Archive for the ‘Jens’ Category

Owie, Daddo?

Filed under: Health...or Lack Thereof,Jens,News,Photos,Such is Life — Amy @ 9:59 pm

Then I rounded the corner of the stairs and saw my husband in an enormous full-length arm cast, suspended from his neck.

In short, Jens was playing basketball in his usual kamikaze style and collided with another player.  When he landed on his arm, he severely dislocated his elbow and chipped a piece off the joint.

After popping it back into place himself and a trip to the ER, he was home and bandaged and in a lot of pain – despite hydrocodone, Tylenol, and the ibuprofen shot they gave him in the butt.  I got a preview of 60 years from now when I had to give him a bath and dress him, as he was unable to do much of anything himself.

The next day he went to an orthopedic surgeon who took more x-rays and determined that he was unable to determine the actual prognosis.  So Jens has to go back tomorrow (Monday) for a CAT scan.  They need to find out whether the piece of bone floating around in his arm is one large chunk or several smaller pieces, and from there will make the decision on whether or not he needs surgery.

Three days post-incident, he’s very swollen and still in quite a bit of pain.  However, he has gained a lot of movement and is able to wear just a sling and ice pack most of the time.

The kids have been very supportive.  Kaelin likes to help with the bandages and Koren asks him every day “What happen, Daddo?”  He’s very empathetic.  Today Jens accidentally banged his arm and as he was nursing his pain, Koren rushed over to offer his condolences.  “What happen, Daddo?”  Upon being given the recap, he offered, “Hugs are nice.  Kisses nice.  Hug it?  Kiss it, Daddo?”

It appears that Daddo will be well taken care of as he recovers.

Sympathy

I find that my capacity for sympathy is inversely proportionate to the amount of energy my son drains from me throughout the day.

Today was a beating.

He’s teething and he’s got to be one of the worst teethers I’ve ever met.  He cried ALL. DAY.  He wanted to be held the entire day so that he could wail without ceasing DIRECTLY INTO MY EAR CANAL.  Nothing I did pacified him for more than 5 minutes.  He’s hungry, but apparently it hurts to eat because every time I give him something he refuses it and starts crying again.  I’ve given up on Baby Orajel because he’s not a fan of having his mouth numbed and it just makes him cry more.  I am officially WORN DOWN.

Consequently, I’m taking him to Mother’s Day Out tomorrow and letting his teachers deal with him until they call me to come pick him up because I NEED A BREAK, even if it’s only for an hour.

Jens appears to have developed an infection in his broken hand.  This was not a good evening for him to be running around filling prescriptions for antibiotics when the single thing that got me through the day was knowing that he could take Koren off my hands when he got off work.  So while I had enough self restraint and sense not to bitch about it, the level of fussing and pampering he received from me over his pain and injury was pretty low.

Koren has already woken up several times.  I can tell it’s going to be a tough night.  For him.  I’m turning off the baby monitor tonight.

Unable to remember the last time I was this mortified

Filed under: Are You Kidding Me?,Jens,Just Shoot Me,Marriage — Amy @ 6:34 pm

The underwear was still in the dryer when Kaelin and I got through with our shower this morning. With a towel around my head, I peeked out of the upstairs bedroom door to see if there were any observant passersby through the large window that looks in on our balcony. No one was out there, so I did my Lightning Judo Sprint and rushed across the balcony to the stairs. J gives me a hard time for being paranoid about somebody looking into our house and seeing me naked.

The blinds on the rest of the front windows were closed, so once I made it down the stairs I was pretty much safe. I had left Kaelin in the shower and she was calling something to me, so I stopped at the bottom of the stairs and called back to her.

It was then that I noticed some movement directly in front of me. A man with a tape measure standing at the back door (which is one giant window) was throwing his hand over his eyes and whirling away from the door.

Shrieking some expletive or another, I pulled out another one of my Ninja moves and dove across the living room into the bathroom. The dog started barking. I was trapped in the bathroom with no way to get to my clothing. J came down the stairs after the barking dog and I whimpered something to him about who the hell was looking into our back door and PLEASE BRING ME SOME UNDERWEAR.

He did, but not before stopping by the bathroom to laugh at my misfortune, not unlike the time I stood around laughing at him when Kaelin sprayed him with globs of projectile poo three times during the course of a single diaper change. We have that kind of supportive relationship.

Evidently, the Title Company had sent some guys over to do a land survey. J knew they were here because he answered the door while I was in the shower. He swears he yelled upstairs to me that they were here.

I don’t know what was worse: the fact that I full-on exposed myself to a perfect stranger, or his reaction of running away at the sight of my nudity. Perhaps it’s time to do some grooming…

The Good News is I’ve Lost 6 Pounds

Despite my good intentions, I may have to change the look around here sooner than expected. I am, without a doubt, the world’s worst dieter. Reasons for this are twofold:

Reason #1:
Though I may profess otherwise, my actions tend to speak of a mentality along the lines of “If you screw up, go all the way.” It’s a good thing I lost my virginity to my husband or you might find me on a street corner somewhere today. Case in point: Today I fudged (how’s that for a bad diet pun) and ate TWO MEALS instead of my allowed “1 sensible meal (400-600 calories) per day” ration. Because frankly, I am SO TIRED of chocolate “shakes” and think they have no business being called “meal replacements.” And my second meal was PIZZA.

So, naturally, in my state of guilt afterward, I sent my husband to CVS for Peanut Butter M&M’s. See? I’m surprised I didn’t make a DQ Blizzard run as well. I can totally feel my lovehandles coming back though.

Reason #2:
I have an unfounded phobia of hunger. I don’t know where it came from, it’s not as though I’ve ever been deprived of food. And yet, at the end of my “1 sensible meal (400-600 calories) per day” I have this mini-panic attack where I start thinking That was it. That was all the food I get for the next TWENTY FOUR HOURS!

Cue Feeding Frenzy Freak-Out, where I think I have to eat all the food within a 5 mile radius because it will be TWENTY FOUR HOURS UNTIL MY NEXT DECENT MEAL, despite the fact that:

  1. This is not a starvation diet…I get “shakes” and meal replacements and (albeit not-so-appetizing) nutrients galore
  2. 24 hours doesn’t exactly count as a life-threatening fast

I don’t know where my hunger phobia came from, but I know I’ve always had it. I think it was the sole reason I avoided anorexia in high school. I was discussing it with J the other day and he couldn’t figure it out. See, he actually had times growing up where there was literally NO FOOD, where they would eat things like “ketchup soup” for dinner because there were no other options. And he doesn’t have this problem.

I, on the other hand, who have never been deprived of food, vividly recall ordering 12″ Subway sandwiches through middle and part of high school – not because I actually wanted to eat that much but out of fear that if I only ordered a 6″ I would reach the end of the meal and still be hungry. And then it would be too late.

Now I never think about ordering more than 6″ but I had to do a lot of mental training to get to that point.

“That’s why we get along so well,” says J. “You’d be satisfied with 6″ but when it’s a few inches bigger you’re really happy.”

Old Fart

Filed under: Birthdays,Jens — Amy @ 2:36 pm

Today is Jens’ birthday.   For the next 3 months, I get to tease him about being an old, decrepit loser while I remain wrapped in the essence of youth.

Then I have a birthday and that same age becomes no longer an indication of having one foot in the grave, but a perfect representation of health and vitality.

Happy Birthday, Old Fart.

I Think My Ears Are Bleeding

Filed under: Jens,Marriage,Such is Life — Amy @ 10:48 pm

What is it about fatherhood that transforms a man from a normal human being into a compulsive, shameless, lethal pun machine?

It must be genetic, as it seems to be passed down from generation to generation – a disease that lies dormant until offspring have been sprung, then rears its ugly head to the detriment of those within earshot.

Case in point:

“I need bins. We have all this stuff just thrown in the closet. I need bins to put it in.”

“Well, you can’t get too many.”

“Why not?”

“It wouldn’t be patriotic.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Well, if we have too many bins, then that makes us bin laden.”

(blink, blink)

There’s a NON-Nerdy Kind?

Filed under: Jens,Television,Work — Amy @ 9:21 pm

“[Boss] says I’m a Vulcan.”
“Yeah.”
“What do you mean, ‘yeah’? You think I’m a Vulcan?”
“Well, if you’re choosing between Star Trek characters. ‘Everything must be logical.’ …Well you’re not a Clingon.”
“I’d rather be those ‘mind meld’ guys who can read other peoples’ thoughts.”
“Those are Vulcans.”
“No, they’re the other ones. Like that big ugly guy with the black hair and dark skin.”
“Warf? He’s a Clingon.”
“Yeah, he can do the read-the-minds thing.”
“No he can’t. That’s Vulcan thing.”
“Are you sure? How do you know?”
“Because I’ve watched like every episode of Star Trek that they made.”
(silence)
“Did you seriously just admit to that?”
(silence)
“I can’t believe it. My husband is a Trekkie.”
“Not the nerdy kind.”

Let me tell you where to PUT THAT JUNE BUG

Filed under: Don't Make Me Cut You,Jens,Such is Life — Amy @ 6:55 pm

“I’m tempted to wear a sleeveless shirt today because it’s been so HOT in our office recently. But I know as soon as I do, they’ll fix the heat and I’ll freeze to death.”

“Kind of like a june bug when it falls in the pool?”

“I’M GOING TO HURT YOU.”

Your mom’s a june bug.

Filed under: Don't Make Me Cut You,Jens — Amy @ 6:52 pm

“This mobile of Kaelin’s is the coolest baby toy ever.”

“Yeah, it’s kind of like a june bug.”

“SHUT UP.”

I got your june bug. I got your june bug RIGHT HERE.

When I was younger, in my everpresent desire to express goodwill to the animal kingdom, I would often tour the pool’s skimmer baskets to rescue frogs and other happless little creatures that found themselves entrapped.

One of my charity cases was June Bugs. By the time I found them in the skimmer, they were usually dead, but if I happened to see one fly into the pool, I would scoop it up and set it on the side. Much to my frustration, the rescued creatures would often immediately take another nose dive into the pool toward as though they had a death wish…and zero appreciation for my attempts of salvation.

Not the smartest members of creation.

In another effort to rescue a hapless creature yesterday, I put our cat on the opposite side of the pet gate as the dog, in an effort to salvage the fur he has left after an intense wrestling match. J witnessed the situation.

“He must enjoy getting mauled by the dog. I did the same thing last night and he just jumped right back over.”

“I know, it’s an endless cycle. It’s like a june bug that dives right back into the pool.”

“Yeah…he’s like a…june…bug.”

“SHUT UP.”

Arboretum Mission Successful

Filed under: Family,Jens,Me,Photos,Pregnancy — Amy @ 2:02 pm


Got my picture 🙂

You can’t really tell in the picture, but this was my first attempt at wearing the dreaded MATERNITY SHORTS in public, as my belly is slowly but surely outgrowing the waistline on my pants. Actually, they’re quite comfortable and the lack of buttons & zippers & ties cuts down on the bulk in front.

The “S” Word

Filed under: Jens,Parenting,Such is Life,Thinking — Amy @ 10:38 am

After a weekend away, J came home last night to a quiet evening of the History Channel and BLT Sandwiches. As we’re curled up on the couch, he suddenly spurts out, “It occurred to me this weekend that we’re going to have to explain sex to this kid someday.”

Yes, he tends to think ahead. Far, far ahead. This morning we were talking about the war with China after 2008. But that’s a topic for another blog.

Funny thing was, I had just had a conversation with my parents this weekend on how they and other parents had explained the birds and the bees. As far as we could remember, though my mom used delicately chosen vocabulary, there were no creative analogies or metaphors. It was pretty straight forward talk to both my brother and myself. And she noted that we each only ever asked once.

It was fun in middle and high school to compare notes with friends though on how they learned about THE TOPIC EVERY PARENT FEARS. I had one friend whose parents used keys and doorknobs. Another set of parents used plugs and electrical outlets.

And of course there’s always the “Bank of Love” where the man goes to make a deposit in the woman’s account. Next week’s lesson is what it means when the woman has the “Next Teller Please” sign up.

This blog doesn’t usually get a lot of comments, but if you’re passing through, feel free to leave a note about how you learned about where babies come from.

About Me

Hi. I'm Amy. I started this website in 2005 as a place to deposit my journal and photos. It has gone through a few incarnations and masquerades as a family site, but since I'm the only one who contributes to it, it's really all about ME, ME, ME.

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