Friday Picture Fun

I have a bunch of semi-random pictures that I thought were funny for various reasons.

So here we go.

Yesterday, Emily didn't take a nap. We hadn't done enough stuff in the morning for her to be sufficiently tired at nap-time. After an hour of playing in her room on her bed, she asked to be allowed to play in her room quietly, which is what happens around here if naps are not taken. Nap time is my quiet time and kids who don't nap get to play in their rooms and be quiet until I say it is time to come out.

At about 4:15, I realized that Emily was being awfully quiet. Playing in your room and being quiet has different interpretations. I take it to mean, BE QUIET. Emily takes it to mean, Don't Bang On Things To0 Loudly Or Mommy Will Yell.

The level of quiet coming from Emily's room was suspicious, so I poked my head in to see what she was doing.

This is what I found:She is passed out on the floor. Presumably, Oscar is snuggled there in her arm. Oh, and she's wearing 3 shirts. She dressed herself and I didn't feel like fighting it. Meh. Whatever. She slept like that until about 5:30.

The next picture I think is funny is this one:
That is Emily's (and Lucy's) Halloween candy haul. The funny part? We don't actually celebrate Halloween. We attended a Halloween party given by MOMS Club, but after much discussion, Mike and I decided to keep Emily home yesterday instead of sending her to preschool where they were having a Halloween party and trick-or-treating practice. As born-again Christians, we feel that Halloween is a pagan holiday that goes against a fair number of our beliefs. I feel that dressing up in a non-scary costume and attending a Halloween party (or two) would be OK. Mike disagrees. We're still working on what will happen for the next 14 years worth of school-related Halloween festivities.

It is 50 degrees out today and so I took the girls outside to enjoy what is possibly the last nice day until, oh March. Probably April.

Anyways, I took my camera with me and filled a 1 GB memory card playing with the continuous shot feature. LOVE it. I had so much fun.

The next two pictures are two I got of Emily jumping off one of our plastic playthings.
I think they are pretty darn cool.

I'm hoping the continuous shot feature dealy will help me get a good shot of Mike tossing Lucy up in the air. It's really cute, but I haven't yet been able to capture it without it coming out all blurry. We'll see.

Hocked

When I left Butthead, I was still wearing my engagement ring.

There was some concern about it's whereabouts while I was packing my things and my parents told him it was "in escrow." Escrow, as it turned out, was on the kitchen table at our house, but whatever.

Eventually, the ring was moved off the kitchen table and put downstairs in their safe.

My parents brought it over to me a couple of years ago and I have had it around here ever since.

I finally got rid of it today.

It's been a sort of albatross ever since I left him. I thought about taking the diamond, which was fairly good quality, if a little small, and making it into a necklace or something, but I decided I didn't want to hang a symbol of my failed relationship around my neck.

I took the ring to a local jewelry store and sold it for scrap value.

I am sure I could have obtained more money for it if I had sold it some other way, but I was finally ready to get rid of it and so I did.

However, I think I am going to try to take the proceeds, meager as they are, and do something for me with them.

My current thought is to get a band of some kind to go with my engagement ring and wedding ring. My engagement ring -- every single time I have typed that I have typed it "engangement" argh -- is a diamond in the center, with a sapphire (my birthstone) on each side. I was looking at channel-set bands today at the jewelry store, some with just diamonds, and some with diamonds and sapphires. My favorite was a diamond, channel-set band that curved a little. It looked really nice against my engagement ring. But it was $600.

We'll see how this works out and if I can get something that I like that fits inside my rather meager budget.

Sweet Lamb Chop

I've bored you all to tears with my endless talks about the insane dog who currently resides in my house (yeah, the Beware of Dog sign? Not at all for show. Courtney went down in to my basement with me a couple weeks ago and Domino {who's met Courtney before and LOVED her} stood up and started growling and barking. NOT KIDDING. Beware of my dog.)

Now it's time for me to talk about other dawgs I've known and loved.

First up is Lamb Chop. She was a dog we adopted from the Human Society in Minneapolis when I was, I dunno, 5? 6? Her name, honest to goodness, was Lamb Chop. We decided to call her L.C. I have a vague memory of my mom saying it would be a COLD day in hell when she called that dog Lamb Chop.

L.C. was a Cocka Poo, a mix between Cocker Spaniel and Poodle. She was a great dog. She didn't shed and she was gentle with me, since I was not at all gentle with her.

She also had a voracious appetite for, well, let's say personal garments of my mother. I think Holly lost a few personal garments, too. And L.C. also ate one (or was it 2, Mom?) of the mouth guards Mom had for teeth grinding.

After L.C. went to Doggie Heaven, we got Kirby.

Kirby was a Springer Spaniel and was named for Kirby Puckett.

I have a very clear memory of watching the Twins in their 1991 World Series games. Kirby was sleeping on my lap and when Kirby Puckett hit a home run, Mom and I smothered Kirby with hugs and pats and kisses. He was confused, but grateful as always.

Kirby was, unfortunately, a one-dog kind of dog and the introduction of my future Dad into our lives came with his two dogs, Keyshia and Emily. Emily had knee surgery soon after Mom and Dad started dating and came to stay with us during her recovery. That pretty much sent Kirby over the edge.

One night, Dad reached down to pat Kirby as they were heading to bed. It had been a completely peaceful night. Until Kirby bit down on Dad's hand and wouldn't let go. It was one of the most frightening things I have ever witnessed. Kirby did eventually let go. He spent the night in the basement and was sent soon thereafter to live with my sister.

He lived out his days with Holly, eventually moving with her and her husband to San Fransisco. They live in a 3rd floor walkup and as Kirby got older, he couldn't navigate the stairs. My brother-in-law Mike would carry Kirby up and down the stairs, all 50-ish pounds of him, several times a day so that he could go outside.

Mike and I talk a lot about Domino and the part he plays in our girls' lives. He is their buddy. He is so incredibly patient with them. He puts up with Lucy's ham-handed attempts at petting, which is more hitting and less caress than he'd prefer. And if he doesn't like something they do to him? He gets up and walks away. Usually with a groan, but even still, I couldn't ask for a better response from my behaviorally challenged dog.

If you are a dog person, or if the pet thing isn't your thing, you should check out Burger King's pets. They have the iDog, which doesn't even require food or walking! That's a pretty great pet! They come in the BK Kid's Meal and are available in several varieties.

This post was written for Parent Bloggers Network as part of a sweepstakes sponsored by Burger King Corp.

Coughing

Emily (and the rest of us) has a cold.

She tends (and wow, does this sound high-maintenance mommy-ish) to have troubles with her asthma when she's sick.

As in, spells of coughing that leads to her horking her dinner up in her bed. NOT a good time.

Mike put Emily to bed tonight and she was up almost immediately to go to the bathroom. Then she came out to the living room to announce that she was coughing and she needed water.

I told her she wasn't and to get back to bed.

A couple minutes later, she was back. She was coughing. I told her I hadn't heard any coughing. She responded by coughing. The most faked cough I have ever come out of anyone. I told her when I heard enough coughing to be concerned I would bring water in to her, until then GO TO BED.

A few minutes later, I realized that the door to Emily's room was open. I went past and asked why her door was open. Because you're coming in to bring me water, she replied. I explained AGAIN that she's not coughing enough to warrant water (she gets a sippy cup of water to have in bed with her to help the coughing spells) and when she is, I'll bring her water. She responded by coughing. Basically, she cleared her throat at me.

And that's when my ability to not laugh in the face of persistent (and CUTE) 3-year-old in a fleece nighty and princess slippers left me. I cracked up. And reiterated that she is not coughing enough to need water.

She continued to argue her point (making good on my prediction that she's going to be a doctor/lawyer/supermodel/poet laureat).

Now she's sobbing piteously in her room that she's coughing.

Moooommmmyy!! I'm cooooooouuuuuughing! hack, gag, gasp, sob.

Hrm, I wonder if my apple crisp is cool enough to eat yet. I'm gonna go find out.

Oh, PS: the urologist is not that worried about my bilateral hypernephrosis (that's what it's called when your ureters are both backing urine up into your kidneys.) He says my kidneys are healthy. He wants to recheck it again in 3 months and see where we are from there.

PPS: Mike just went in to put a stop to the piteous crying. She's STILL arguing with him about the coughing. Yeah, just a little stubborn.

Bloggable Bits

I (think) I have a bunch of little things to talk about, none of which are full-post worthy. I am trying to take a break from the all-medical-all-the-time posts, too.

Lucky you. Ha.

First off, wow. Go back and read my last post. I was WAY more stoned than I thought I was. I read through it a couple days ago and had to laugh. Maybe it's only funny to me.

Lucy had her 15-month check-up Friday and was pronounced a "perfect 15-month-old" by Dr. Sara. I gave Dr.S my bloggy business card and she said she'd check it out. So, hi!

While at that check-up, Dr.S mentioned that Lucy? Is cutting all EIGHT of her remaining teeth AT THE SAME TIME. No wonder she's been a crank and a half. I guess I should hold off on the "sell her to the gypsies" plan. For now.

I haven't posted recently about Emily's language. She's pretty much just a 3-year-old now. All the cute pronunciations, like "hewwo" and "woofy" are gone. She still doesn't have "r" and "l", but they are coming. "Bama" has transformed into "Bwama". Oh, and she NEVER shuts up. She'll go into minute-long soliloquys about something and restate her point 85 times. Cracks us up. When it's not annoying us half to death.

Speaking of Em, she is also on the auction block (I really have to find some gypsies) for the perpetual whining. Last night we had dinner at my mom's after swimming lessons. Every single thing Emily was told to do? Received a whiny "I don't want to" and fake tantrumy tears.

But swimming lessons? Went GREAT! This has been a big fight since we began a couple weeks ago. This is the first class where I leave her and she goes swimming with 3 or 4 "coaches". They line the kids up on the wall and take them out individually. Great, except Emily cried the WHOLE time. Every time they'd put her on the wall, she'd get up and try to run away. Last night, she actually STAYED on the wall. She jumped into the pool with her life vest on and then again without the life vest (they were teaching safety, hence the life vest). She cried when they dunked her, but this is still progress. yay. Oh, and the drop off went PERFECTLY. I gave her our "super special goodbye" (three kisses, two hugs and a nose rub) and off she went. Woo!

Emily is doing well in preschool, too. I dropped Elliott and Emily off last week and Mrs.A said "Emily has a big stubborn streak, doesn't she?" Yes, yes, she does. Apparently Emily knocked someone's block tower down and then required a fair amount of convincing before she would apologize. She is her mother's daughter. (Not that I knock people's block towers down, but that I am stubborn to the max.)

Emily has also taken to wearing a sweatshirt that zips in the front "because it's really cold in here" and then carrying Oscar, papoose-like, in the front.

Lucy is also starting to talk. She says "pitty" (usually referring to the flower decals I have on her wall by her changing table), "dai-zee" (which means doggie), "da-dee" (her favorite person in the world), "na-nee" (monkey, her best and favorite lovey. this also is her word for Emily), "da" (thank you), "pwess" (please), "mee mee" (milk). You'll notice that there isn't a word in there for "Mommy". That's because she doesn't call me by name. Ever. The little stinker.

We had a Thanksgiving dinner warm-up this weekend. A friend of Mike's was in town from the Phillippines, so we invited him and a co-worker of Mike's over to have dinner with us. We had turkey on the grill (the BEST way to do turkey. The house doesn't get all hot and the turkey comes out all yummy and moist), stuffing (Stove-Top, of course!), steamed broccoli and sweet potatoes. I messed the sweet potatoes up. My mom has this recipe where you par-boil the potatoes, then dump them in a microwave-safe casserole, top them with LOTS of brown sugar and butter and microwave them till they're yummy and soft. Guess who forgot the par-boiling step? Yeah. And then I couldn't figure out what was wrong. Dinner was very yummy and I am really looking forward to the real Thanksgiving. (As long as I don't have dietary restrictions that prevent me from gorging myself stupid. If I have restrictions, then I'm not looking forward to it at all.)

Update

Hi All.

I went to my GI appointment this morning and while the nurse was talking with me, he mentioned that he wanted to get me in for an Endoscopy this afternoon. At 2:30.

After some frantic phone calling, that's exactly what happened.

I left the doctor's office at noon, drove home to drop off the van, and met my mom at my house. She drove Lucy and I over to Courtney's house to pick up Emily and then drove me back to the doctor's office for my endoscopy.

Mike left work early to bring me home and put me to bed.

Interestingly, the doctor says he found that I have reflux. And some abrasions in my duodenum (the upper part of my small intestine). He's not sure that those are the cause of my troubles, but he gave me a prescription for Prilosec and we'll see what happens from there.

I also get to go back next week for the Barium & Burger test. I get to eat a hamburger at 7:45 in the morning with a barium shake. They will watch as the burger and barium make their way through my system. I'll be there ALL DAY.

I am about cross-eyed from the medicine I got during the endoscopy, so I'm going to bug out and go to bed. See ya later!

WaHOO!!

Dr H's office called me this morning. They spoke with the gastro doctor and I was given instructions to call him.

I called the gastro doctor's office and after a lengthy fill-out-the-new-patient-form-over-the-phone session (I seriously hate that), the secretary put me on hold. She came back on the line and said "The first appointment I can get for you is tomorrow at 11. Is that OK?"

Heck yeah!

I was so shocked. I was expecting a wait of WEEKS. I was expecting to hear November or maybe even December as the first available appointment.

Apparently Dr H and Dr C (the gastro guy) talked and Dr C wants me in this week.

Aye, Aye, Sir!

And yesterday I got an appointment with the urologist for Tuesday. They had one available Friday, but Lucy's 15-month check-up was scheduled a mere 20 minutes before the time slot and I didn't want to change that. By the time I though better of that, changed Lucy's appointment and called back, the Friday appointment was gone. Bummer. Fortunately, I was able to call the pediatrician's office back and get Lucy's appointment back in it's original place, because we had pushed it out to November 13, making a 16-month check-up instead of 15. And that would have also pushed the girl's flu shots off till November, too. Less than ideal.

And this way I get to have at least one doctor's appointment for each member of the family every single day this week. I'm pretty sure that is a record.

I can't tell you how excited I am to have this appointment.

And, as Mike pointed out, is pretty darn sad. That I am excited to go see a doctor. Clearly I need to get out more. Or stay in more. Or something.

I also called my Ob/Gyn and told the secretary who answered about my issue and said I wanted to bounce it off the doctor. This is kind of a multi-specialty issue and I want to get her thoughts on it as well. Just because Dr H has his panties in a wad over this doesn't mean that it isn't a common issue. Maybe 80% of all women have this and it's no big deal.

Obviously, I am feeling much more relaxed about this. That's all Mike. I needed to see him and get some hugs and hear that he was freaked out, too and then I spent the rest of the evening doing my own thing. I read some, I blogged some, I watched Dirty Jobs and House (if Mike Rowe and Hugh Laurie can't make me feel better, ain't nobody can). Of course, I reserve the right to freak the hell out about this all over again at any point, so don't think this zen thing is permanent. Which reminds me, I need to call my MI parents and let them know that I am a) a freak with a lazy uterus and b) a walking time bomb as far as peeing goes. Or something. (That was me joking, btw)

Thank you all very, very, very much for the wonderful thoughts and prayers and offers of help. I will be calling in favors and offers of help as this goes on, I'm sure.

Interesting

I had a CT scan this morning to rule out diverticulitis.

Let me tell you, that was a ton of fun! Not.

Anyways, after spending some quality time in the waiting room, the nurse called me over and told me that the CT was negative for diverticulitis (Lainey, thank you so much for your email, I'll get back to you later today.)

The nurse said that my doctor wanted to see me and I should head over to his office from there.

So I did.

And I got brought back and put in one of the exam rooms. As I walked down the hall, I could hear Dr H talking on the phone with someone and he said "CT scan". Yeah, he was totally talking about me. (I can make this assumption because while I was in the waiting room, the nurse told me she was trying to get another doctor on the phone for Dr H to discuss my case with. She finally got through and then brought me back.)

Dr H had me come into his office and he started explaining how the human urinary tract works.

{And I'm thinking, Doc, you've got the wrong body part here... }

It turns out that my uterus? Is feeling a little lazy. It's slumped back and lying on BOTH ureters (kidneys empty to ureters, which go to bladder, which goes to urethra which empties out of the body), blocking the flow of urine from my kidneys.

This is bad.

If this is not corrected, I could get a kidney infection (had one of those, NOT FUN. Even LESS FUN than the CT scan I had this morning.) and if the flow is completely blocked I could stop excreting liquid waste from my body. That's pretty bad, too. (Yes, I am the queen of understatement.)

I asked Dr H if this was also what is causing the ORIGINAL reason I went to see him and he said he doesn't believe so. I asked if we could continue to pursue the cause of all of that while we deal with this and he said no. We'll get back to the less pressing issue of my continual diarrhea and abdominal pain after we deal with the diminishing urinary returns.

I cried.

Intelligently, I know that this is the correct course of action. I know that dealing with this urinary issue is of the utmost importance, but right now, it doesn't feel like it is all that pressing. I don't have a problem peeing. I DO have a problem pooping too much.

Dr H asked questions about our plans for having more kids. He said that one way to correct this is to have a hysterectomy. That option? NOT GOOD.

I am trying very, very hard not to freak out.

I am waiting for Dr H to get in touch with a urologist who has experience with this issue (condition? I don't even have a name for it) and then he'll get back to me with next steps. I'm guessing some of this will be happening yet this week. I don't really know.

Virtual hugs and prayers are much appreciated. I'll update later. Right now I am going to eat some more of my stuffing (Stove Top - yum.)(When stuff like this happens, I start wanting to eat something to make me feel better. Stove Top was the best kind of comfort food I could come up with. It was this or McDonalds, and I wasn't in the mood to listen to BOTH kids whine for french fries after I went through the drive-thru)

Oh and the title? Yeah, that's what Dr H said when he came in. That what I have is interesting. I don't want to be interesting medically. I'd like to be an interesting conversationalist. Or have interesting opinions on things. This? Not so much.

Negativity

The blood test for Celiac Disease came back negative. My doctor decided to send me to see a gastroenterologist to see what he has to say about all this. The dairy free diet that I was on didn't make a bit of difference and my symptoms have been escalating.

They had started out with gas and cramps and diarrhea (you know you wanted to know that) periodically. Then it was 4 or 5 of 7 days. Now it is daily.

And then yesterday in addition to all that fun, I started having general pain in my tummy after eating. Or whenever. Just for the fun of it.

The doctor's office had called Dr C, the gastroenterologist (herein called the gastro) and his office was supposed to get back to Dr H's office. I waited all last week and never heard anything. I talked with them again on Friday and mentioned that this? Is not nearly as much fun as it might sound and I'd really appreciate some speed, if they could.

I called them back this morning to check on the status and update them on my body's version of upping the ante. The nurse promised I would hear from them later today and if not, to feel free to call and pester this afternoon. (Woo! There is nothing I like better than permission to pester.)

Funny. While I was writing this, my doctor called back. He is concerned about the pain I'm feeling and wants to see me again. So I'm going in at 2:45 this afternoon. That is going to make my afternoon a little hectic, given that I am taking Lucy to the pediatrician this afternoon at 4:10. And both kids are in bed (hopefully) sleeping.

Thank goodness for parents. My parents are going to come down and hang out while the kids finish up their nap and then drag them up to meet me at the doctor's office. Hopefully I'll get some grocery shopping done in between appointments.

I apologize for the extended delays between posts here. I am having a problem finding the juju to update my blog and I really just need to get over myself. The tummy problems and general tiredness I'm feeling ain't helping. I'll try to do better.

Shortcuts

Like everyone, I have things that I do the "short-cut" way.

I have specific routes I take to frequent destinations that I know to be the fastest and easiest. You don't really care that when I head to the mall I turn right off my street instead of left, even though they both can get me where I need to go, though.

I have a deep love of convenience products, whether it is Clorox Wipes (LOVE them) or Hamburger Helper (being pregnant with Emily sort of cured me of my love of Cheeseburger Macaroni, but I still LOVE the Tuna Helper). Emily, until very recently, breakfasted on a PopTart every single morning because it was quick and easy for her to eat and for me to prepare. I'm not a morning person and I am certainly not up to cooking anything involved before I've had a shower.

I have only recently begun to make mashed potatoes the "real" way, because I always thought they were a lot of work. That and they tasted disgusting. I discovered the solution to the gross taste thing - Yukon Gold potatotes. Wow! They are SO yummy.

I am very intrigued by Ore-Ida's new Steam n' Mash potatoes. Word has it you can take the bag out of the freezer, toss the chunks of potato into your microwave (in a bowl, of course) and voila! In a few minutes, you have the yumminess of mashed potatoes without the water-boiling and hand-mixer mashing.

Oh, and every time I wrote potato in this post? I had to go back and remove the extra 'e' that I can't seem to stop putting on there. Damn that Dan Quayle. I could spell potato just fine until he insisted some kid spelled it wrong.

This post is brought to you on behalf of the Parent Bloggers Network and Ore-Ida's new Steam n' Mash Potatoes.

Emily, DDS

Emily and I had our semi-annual dentist appointment last week and I added yet another reason why I LOVE this dentist to my somewhat lengthy list.

When we got there, I was filling out our medical history update sheets and the hygienist called Emily back. And she got up and went, asking only to bring Oscar with her. Once we helped the hygienist understand that Oscar was her stuffed friend and NOT the baby in the stroller, she was cool with that.

I got called back a few minutes later and Emily was sitting in the chair, getting her teeth checked like she does it every day. Or something. I was surprised because she'd been whining on the drive over that she didn't want to go to the dentist.

Emily's teeth checked out great, and so did Oscar's. Emily tells me he has 3 teeth up top and 2 on the bottom.

While we were waiting for the dentist to do the post-cleaning inspection on my teeth, Emily told me that she wants to be a dentist when she grows up. I guess we'll see.

Our Song

No, not Mike's and my song (we actually don't have a song as a couple. There are a bunch of songs we like that speak to us, but when it comes down to it, there is no "Our Song" for us. Made it challenging for wedding dances and such.)

The song to which I'm referring today is the song we sing as a family.

There are a bunch of those.

The one that gets sung the most is the "Daddy" song. Mike made it up when he was trying to get Emily to say "Da-Da".

It goes something like this: Daddy, Daddy, duh-de-duh-de-duh-de Daddy, Daddy, Daddy. Repeat until your ears bleed or the small person gets bored and moves on to something else. This song is great (for us) because all of our names are 2 syllables, so the Daddy Song is also the Mommy Song, the Emily Song and the Lucy Song.

Ok, so Emily's name isn't 2 syllables, it's more, but you know what I mean.

When Emily was in the midst of her language explosion, we'd hear her in her room at night, singing the Daddy Song with the words "Emily's Computer". She didn't quite grasp the concept. Gave Mike and I a HUGE chuckle, though.

We have other songs we sing, but the Daddy song is the only one of our own invention. Other family favorites are I'm A Little Teapot, Pollywog In a Bog (BNL's Snacktime album is on continuous play in my van).

The Little Gym uses the London Bridges tune to get kids to pick up toys. Every once in a while, when I think of it, I steal that.

This post was written for Parent Bloggers Network as an entry for a contest sponsored by Bush's Beans. Help Bush's Beans come up with replacement words for the infamous "Beans, Beans, the musical fruit", which is, according to Bush's Beans, inaccurate. According to me? Still pretty darn funny.

Newbie

I mentioned a while ago that my mom was working on starting her own blog.

It's up now. Here.

Go check it out and give her a welcome to the blogging world for me.

Oh, and the puppy she references in the post?

Is the current record holder for World's Cutest Dog. I dare you to argue with me. Double dog dare you, even.

Here We Go Again

I have been having some ... well, let's say "digestive issues" and leave it at that.

Near as I can remember, it's been going on for about 4-5 years. It has been getting increasingly worse the past year or so and finally is to the point that I made an appointment and went to the doctor.

After I made the appointment, I started keeping a food diary, hoping that I would be able to find some kind of pattern to the issues I've been having.

The only pattern I have found is that there is no pattern at all.

The doctor actually agreed that I seem to have an issue (my doctor has a way of making me feel like the worst kind of hypochondriac so to have him feel that I have a problem is a big deal to me. He's very nice about it, but I always get this feeling that he's thinking "Not her again. What's wrong this time?").

He ordered a blood test to rule out celiac disease (Hi Karen!) and suggested I go on a 3-week dairy-free diet.

Again.

Ugh.

I gave him a fair amount of crap about that, telling him that ice cream is one of my favorite foods and when he agreed, telling him that when he sits down with a big bowl of that creamy deliciousness he needs to THINK OF ME.

So, here we go again with the dairy-free.

I am pretty (like 99%) sure that the problem is NOT lactose because I had the problem while I was dairy-free a year ago for Lucy. Of course, I am a enormous geek and I forgot to tell Dr.H that. That might've been handy for him to know.

Fortunately, I have been down this road before and know what things I can and cannot have. I also have already developed a taste for rice and soy milk, so hopefully life won't be as challenging this time. Or at least not as challenging in this particular arena.