If a baseball and bat cost $110, and the bat costs $100 more than the ball, how much does the ball cost?

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.

Sadly we passed on our cold to the Porkchop, so our grand plan to see the Avett Brothers was thwarted. He’s been in bed since the Peanut went down for the night, while I’ve wiled away the evening watching On Demand and working.

I’m currently watching Water for Elephants, a really fantastic book that was turned into an OK movie. Casting Edward from Twilight was their first mistake, sigh.

The Avetts are amazing live.

The beauty of an apology is that everyone wins because it reveals not only who we are, but who we hope we are. – A teacher, a student and a 39-year-long lesson in forgiveness.

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.

My Dad started his new job on the first of April, and so far, he loves it. Loves the people, loves getting back to work, loves the area, etc. We all knew he missed working, but it’s pretty funny how much he missed working. My Mom hasn’t moved yet (neither has their stuff), so he’s alone in an apartment in a very small town, which means when he’s not working, he likes to Skype us.

He likes to Skype the Peanut actually, lol, and he likes to text us for smart phone support. I just received this message an hour ago…

BTW, how come your mother gets emails of the Peanut every day and I don’t?….just wondered….got all these gigabits of picture storage wasting away…..and only about 5 pictures of him on my new cell….

I keep telling them to get on FB, as I regularly fail to remember to email and text them pictures that I’ve already posted, but they’re still resisting. Sigh.

This is a most fascinating article. And yes, it’s from 2006 – but it is highly relevant.

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.

While I understand and respect the purpose and reason for taxes, I’m still sad that I have to pay them – particularly when my tax rate hovers around 25-30%. The estimated taxes we paid last year were just shy of what I needed to pay, so fortunately my last check for 2011 wasn’t too bad. My first check for 2012, on the other hand, was very sad.

I’ve got to figure out how to be more like Mitt Romney… and that is the only time anyone has ever uttered those words, lol. Because he’s taxed on investments and not earnings, his tax rate is half mine. Total nonsense if you ask me.