Can I have some?

welcome to my blog.

a place to post. a place to eat oreos. a place to vent. a place to heal.

i started this blog so i could use a different outlet besides munching on fattening oreos. as if that has done any good... *mind wanders to oreo package in the house...*

then i realized that oreos can be semi symbolic. if you are are that crazy about oreos that is. which... i am.

eating oreos is therapeutic for me. when i am struggling or when i need a pick me up. they have chocolate. and sugar. both of which help lift my mood. not to mention that i eat them soaked with milk, which is my miracle drink.

i post my posts to not only get stuff out. there may be people who read my blog who have been in the same kind of situations as i have. i hope reading them and knowing that others have gone through things like i have, will be to you what eating oreos does to me.


and yes. i didn't capitalize anything in here. i just felt like it. deal with it.


munch up.

Saturday, November 22, 2008

Left or Right?

I'm not sure if I posted this or not, but humor me, Ok? Or, maybe I'll humor you. It is quite a funny story.

When I put Bug's socks and shoes on, I try to remember to say, "This is your right (or left depending) foot." I came up with that idea so I could teach him his right and left. After doing this for a while, I would say, "This shoe goes on your right (or left) foot. Which one is your right (or left) foot?" and see if he could tell me. Sometimes he got it right, sometimes I think he just guessed. I never knew if he really knew which one was right or left.

Quite a while ago, I was putting his shoes on and saying the first phrase I quoted. This particular day I was actually putting his shoes on differently. I usually put them on with him sitting on my lap. That day, I was doing it while he was sitting on a chair facing me. While I was trying to teach him what foot was what, he was denying me. Saying that his left foot was really his right (or vise versa... I can't really remember what one I was putting on at the time). After I was done and I had his shoes on, he was still trying to tell me that his left foot was his right. I realized after I stood up and turned around that he was right. I was messed up because he was facing me instead of being on my lap. I was trying to tell him wrong, and he was right.

So much for mothers know everything, huh?

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