Ugh.

Part of our New Year's resolution was to change our diet: cut out meat, more fruits and veggies, and branch out and try new things.  One of my big, big, big problems is the amount of sugar I consume in a given day.  The actual quantity is undetermined, because if I kept track I'd probably have a heart attack, but let's just say "an assload."  I take a little coffee with my sugar, if you know what I'm sayin'.  So I heard about stevia, and have been dying to get my hands on some.  It was my great white hope, what with being all natural.

Ohmygoditisdisgusting.

I'm trying to get myself to like it, but the aftertaste is just awful.  Seriously awful.  Horrendously awful.  SOUL CRUSHINGLY AWFUL.  But I really want to like it.  I've convinced myself that if I substitute it for sugar in my coffee I will instantly drop 25 pounds, become fabulously rich, have awesome hair, and the mayor will give me a key to the city.  Maybe I have it confused for some other white, powdery substance?

Along the same lines, we bought some goat milk at the store, another first for us, look how cool we are all branching out in our dairy products, right?

We ran out of cow's milk the other day, so Bryan made me a mocha and substituted goat's milk instead.  He told me that if I didn't like it he'd dump it out, but we were out of other milk, so it was that or nothing.  I took a few drinks, but there was a weird taste to it.  I thought maybe it was just me, so I had Phoebe drink some, and she thought it was fine.  Using kids as a litmus test isn't a great idea, though -- Phoebe eats peanut butter with vegetable crackers.  Bleh.

I decided to just try the milk by itself to see if that was the problem.  Bryan brought out a cup and we all took drinks.  I went last (because I'm cautious like that) and felt pretty confident since everyone else seemed fine.  I took a drink.  And then proceeded to gag.  It tasted like someone lit a goat on fire and mixed it with evil.  And I put it in my mouth.  On purpose.  It took all night to get the taste out of my mouth, and right now?  I'm trying not to gag.  Just thinking about it makes me sick.

Maybe if I had broader tastes, and had grown up drinking milk that tasted exactly like a goat smells I wouldn't have such issues.  Maybe I'm just narrow minded.  Maybe I've been corrupted by processed foods like Doritos and Twinkies, but whatever.  I can't stomach things that have lingering aftertastes that make me want to choke myself.

So until they make a sugar substitute that tastes like sugar, and goat's milk that tastes like cow's milk (or sugar!) then I guess we'll just take what we already have, thankyouverymuch.

Projects

Mr. Claus brought the littles an easel to share, and they play with it about a gajillion times a day. We were hesitant to break out the paints, because hello? Paint.  But we ended up giving in, and actually letting them play with their toy.  Man, we are nice.  Thankfully, clean-up was surprisingly easy.  I love the giant art creations.  Clearly, we need a bigger fridge.

A few days ago, Marissa made some cookie dough.  She does this for alot -- makes the dough for me, and then I bake the cookies myself.  I didn't check the dough when she was finished, and there was a slight miscalculation in the math for the chocolate chips.  The recipe called for 1 1/4 cups, and she read this as 11 * (1/4) cup.  Quite a difference.  The cookies had basically only enough dough to hold the chips together, but damn they're good.

Finally, I'm almost finished with Phoebe's sweater.  The one I started 800 years ago, that she's almost too big for.  Soli had chewed my plastic DPNs, so I couldn't finish the sleeve.  The talented, lovely, generous, and fabulous Godmother saved me by sending me a new set, so I didn't have to order $5 worth of needles, and pay $7 shipping on them.  I'm thisclose to being finished with the second sleeve.  ABOUT DAMN TIME.

For Adriane

A big red button, just for you.  Because I love you so.

Get your own here

Sixth image

Meme from Dotty:

Go to the 6th file of photos on your computer.  Choose the 6th photo. Post it.

Here it is, from 8-15-08, when the Godmother was out here visiting.  I have no idea what was cracking Phoebe up so much, but Maisy is clearly trying to escape the crazy.  I don't blame her.

If you do this leave a comment with a link to your post so I can check it out!

Angry blogging

I guess it's kind of like drunk-dialing, only with less hangover and more fury.

I try not to blog about stuff like this very often, but I'm so damn mad.  Marissa has been doing really shitty in school.  She's the most well-liked kid, I swear, but her grades are crap, and going downhill fast.  We've tried every. single. thing. we can think of to motivate her ass, but it's just not working.  So the homeschool program I want to use for Phoebe does K-12.  And we're enrolling Marissa.  She clearly needs to be closely monitored, and I can't just let her piss away her grades -- if it's this bad now, think how much worse it will be in high school?

Anyway, of course we're asking my ex to pitch in for half of the tuition.  It's not cheap, and it's for her education, so I feel justified asking him to contribute.  After Bryan explained the situation to him on the phone tonight, he offered my ex the opportunity to get back on the phone with Marissa to talk to her about her report card.

You know what he said to her?  He YAWNED and said he's TIRED.  That's it.  Those were his motivating words, his cautionary tale, that's how he expressed his disappointment in her grades, and how he tried to dig a little deeper to find out what's going on in her life.

I didn't expect a grand speech, but shit.  I expected more than that.  I'm so furious, but I guess that's just how he is.  It makes me so angry because we get to be the bad guys, lecturing her, monitoring everything she does, calling her teacher every other day, and he can't even get it together enough to ask her what the hell is up.

Sickening.