Baby Echos

The school gives me six names, six children, all five years old, who need to learn to read. Their names aren't like mine, names from lands generations away, held close by years of oppression. But they are still kids, my kids. They prefer bumping fists to high fives. I show them I can learn. They show me they can, too. This is our story.

Pious Poultry Sighting

Due a patch of fowl weather, this bird made it through Thanksgiving 2009 by the skin of its waddle. Score one for the power of prayer!

Toxic and loving it!

We did it! The Captain and I detoxed together and no one filed divorce papers. I had my full-caf cappuccino Friday morning with a gingerbread bagel and I swear I was higher than a kite within 15 minutes. Honestly, my pupils were dilated. It's taken me this long to come back down to keyboard level.

On a more serious note, I've decided that diet colas are not my friend and that I'm going to stay away from them. Since going back to school I've ingested a sickening amount of caffeine. It was taking its toll, evidently, because I never got a fever despite having flu-like symptoms for two days and a mild headache for five.

I have to say that the Captain was especially irritating over the duration. As he's been known to eat things like muesli without the pretense of detox, all he seemed to crave was his evening beer. I, on the other hand, was missing something morning, noon, and night. Sometimes he looked so damn relaxed that I was tempted to wave an open bottle of Guinness under his nose just to see him suffer. Let's just say detoxing does not bring out my best qualities.

So detox is over and it's only three days until American Thanksgiving. Stay tuned for pictures of my neighbours' inflatable fowls. Leave it to American suburbia to take gratitude to a whole new level.

Confessions from Detox: Day 5

I entered the lion's den today — Panera. I was there to buy bagels for tomorrow morning's celebratory breakfast. Dreams of caffeine-stoked carbicide danced in my head as the smell of warm, gingerbread bagels greeted me at the door.

It's not been easy, this detox thing. I've discovered that I reap an incredible amount of comfort from the more-than-occasional sweet and cuppa. It has definitely made me aware of how often a convenient cracker, bowl of pasta or granola bar takes the place of a vegetable or fruit in my diet.

An unexpected byproduct of this experiment was how my new habits influenced the girls. While I did not insist that they eat what I was eating, suddenly Emma was scoffing down rice cakes with baba ghanouj and Mouse was fighting me for the raisins. It was nice to see them making new food choices of their own accord. I, for one, will not miss my oatmeal tomorrow, but something tells me that Emma will be asking for some.

Confessions from Detox: Day 4

It's either swine flu or my entire body is striking on grounds of caffeine and refined carbohydrate abandonment. I snuck in a cup of black tea with soy milk this morning. It wasn't the same and didn't change a thing. Thank goodness for Tylenol.

Confessions from Detox: Day 3

The corn noodles clumped. The rice noodles disintegrated. What can I say? I can't wait 'til Friday.

More Confessions from Detox: Day 2

Today, of all days, my professor brings homemade cookies for the class. Grrr!!!!!!

Confessions from Detox: Day 2

I walk into the library's Starbucks for my usual after-first-lecture pick me up. The coffee girl leaps to her feet.

"Cappuccino, right?"

"I wish! No, a green tea and please don't let me buy a cappuccino until Friday."

I explain that I'm in detox.

She laughs.

Confessions from Detox: Day 1

I am an absolute bear. I'd just as soon send me to a deserted island for the next four-and-a-half days. As for the Captain, I think he'd buy the ticket...one way.

Allow me to bring you up to speed: a friend convinced me to do a 'detox' diet for five days: no caffeine, no sweets, no processed junk, no alcohol for 120 hours. I agreed mainly because I knew my tea, coffee, soft drink and Halloween candy intake was getting out of hand. Given the raging headache I am experiencing a mere six hours in, I would say 'out of hand' was a gross understatement.

Is my real personality a by-product of Tetley, Nespresso, and Hershey's Heath Bars? Only time will tell.