...just to say this:
Less than 12 hours after my last post, I awoke with doom...my body was rejecting me as its host. The day was spent trying to convince my stomach that it wanted to keep its contents within me. I lost the argument, and succumbed. Here's to a bucket by the bed, dashing to the bathroom, and more than 24 hours in which I only could keep down water...and eventually ginger ale (which Carleigh lovingly went out and bought for me...because whether or not it actually helps, my brain believes it does...ginger ale is my flu placebo).
So...maybe I did have the chilly pops after all.
That's what I get for mocking it.
Friday, March 30, 2012
Monday, March 26, 2012
She might not like bones but...
I crashed on the couch when I got home...hard (sadly Carleigh was left to herself in the kitchen...sorry Car).
So, Jane picked up her doctor's kit and went to work on me. She doused me in imaginary cream, fed me a multitude of "pills", and gave me about six shots. She also tested my heart beat...out of my nose.
And then Charlee got in on the action.
With a flip chart in hand, she walked up to me and inquired as to my condition.
Charlee: Do you have a headache? A back ache? Do you have sneezels? Or chilly pops? How about chicken pox?
Me: Oh! Well, I don't think I have the chicken pox...but I might have the chilly pops.
Charlee: Oh yeah, that's bad.
So, Jane picked up her doctor's kit and went to work on me. She doused me in imaginary cream, fed me a multitude of "pills", and gave me about six shots. She also tested my heart beat...out of my nose.
And then Charlee got in on the action.
With a flip chart in hand, she walked up to me and inquired as to my condition.
Charlee: Do you have a headache? A back ache? Do you have sneezels? Or chilly pops? How about chicken pox?
Me: Oh! Well, I don't think I have the chicken pox...but I might have the chilly pops.
Charlee: Oh yeah, that's bad.
Some like it hot...
Tonight at dinner.
Carleigh: (sharing a lovely story about a couple we know who are missionaries in Africa...)
Charlee: Hey! I love Africa!
Jane: Me too!
Bo: (diving into his chocolate cake...) Not me!
Forensic anthropologist. Not in Africa. (The clues are building).
Carleigh: (sharing a lovely story about a couple we know who are missionaries in Africa...)
Charlee: Hey! I love Africa!
Jane: Me too!
Bo: (diving into his chocolate cake...) Not me!
Forensic anthropologist. Not in Africa. (The clues are building).
Friday, March 23, 2012
the hip bone's connected to the...
I was having a snuggle with Char, Bo and Jane on the couch two nights ago, as we looked through their Usborne Human Body book (which I will admit is the coolest flap-book I have ever seen...if you want to buy one, I happen to know a certain Usborne lady...)
Anyways, there is a picture of a body and the first flap opens to reveal the muscles, and then the flap under that one reveals the bones. As I opened the flaps, the kids' responses were hilarious.
Char: "Oh, that is di...stug...sting"
Me: "Dis..gus..ting?"
Char (hiding her face in her hands): "Yeah, that is di...stug...sting!"
Bo (leaning over my shoulder with a slight grin): "I think it is adorable"
So there you have it.
Char will likely not go into medicine.
Bo might end up working as a forensic anthropologist...the irony is, after hearing the name "Bodhi Jones" (a Vancouver musician), I tend to call Bo, "Bodhi Jones" from time to time (to which he says, 'that's not my name, Kaleen!'). But, shorten Bodhi Jones, and you get...Bo..nes. Coincidence? I think not.
And that, my friends, is how my brain works.
No flap book necessary.
Char: "Oh, that is di...stug...sting"
Me: "Dis..gus..ting?"
Char (hiding her face in her hands): "Yeah, that is di...stug...sting!"
Bo (leaning over my shoulder with a slight grin): "I think it is adorable"
So there you have it.
Char will likely not go into medicine.
Bo might end up working as a forensic anthropologist...the irony is, after hearing the name "Bodhi Jones" (a Vancouver musician), I tend to call Bo, "Bodhi Jones" from time to time (to which he says, 'that's not my name, Kaleen!'). But, shorten Bodhi Jones, and you get...Bo..nes. Coincidence? I think not.
And that, my friends, is how my brain works.
No flap book necessary.
Sunday, March 18, 2012
every day...
Last night, hanging out with my dear friends Kirsten and Malcolm, they asked me about my "kid stories" and noted I hadn't blogged any recently.
This is true.
Sometimes I forget the daily stories that pop up living with these three rambunctious kids...other times I just run out of time to write them...and sometimes I wonder if they're truly funny, or just funny to me. Every day I live with this family, I marvel at the amazing gift it is to live here.
Anyways, here's the latest from dinner tonight...enjoy :) (And, writing this post makes me realize I haven't taken any recent pictures. Sorry...that will need to be taken care of soon, right Corinna? :))
To set the scene for you: Jane (2 1/2 years) is exhausted. She bursts into tears at the beginning of supper, which ends up with a trip to the bathroom to get herself sorted out with her mom.
Bodhi looks at me and says: Every day, Jane cries. And every day, she wants to be a princess. And every day, she wants to drink her milkie on the couch. Every. Day.
Me: So, Bo, what do you like to do every day?
Bo: Um, well, I like to play trains...every...day. And...I like to play cars...every...day. And... (long mysterious pause, looking off to the side...and then turning back to face me)...train tracks. I like train tracks every day.
Me: Well, yes, that's true! Charlee, what about you? What do you like to do every day?
Charlee: Um.....I like to....(SCREAMS a very girly shriek at the top of her lungs)...do that. Every day.
Me: Oh, really? I didn't know that!
Charlee: Well, actually, maybe only on Saturdays.
This is true.
Sometimes I forget the daily stories that pop up living with these three rambunctious kids...other times I just run out of time to write them...and sometimes I wonder if they're truly funny, or just funny to me. Every day I live with this family, I marvel at the amazing gift it is to live here.
Anyways, here's the latest from dinner tonight...enjoy :) (And, writing this post makes me realize I haven't taken any recent pictures. Sorry...that will need to be taken care of soon, right Corinna? :))
To set the scene for you: Jane (2 1/2 years) is exhausted. She bursts into tears at the beginning of supper, which ends up with a trip to the bathroom to get herself sorted out with her mom.
Bodhi looks at me and says: Every day, Jane cries. And every day, she wants to be a princess. And every day, she wants to drink her milkie on the couch. Every. Day.
Me: So, Bo, what do you like to do every day?
Bo: Um, well, I like to play trains...every...day. And...I like to play cars...every...day. And... (long mysterious pause, looking off to the side...and then turning back to face me)...train tracks. I like train tracks every day.
Me: Well, yes, that's true! Charlee, what about you? What do you like to do every day?
Charlee: Um.....I like to....(SCREAMS a very girly shriek at the top of her lungs)...do that. Every day.
Me: Oh, really? I didn't know that!
Charlee: Well, actually, maybe only on Saturdays.
Wednesday, March 14, 2012
March Madness
Today I ran into my friend Laura who, in an incredibly timely manner, reminded me that it is best if I not make any life decisions this month. (I truly thank God for His understanding me so well, as to send her my way today).
That was the best thing I could have heard from anyone...but especially her. She is a sister who works in the same field as I do, and gets it. March Madness does not just apply to college ball; it also applies to anyone who works in Student Development in the college setting. This is the month, when, in addition to our regularly scheduled programming, we also interview lots of students who desire to be student leaders. Times these by an hour each, and my 32 hour work week suddenly is not nearly enough time.
My own personal March Madness has also involved grad studies, a wedding (not mine), credit card fraud (mine...as in done to me, not by me)...and...as of today...a spam filter that approximately 100 explicit spam email messages made its way through on my work email today.
(Dear spammers, While you apparently think I'm interested, I don't actually want breast enhancement...and no, I don't need to order large quantities of viagra...thank you very much for your explicit instructions of what these will do for me and my supposed loved one, in case I was not aware. If I could wash my brain with soap, I would do so now, and send you the bill.)
I watched a surf movie on the weekend in which the surfer chick gets pounded by the waves, over and over. She comes up for a breath, only to see the next wall of water about to push her under.
This week...I have felt like the surfer chick. (But not as cool...maybe I'm more like a girl with a dinghy.)
From experience, I know the waves will calm, and there will be some smooth sailing again. I also know I'm not alone, and I have friends who are right beside me in those same waves.
But right now, all I can see is that wall of water about to fall again...and so I take a deep breath...and make no significant life decisions until it passes.
Thanks Laura. You were a God-send today.
That was the best thing I could have heard from anyone...but especially her. She is a sister who works in the same field as I do, and gets it. March Madness does not just apply to college ball; it also applies to anyone who works in Student Development in the college setting. This is the month, when, in addition to our regularly scheduled programming, we also interview lots of students who desire to be student leaders. Times these by an hour each, and my 32 hour work week suddenly is not nearly enough time.
My own personal March Madness has also involved grad studies, a wedding (not mine), credit card fraud (mine...as in done to me, not by me)...and...as of today...a spam filter that approximately 100 explicit spam email messages made its way through on my work email today.
(Dear spammers, While you apparently think I'm interested, I don't actually want breast enhancement...and no, I don't need to order large quantities of viagra...thank you very much for your explicit instructions of what these will do for me and my supposed loved one, in case I was not aware. If I could wash my brain with soap, I would do so now, and send you the bill.)
I watched a surf movie on the weekend in which the surfer chick gets pounded by the waves, over and over. She comes up for a breath, only to see the next wall of water about to push her under.
This week...I have felt like the surfer chick. (But not as cool...maybe I'm more like a girl with a dinghy.)
From experience, I know the waves will calm, and there will be some smooth sailing again. I also know I'm not alone, and I have friends who are right beside me in those same waves.
But right now, all I can see is that wall of water about to fall again...and so I take a deep breath...and make no significant life decisions until it passes.
Thanks Laura. You were a God-send today.
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