7 Quick Takes about parenting fails, Evernote socks, and fruitcake (again)
If you haven’t read the comments on that topic, treat yourself to a quick scan. I loved The Scientist by Coldplay as the INFP anthem, and Part of Your World from The Little Mermaid for ENFP and ENFJ. And then we had the INTJs, who had me laughing out loud with their responses, which were so wonderfully true to form:
“INTJ here — wait, music? Who has time for that when you can be listening to podcasts and absorbing/integrating information?” – Erika
“As an INTJ, I would more likely to write my own song rather than being constrained by something already written…(It’s a curse, really.)” -Christine
“I’m an INTJ, and I was going to agree with the earlier comment suggesting we write our own song because no song in existence is likely to be truly accurate. (Gotta come up with the perfect solution, right?)” – Emily
Stay awesome, INTJs.
Who knew that fruitcake was such a hotbutton topic? When I wrote last week’s post I figured that the personality type theme song question would get a lot of responses, but I had no idea that my passing comment about Joe’s distaste for fruitcake would garner so much feedback. My email inbox has been flooded with fruitcake recipes that promise to convert even the most hardened fruitcake skeptic.
I forwarded one such recipe to Joe, thinking that he might be curious. The following exchange resulted:
From: “Joe Fulwiler”
Date: Sep 21, 2013 7:56 AM
Subject: Re: This fruitcake recipe actually looks pretty good – maybe we should try it sometime?
To: “Jennifer Fulwiler”
That could make sense as a cultural experience. Kind of like eating monkey brain while visiting a remote tribe. But not something I’d desire to repeat at home.
I ran into Kathryn Whitaker at the Dominican Sisters‘ wonderful convent-warming party this weekend. Five minutes into our conversation, a lady came up to Kathryn and said she loves her blog and wants to know how she does it, which is what I perceive happens pretty much every time she leaves the house.
A while later, my seven-year-old started hobbling around and saying that she couldn’t walk because of her shoes. Mother of the Century over here didn’t notice that my daughter had walked out of the house in stiff dress shoes with no socks, which is not exactly ideal for an event where you’re going to be on your feet for hours in the heat. I was standing there throwing my hands to the heavens, wondering whatever we would do, when Kathryn walked up and said, “I have an extra pair of girls shoes in the car that should fit her. Size 1, right?” I very gratefully said yes, and she handed the keys to her sons and told them precisely where they could find this pair of shoes in her (evidently super-organized) car.
They turned out to be wonderfully comfortable boots, complete with the Texas A&M logo to give a little shout-out for the Aggies at the event. As I carried the new footwear back to my daughter, I passed the lady who had asked Kathryn how she does it. I wanted to run up to her, grab her by the shoulders, and say, “You have chosen the right sensei, woman. Kathryn Whitaker is competent enough for all of us.”
The blogger behind the uber-popular Cake Wrecks site recently did an extended internet fast, and she wrote a great post about what she learned on her personal blog. All of her insights are excellent, but my favorite was the one titled, “I need to accomplish physical, tangible goals to be happy.” She wrote:
When I stopped crafting and making things with my hands in order to crank out more writing online, everything went out of whack. I lost focus. I lost my drive. The work was paying off, because Epbot was the most successful it had ever been when I hit that wall, but I reached a point where I couldn’t remember what I was working so hard for anymore.
During my Sabbatical John and I did both a major home remodel (which you’ll see soon) and our costume projects, so every morning I got up with a physical goal in mind. THAT was what got me out of bed. Once I accomplished something tangible – from painting a room to carving a leather bracer – it was so much easier to sit at the laptop and dive back into my virtual head space.
(I found this through another blog, but now I can’t remember which one. Whoever recently linked to this, thanks!)
One evening last weekend, my crazy two-year-old (the Shaun the Sheep fan) took a great interest in what Joe and I were drinking. I said that it was “wine,” forced myself to make a very-unnatural-feeling “yuck!” face, and offered her a milk sippy cup. (Okay, it was a bottle. My two-year-old still has bottles sometimes, because that’s how I deal with life around here.) Anyway, she indicated that she would prefer the red liquid in my glass by smacking the milk bottle out of my hand and trying to climb onto the table, then trying to climb on top of me to get to the glass.
In a moment of parenting brilliance, I decided to fight fire with fire and let her see what it tastes like. I did the “wine! yuck!” thing again, and tipped the glass so that a drop would touch her lips. She paused for a moment, and I waited for the smug feelings of self-satisfaction that would arrive when I saw her twist her face in disgust. Alas, instead, her eyes lit up and she lunged for my glass shouting “MORE WINE!”
I thought the worst of it was over after we got her to bed that night (sans her much-requested glass of Sonoma cab), but I realized the full consequences of my parenting fail the next day, when I took her to the grocery store. When I rolled the cart past the beer and wine section, she jumped up, pointed a chubby finger at some bottles of merlot on display, and began shouting “WINE!!! WANT WINE!!!!!!” at the top of her lungs. As I tried to wrangle her back into a sitting position, her demands for wine only got louder and more emphatic, which attracted the attention of pretty much all the other people in the store, who were undoubtedly quite curious about how this two-year-old a) knows what wine is, and b) knows that she really, really likes it.
Let me guess: you were just sitting there thinking, Evernote is so amazing. There is nothing — NOTHING — that it could do to improve my life that it hasn’t already!
You’re wrong. Because Evernote now sells socks.
And they’re not just any socks. They’re like the mullet of socks, but in a good way. You know how the mullet haircut motto is “business in the front, party in the back”? Well, Evernote has taken that principle to a new, glorious level by creating socks that are “party on the bottom, business on the top” — funky, striped colors cover the foot, while the part that shows above the shoe is basic black.
Thank you to the people of Evernote for making the world a better place.
You did read Heather’s post called I’m No Theologian, right? Okay, good. Just wanted to check.
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