Tuesday, January 26, 2010

I dislike my mom

I do. I love her because she is my mom, but like my sister, she has so many traits that I jus don't like. If she weren't my mom, I wouldn't deal with her.

In Indian culture, when a couple gets married, all the extended family invite the couple to dinner to as a way of welcoming and getting to know the new bride. My parents are therefore inviting my BIL and his wife for dinner, along with the inlaws. I found out because my MIL called to me to find out if the date was OK.

My mother is currently not speaking to me because I was rude for telling her to MYOB on an issue with my sis. So what should I have said to my MIL. Most normal mothers would call their daughters to find out her availability prior to making the formal invite if the daughters presence was wanted.

I didn't want to broadcast omy mothers disagreement with me so I told my mil the date was fine. I am indian so I've been bred to save face.

Now my father has sheepishly called to ensure I will be there. I hate that she sticks him in the middle. It is so sad.

Friday, January 15, 2010

For all the future skiing graduate students

I do not recommend trying to read a journal article with Papers (or writing a thesis proposal) after a day of skiing, sitting in a hot tub drinking >1 beer and / or drinking 3+ beer while trying to read said paper.

Just saying, it might be best to leave the doing science while drinking to either to the PI's or limited to just drinking and science. Not skiing, hot tub, alcohol + science.

It might be too much for you newbies.

For me? Not so much. I've survived a car wreck on the way up to our ski vacation (we're all OK), child birth and watching my 3 year old become fearless in the snow. Booze and science don't scare me.

**** this may be poorly written due to consumption of >1 beer

Friday, January 8, 2010

Three Years Ago

My dearest dearest monkey,

Three years ago, yesterday, I was assisted by a vacuum to get you out of me. You did not want to come out. Nothing really has changed. You still don't want to X. Every morning you say I don't want to wake up, I don't want to go to school. Everyday when I pick you up, you say I don't want to go home. I don't want to eat dinner. I don't want to go to sleep. I'm. Not. Tired. Yeah right kiddo, that's why you fall asleep half way through Cat in the Hat.

You've done alot this past year. The boy who would not speak. The boy who's language I was really really worried about has turned into the boy who does not stay quiet. You're a walking talking commenter on everything that goes on. I have to really watch what I say, as you repeat EVERYTHING. I never thought that was going to happen.

You've become a stereotypical boy who loves all things trucks. Firetrucks, ambulances, police cars, dumptrucks, garbage trucks. You know the difference between a digger and a frontloader, a pick up truck vs a jeep truck. You know grandpas truck, uncle's truck, daddy's truck (we have alot of trucks in the family). This Christmas you received so many trucks you got a truck high.

You use the potty! Although you won't tell me when you need to go, if I put you on every 2 hours, you will go in the potty. You will not go in your pants unless I've been bad about getting you to a toilet (its been >3 hours since I last took you). You don't like the feeling of being wet, so I'm pretty sure you'll start telling me in the next few months. I'm not too concerned. You seem to want to do things on your schedule, when you want to. Hmm, wonder where you get that from. Just remember, you won't ever be able to out pig-head your mother.:)! If you don't believe me, ask your dad.

And yet you're not a stereotypical boy. You love your baby cousins. You are so gentle and nurturing with them. Hopefully we'll be able let you be an older brother one day. You say I love mommy and it melts my heart. Your hugs and kisses are like gold to me. I can't get enough of them.

You're not a little baby anymore. You're not even a toddler.No matter what you're my little boy. You really are a mama's boy. You love me more than anything I think. It has to be mommy's hand you hold, mommy who puts you to bed, mommy who does everything. I hope you know how much your daddy loves you too.

Happy Birthday munchkin. I'm sorry you're party not at your home, but great-grandpa should be with us to celebrate. LOVE you LOTS