I’m unduly excited to go shopping for girl clothes.

I read this on Boing Boing tonight and immediately said $10. I asked the Porkchop and he thought for a few seconds and said $5. Ten minutes later he had convinced me he was right, but only. just. barely.

If you answered $10 you are inclined to believe in religion. If you answered $5 you are inclined to disbelieve.

Why? Because, according to new research reported in tomorrow’s issue of the journal Science, the $10 answer indicates that you are an intuitive thinker, and the $5 answer indicates that you solve problems analytically, rather than following your gut instinct.

A Christian school, for the most part, is not that different from a public school. Aside from the curriculum and the smaller class size (due mostly to the cost, I suspect), the kids are still kids. The schools I went to in elementary and high school were so small that I can still remember the names of my classmates – first and last. I can recall the groups, who got along best with who and in particular, the few kids who were different. My graduating class had 29 students, roughly half of whom I had been in school with since second grade, and the other half who I’d known since ninth. It makes for a very tight overall group – even if we weren’t always hanging out together, we were always a unit to everyone outside of the class.

And we were a unit that made it hard for new kids to join – particularly if they didn’t fall into one of the “groups” that already existed. There was the group from my elementary school and the group from another Christian elementary school. Then those groups were broken down into those who went to the Presbyterian church where our high school was located and those who didn’t. And then there were the outliers, the kids who were transfers over our four years there and even kids who started in ninth grade, but didn’t fit into one of the groups.

I know their names, and I remember when they left (only a couple made it all four years) and I wonder now if they felt bullied or hurt because they weren’t included. High school is hard, private or public, and the rest of us should’ve made it easier. We were, after all, a religious school.

There’s no big bullying event or series of events I can remember. It’s possible they didn’t feel bullied at all, maybe just left out (my memory is shit), but being left out can be just as damaging.

We are so lucky to be alive in this day and this age. We haven’t cured cancer or AIDS (yet – I do believe one will be cured in my lifetime), but we’ve made such amazing strides in medicine and those strides have saved millions of lives.

The Peanut has not progressed with eating the way other kids have. There’s no way around trying to describe it – he doesn’t eat much of anything, he doesn’t really feed himself and what he does try to eat, he mostly spits out after absorbing whatever liquid comes out. The Chop and I have tried for months to change this with no success, so at his most recent well visit, our pediatrician gave us the numbers for specialists.

One scheduled us for an appointment in six weeks (sigh), one had no openings and one scheduled an intake appointment almost immediately – which happened today. She came to the house, filled out reams of paperwork, talked to us and watched him eat.

And for the first time in weeks, I feel a huge sense of relief. The hardest part about wondering if your child might have a problem is everyone else in your life disagreeing. He might be picky, it’ll take time, just give him some space, etc., are just a few of the responses we’ve heard when discussing his problems with eating. But he’s our child and we know that something is not right.

The intake person thinks he’ll qualify – he has to score low enough in a particular category to qualify – and if he doesn’t, she said, we can use clinical opinion to make the decision that he needs to be in the program. It’s a great program, largely covered by the state and our insurance (we have to pay $1500 a year, but a private program can be upwards of $1500 a month) and she is going to request to be on his team (of course he charmed her – my son has lady killer skills), and we’re ready for some help.

He’s so smart in other ways – the intake person loved interacting with him – but his complete un-interest in food is a problem.

I’ve realized that I actually don’t want to know what’s happening in the lives of people I haven’t seen or hung out with since high school. HIGH SCHOOL. The place I graduated from 11 (omg) years ago.

Things I don’t want to know:

• That your husband is addicted to porn and after trying to work it out, you are divorcing. Maybe you should’ve dated longer than a year before you got married? Maybe you shouldn’t have gotten knocked up RIGHT BEFORE you got married? Especially since both of you had another kid each from previous relationships? And you both claim to be religious? I dunno. I don’t judge.
• That you voraciously support that douchebag pastor Mark Driscoll and think he knows everything. Seriously. This guy is an idiotic asshole. Why do you think he knows everything?!
• That you practice NFP (Natural Family Planning) and that you think it’s the BEST birth control and that this is something you wrote: “It’s knowing your body and communicating as a couple, respecting each other, and willful self control when necessary. It’s that and so much more.” I don’t need to know that about you. EVER.
• That you knocked up your wife on your anniversary – and you know that for a FACT. No, ew, over share.
• That you are pregnant, but still going to clubs. Regularly. And staying out until the wee hours. Why? Aren’t you tired? Also, why do I care?
• That you are pregnant AGAIN. For the 4th, 5th, 6th time. And your “quiver” is full. Or maybe not. Whatever God wants. Really? Are you perfectly willing to just pop out babies forever? Why are condoms and birth control bad again?

Maybe I just hate being “friends” with the people I never really knew in the first place. Or the people whose lives have diverged so much from my own that reading about what they do now is irritating.

I’m of course interrupting repeatedly and debating how soon I’m allowed to start sending stuff. I have a plethora of gift ideas now that I’ve had a kid – good, very good, awesome gift ideas – and at this moment, one dear friend and one sister-in-law just have to find out what they’re having so I can start sending stuff.

SO FREAKING EXCITED.

The Porkchop’s dad has Parkinson’s, a disease without the stigma of AIDS, but with the same outcome. Like Magic Johnson, Michael J. Fox has raised awareness and ensured that we’ll have him around for years and years. Celebrity is a double-edged sword, but in the right hands, it can move mountains.

Never underestimate the power of a few committed people to change the world. Indeed, it is the only thing that ever has. – Margaret Mead