So, this is officially my 100th post. When I paged back through all my posts, I was shocked at how much I've written since starting this blog. (Though, I'm sure anyone who knows me is not at all surprised.)
Today, I'm going to add to the 8452 things about me with a theme... why I talk the way I do.
20- I over-explain most concepts to our kids (and I guess to adults, too). I am constantly asking, "Does that make sense?" and, "Do you have any questions?" This is because, as a child myself, I formed some strange opinions of the world when left to my own devices (see 19 thru 16). There is so much room for misinterpretation when one person communicates with another.
19- I used to think that trolls (you know, the fuzzy-haired, toy kind) lived in my Grandma's toilet. I thought this because she always brought them out when we took baths over there, but never at any other time. When I looked, I couldn't find where she kept them. She also had a very strict rule that you needed to keep the toilet lid closed. I assumed it was to keep them from escaping. I pictured their home to be some sort of vast, plumbing, tunnel system through which they could visit various bathrooms. I was terrified of using her toilet. Obviously.
18- I used to think that you needed to go to the doctor to get pregnant. My mom had explained that babies were made when sperm from a man got together with an egg from a woman, but she left out the mechanics of the transfer. I assumed that the doctor always needed to help.
17- I used to think that your heart moved around in your chest, sort of like the moon moving around the earth. I thought this because whenever the doctor listened to my chest, he listened in several different spots. And he would always tell me that he was listening to my heart. If a doctor didn't know where my heart was, it was most likely because it wasn't always in the same place.
16- Once when I was 3 or 4, I thought I was dying. Literally. I'd had regular stomachaches and the doctor told us that I had a very early ulcer. The thing is, our neighbor's husband had died of a bleeding ulcer. No one thought to tell me that what I had was very different. Needless to say, my stomachaches got much worse for awhile. I have no idea how long I believed this, but eventually (several months? Less than a year?) I realized that I wasn't going to die anytime soon. My mom felt horrible when I finally told her about it. This right here, is the main reason that it can take me an hour to answer the simplest of questions.
And, for clarifications sake (see, told you), I was less than 4 years old when I formulated all of these opinions.
And I no longer believe in any of them... except the trolls. :)