up on the "What to expect" books a long time ago when I had more than one child and realized you just CAN'T expect the same thing from two different kids. And somehow, they all seemed to have survived their early feeding days even though I didn't do it in the perfect stages.
(By the way, the commenter above is my sister-in-law in Calgary.)
ha ha.. frozen snot.
I've seen frozen tears and ice crystals on mustaches..
oh the joys of winter
My dog would run out on the snow and have so much fun, and then come in with these drool-cycles hanging down the sides of his mouth.
A walk is a great idea to break up the craziness of being a kind of almost single parent. I remember when my daughter was born, my son was 3. Everytime I would sit down to breast feed her he would go off someplace and do something he KNEW he wasn't supposed to do. Once he even peed in her closet. I would sit in the hallway and cry until my husband came home and then pretend that everything was so peachy king it was sickening! Going for a walk is much better than sitting in the hallway crying. =)
Here's a hint. Not sure of how old your children are. When mine were 2 and 5 I would put shaving cream on the kitchen table and let them make shapes with their fingers, circles, start to write name (5 year old). It cleaned the kitchen table and let me do something without them at my feet.
This is my firs time toyour blog. I came in throught Heather. I'm not always this long winded. =)
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