Mothering Mayhem: Life with the Wild Boys

I have long been fascinated with science and medicine. Hence the sports medicine major and biology minor.  And up until the cop banned me from Web MD during my first pregnancy I would obsess over potential illnesses but also over baby development.  And somehow I still remember that babies are born with reflexes which they outgrow during the course of childhood, like the rooting reflex for nursing, and the walking/stepping reflex, and the Moro reflex. The Moro reflex, as I recall, was a startle reflex believed to be left over from our time as monkeys, when we needed to grab on if we started falling, and was named for the discovering physician.  I'm thinking I may be on my way to recognition in a similar fashion. It appears that babies, or at least MY babies, were also born with a heightened sense of pheremone detection.  It doesn't seem to be limited, however, to simply sexual situations (although believe me, they can sense those from about a mile aw...

Ah, parenthood.  I sit here typing, I am slowly recovering from a raw throat and sore body as a result of a full Saturday of family fun.  But I feel compelled to type, if only for standing firm in my resolve to seek my own nerdy revenge.  That's right, a woman who slighted me has become (dramatic drum roll)....blog fodder. Let's start at the beginning, shall we? (Mainly to provide me with a little bragging rights, admittedly). I am the ultimate example of living vicariously through my children.  I was a super unathletic child.  Nothing about this has really changed, come to think of it, since I can still sustain serious injury opening a drawer. Take soccer, for example.  I played for three years and never made it past fullback.  In three years I could count on one hand how many times I touched a ball during a game.  But I made countless dandelion necklaces, and could make the majority of weeds into projectile weapons, so that has to count f...