We're taking out the acs this weekend, too!!

I made a lot of smoothies for Emmett in lieu of veggies and he grew up pretty frickin' hale.

We're in that phase with Peanut where it's a tossup if anything appeals, or if she'll eat everything in sight, or if the mac & cheese from yesterday is now verboten. What's worse, though, is that she's totally forgotten her restaurant manners & nothing can bribe her to sit at table for more than 10 minutes. Since we're travelling, this is a big issue. It will pass, I know, but it's not easy right now.

My boys were raised exactly the same with food. Nursed forever, ate vegan until they were 2. Then they ate whatever I put forth, or not. Now as adults one eats absolutely anything except mushrooms. Loves to cook, and experiments with any variety of unknown ethnicity food. The other is super picky. Never uses any condiments, a hamburger means just hamburger, no bun or cheese or ketchup. No veggies except raw carrots. A good example is their ramen preparation. Bobby will create a masterpiece with peanut sauce and bits of veggies and meat. Brendon won't even put the spice pack in it. One also weighs 100 pounds more than the other son, which if they split would be ideal as the picky eater is scary skinny. Both are very healthy, so maybe they eat what they need.

I'm partly packed and hope to head south by noon today, before my feathers freeze.

Also, apparently I ramble the most before I am well caffeinated.

oh my god when we're in a meeting and the devs are speaking French but the meeting hasn't started yet my coworker says HELLOOOOO really loud to get them to speak english and it's so embarrassing.

Oh, man, Dana. So rude.

My husband just said that she sounds like Jerry Lewis.

Aeryn still won't eat most of what I put in front of her. I'm pretty sure a blood test would reveal she is at least 90% fried potato and buttered toast. Dylan outgrew his super-picky stage around age 6.

I have a super-petty work complaint: we have a regular thing where people are recognized for going "above and beyond" their regular work. I don't think I'll ever get this! Because anything I might conceivably do is sort of my regular work. I thought I might have a shot this month, because of a big project I worked on, but no. Oh well.

I also realize this is what happens when you are more senior, and as Don Draper said, "That's what the money is for." But I wouldn't mind the other stupid recognition, too!

OK, getting over it.

I know that when I was a little kid the aunt I stayed with during the workday would offer me a choice of two options for meals—I think having that say in the decision mostly warded off refusals to eat entirely.

Then again, while I was a picky eater it was over specific things I didn't like such as spinach, beans, or anything with gravy on it (still have aversions to the latter two). I think I was always game to eat a selection of vegetables like corn, tomatoes, and lettuce; and was happy enough to eat vegetable soups and stews if I could pick the lima beans out.