I thought I’d give due deference to the sentence I hear the most today by making it the title of this post. I find securities regulation interesting, I do, really. But seriously, exercise your put? Honestly. If you want to know more about it be sure to google “exercise your put” with the quotation marks. For if you neglect to include the quotation marks you’ll find yourself exercising your way to a better sex life at lifetime.com be warned.
I find it funny how sometimes you just vibe with a professor and sometimes you just don’t. Two weeks into the semester I have already figured out which classes to just keep my mouth shut in. I’ll spare you the backstory and details behind my reasoning but the gist of it is I was trying to explain the nuanced difference between the liberty interest of a child raised in a biological or adoptive parental home and a child raised in an institutional setting whether in a contemporary or historical sense. As I saw it, it all somehow boiled down to what I termed influence and control. It made total sense to me before I raised my hand. She called on me and I started to express myself with what I thought was total clarity only to be rewarded with 0 feedback. I mean a completely blank gaze, nothing.
What I don’t know is if that’s her schtick, you know? Let the students get it all out without allowing your facial expressions to color their opinions. On the other hand, I tend to think that she was really just waiting for a kernel of something not completely non-sensical that she could grab hold of and reshape into something palatable to the rest of the room. Happily I was only partially and not completely mortified because the woman who was called on next began her response with yeah, I totally agree with what she said. That’s where the whole vibe-ing thing comes in because it doesn’t matter if you make sense to other people in the room. If the professor doesn’t “get” you then your participation is worthless. Isn’t that awesome?
So Chase’s pediatrician called with the results of her lead screening. Under 10 is considered OK but she’s a 5 so now I’m all panicking about what to do. I did some research online and read some other local blogs and came up with the number to the Coalition to End Childhood Lead Poisoning here in Baltimore. The woman there was very helpful but basically there’s not really any way to tell where it’s from because we have none of the big culprits around. I think her best suggestion was that there may be residue and dust from the rehab of this and/or the neighbor’s house still trapped inside because of the central heat and a/c. She suggested a total top to bottom cleaning so I broke down and called a service. There’s no way I can accomplish a top to bottom cleaning. All of the walls and trim has to be done, the windows, etc. Even if I had the time to do it I’d much rather be doing something other than washing windows (like sleeping.. hey, a girl can dream). Some cleaning is therapeutic but at that level it’s just plain old work. Anyway, we’ll see what this lady says, she comes highly recommended. I’m trying not to totally freak out about it but I am.
We had burritos for dinner tonight. Usually burritos is just a euphemism for leftovers but we do actually like them. Tonight though I made them fresh and did a rif on a recipe by Rocco DiSpirito of all people. I thought it was an ingenious way to make burrito filling. It was nice and saucy but not runny and was composed of all the delicious filing ingredients I like to put in anyway. Basically you make a disgusting looking (but delicious) sauce of a can of refried beans, about 3/4 of a cup of fresh salsa and some water, about 1/2 a cup. You mix that together and then add it to the pan once the meat has browned and simmer it down to your desired consistency. Viola! Dinner is done. I call it a rif because I tossed in some frozen corn for good measure. Frankly, I think it’s an ingenious way to incorporate the refried beans which I love but the remains of which always languish in the fridge until they get hairy and someone throws them away. Chase loved it. She wanted her own burrito with extra guac and sour cream, a girl after my own heart. I tried to give her just filling and she was insulted.
Lastly, new today: standing unassisted. Uh-oh…