ALL ABOUT FOOD Drink green on St. Patrick's Day -- and I don't mean beer
A few weekends ago I listened in to several free call-in webcasts, all part of a two-day Conscious Foods Summit. It was the description of the event that caught my interest:
"The Conscious Foods Summ... Posted on 3/16/12 at 7:25 PM
Smack dab in the middle of math homework, my first-grader had a revelation.
“I’m seven,” he said, taking the numbers from his math lesson and transferring them to real-life. “And that’s odd.” A pause, and then, “I don’t want to be odd.”
We are living in a crazy world.
It’s a world where a single, unemployed mother of six children under the age of eight who is living with her parents (did I mention she’s unemployed?) can find a doctor willing to give her fertility treatments so she can give birth to eight more babies.
Mother Nature must have a wicked sense of humor. You’d think that she’d take it easy on her earthly equivalents – the human mothers of the world – but she does nothing of the sort. In fact, I’m beginning to believe she enjoys making us squirm by forcing us to pay homage to her tremendous powers.
Less than a decade ago, we made a habit of talking on the phone nearly every day. We’d chat for way too long about everything and nothing. She doesn’t call me at all anymore, and I have to remind myself to make sure to dial her number at least a couple times a week.
We see the world through our own unique perspective. When you are six, that perspective often contains honesty, wonder and a butchering of the language that is uncommon later in life. This column is courtesy of six-year-old, Cal, whose observations are sometimes wise beyond his years. Other times they are just plain funny.
Never underestimate the power of a single piece of paper – especially if the paper in question is a (genuine and authentic) Certificate.
My first grader came home with such a document this week. He brings papers from school just about every day.
Every year during the first week in November, I try to stay out of the grocery store for about 48 hours beginning Wednesday evening and ending Friday around suppertime. If I don’t remember, I should note the surplus of pickup trucks in the parking lot, and immediately back away slowly from the F-150s.
Our daughter never learned to crawl. She went right from sitting to walking. This wasn’t because of any special inborn talent on her part, although I’m sure we could have argued that at the time.
No, our daughter’s walking feat was due to the fact that she had two first-time parents who knew virtually nothing about what to do with little babies.
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