Urg. I don't like it, no sir, I don't. I wouldn't have added it even, but I asked to get in on two thousand blogs, which means I needed to have my picture up, and that's the only one I have.
I look at the ones other bloggers have and am rather envious. I like the ones that look like the person was holding the camera themselves. I'm also partial to ones that people have drawn. Abstract pictures are good. I'm not partial to ones that are of the children of the blogger. I wouldn't go so far as to say I dislike them, but it's like meeting someone for the first time, and instead of them saying "Hi, I'm Bob" they say "Hi, I'm Timmy's dad". Whatever.
Glamour Shot looking photos weird me out. The ones where the hair is being blown in the wind, or the ones that look like they belong on a book jacket. A little too much effort, perhaps. The saddest, lamest ones, though, are the ones like mine. The ones that say, "I cropped my face out of a family photo because I have no photos of myself by myself." It makes me feel un-artsy. And small. I would like to think I am a little artsy and, ummmm, medium (?), so I'll really have to do something about this. I'm tired of cringing when I leave a comment.
On another note, we got Simon the Firefly box set for his birthday and are enjoying it mightily. We watched all the episodes when it was on TV, then rented them all on netflix. Each time we watch an episode we discover anew how great the show is and how much we really, really enjoy it. It is splendidly clever. This is a show I would recommend to people who don't normally like sci-fi, because I can't imagine anyone not liking this series. Anyone whose company I enjoy.
I told Simon I wanted a Jayne hat and a Dr. Who scarf. He laughed. I asked if he wouldn't wear a set, and he said not if I was wearing a matching set next to him.
We have an appointment with Early Intervention about Peanut tomorrow, and one with a geneticist in Albany coming up. The latest Dr says there is enough stuff to be worrisome, and it's worth doing. I'll go along with that. I am not really worried though, because in the end I chalk all the weirdnesses up to the low birth weight. It just makes sense. Then again, I'd hate to find out I was wrong and wasted valuable time. So. To Albany we'll go.
I am scoring some raw milk tomorrow. A friend is going to hook me up. Sounds like I'm freebasing lactobacilli, doesn't it? It's slightly more legal than that. I am strangely excited about the idea; I haven't had any before. We drink so much milk around here that our milk habit has actually affected our budget. We're lucky to live someplace where raw milk is actually cheaper than store bought organic. We'll be saving $7 a week on the milk, and if we make our own butter and yogurt we'll save even more. Yay!
Which is all to say I have nothing to say. Which is the third post in a row, and it's not even Nablopomo.
Because I'm a blabbertwat,