Once or twice a year, with a nod to Esquire, I write a "What I've Learned . . ." blog. Because if you're not learning new things, you might as well be dead. And because, frankly, life will sometimes come up to you with a two-by-four and beat the crap out of you and everything you THINK you've learned will be undone and you start from a whole new perspective. So without further introduction, this is what I've learned.

That there is a reason children look so innocent and beautiful while they sleep. Because some days, that's the only thing keeping you from running away from home.That mastering the art of a perfect hard-boiled egg is a life skill every human should have.That the cruelest people I have ever encountered I met in the guise of a church, and that no cross, no Star of David, no temple, mosque, or cathedral will ever guarantee even the most basic of human kindnesses. So look for good people in all walks of life and in every disguise.That I no longer pray. But that gardening comes close. I love cheese. Even stinky cheese. I should live in France.My most prized possession is some weird cross-dressing chicken cookie jar with a sailor cap. It belonged to my grandmother. And that pretty much everything I value most is monetarily worth nothing. I will never master the art of a clean and tidy desk. I should stop trying. But I can't help aspiring to it.My least favorite household chore is emptying the dishwasher. So now I make my kids do it.My father is never going to be friends with my cat.Neither is my mother. But she will feed the dogs leftovers and they love her.I have fought Crohn's for most of my adult life, and this year has been brutal. I don't know where I get my fight from. Really. When I think I'm "done," somehow I am not.That the MINUTE I get the carpets cleaned, as I am writing the check to the carpet cleaning man, Pirate Boy will spill something.Same goes for painting the walls and scuff marks and crayon.I am comfortable in silence.Sounds I adore are Pirate Boy laughing, wind rustling the trees, and rain falling with the windows open so I hear the drops pelting the leaves and the roof.When I am in the hospital, after many days without food, and the nurses say, "You can try to eat now, so have your family bring your favorite comfort foods," I immediately think "warm sushi rice."That my biggest indulgence is sushi rice means the nursing staff thinks I'm strange. Apparently, most people think "McDonald's."That mastering the art of making my own sushi rice is more complicated than one might think. Apparently, using only wooden utensils and fanning the rice are part of it.I'm going through a poetry phase.Like all phases, who knows how long it will last.I think in words, and the nonstop dialogue keeps me up at night. I guess this makes me a writer. Or insane. Or both. So what have you learned?