In Which Useful Things Shall Be Said, But Not By Me

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This week is settling into a quiet rhythm. Stinkerbelle is on the mend in some respects, so we were able to get her out to her gym class this week, but due to the holiday we didn’t have swim class. And even if we did, I would not have taken her because she has two raging ear infections (although unless her doctor had told us last week, we never would have known — kid would not complain if her hair were on fire, I swear to doG.) And until we’re done her meds, she’s not going in the water.

But we’re sticking close to home anyway. I can’t walk for any period of time or participate in any of her classes terribly well until I get this knee on the mend and/or the pain subsides on its own. I even stayed home from work this week because I didn’t want to be driving for an hour there and then back again on next to no sleep. But on the upside, I whacked myself out with heavy duty cold meds in desperation the other night and SHAZAM! I was sleeping at 90 minute stretches for most of the night. Hurray for acetaminophen! So I went out and bought me the strongest, longest lasting, highest dose Tylenol I could find. And last night, I slept for, like, FOUR HOURS at one stretch. OMG BLISS I LOVE YOU TYLENOL LETS BE BESTEST FRIENDS FOREVAH.

And while we are at home, I find I am compelled to bake, but because that requires walking on our tile floor for longish periods of time, I talk myself out of it most days. But BDH is going to be attending a get together this weekend, and decided to have a custom cake made. From a baker who specializes in fancy-schmancy, crazy-rich-flavours, holy-hell-you-can-even-specify-your-icing -type cakes. This woman makes cakes in the shape of castles and big wrapped presents and the Air Canada Centre and scenes from Spongebob Squarepants, for the love of doG. And so this cake he is ordering is going to be spectacular. So, this has been driving me even more to bake, as now I am craving cake like a mofo. Except I know that whatever I make will pale in comparison to the Party Cake Of Infinite Tastiness, and so then I give up and admit defeat.

So here I am sleepless and cakeless. And peevish, it goes without saying.

So, I am sitting down at lunch with Stinkerbelle, WITH NO CAKE I MIGHT ADD, and we’re having soup. (She’s eating soup these days. Really it’s just whatever soup we are eating, whizzed for a couple of seconds in the blender, but HEY. KID IS EATING ACTUAL FOOD. I do not complain.) Anyway. One of the things we do to keep her distracted and not panicking and fixating on whatever we’re trying to get her to eat, is to put a podcast or TV show on the computer in our kitchen. She watches it, and does not think about what she is eating, and consequently more gets ingested, with less of a palaver, than she normally would in a quiet setting. (I know this is contrary to what nutritionists will tell you is good practice, but nutritionists don’t have to deal with kids with eating issues every fricking day. Plus Stinkerbelle’s OT sanctions it. So there.)

Every day, we let her choose what to watch — mostly because we know who is In Charge in this house. And she LOVESLOVESLOVES Mythbusters. Or, as she calls it, “MeeBeeBees”. So today, she wanted to watch “MeeBeeBees Bananas!” for the eleventybillionth time. It’s about slipping on a banana peel. It brings some comedy. I acquiesced.

We’re eating. And all of a sudden, my kid is hollering things out.

SCIENCE TYPE THINGS.

I’m sitting with a not-quite-three-year old at the table, and she’s bellowing out things like “STATIC FRICTION!!” and “FERRIC NITRATE!!” and “KINETIC!!”

And I begin to wonder… Did I take TOO MUCH medication? Is pain or lack of sleep making me delusional? Possibly I have dozed off over my Tuscan Bean Soup and I’m dreaming this?

Nope. But another possibility came to mind: MY KID WATCHES TOO MUCH MYTHBUSTERS.

Is there any such thing? I don’t know. It IS slightly disturbing when your preschooler has more scientific knowledge than you do. But I’m not going to worry about it too much. She can watch all the Mythbusters she likes, as long as she eats her soup.

And then grows up to be a scientific wonder who makes enough money to keep me in physiotherapy, Tylenol and as much fancy-schmancy cake as I could possibly want.