Vacation

July 18, 2008

Yes, I know that the story of Jake and and Pooper is getting old. But I won't mince words here--nothing new is coming anytime soon. I'm on vacation. Eating onion rings. Letting my mother do my laundry.

Keep it real in the cubicles my friends.

Jake and the Pooper

July 15, 2008

On Sunday morning, Jared and I were right where we normally are--teaching the two-hour Sunbeam Sunday School class at church. We have a group of eleven three-year-olds, and I won't mince words here, it's complete chaos.

We try to teach them about Jesus, we really, really try. But usually, we miss the mark by a pretty wide margin. Our conversations usually go something like this:

US: Does Jesus love you?

THEM: No, Barney loves me.

US: Does Jesus live in heaven?

THEM: No, Jesus lives in my mailbox.

US: Who's this? (pointing to a picture of Jesus)

THEM: I need to poop.

Our doctrinal lessons might not be moving along so well, but I will admit that the Sunbeams' behavior has improved by leaps and bounds.

For example, this past Sunday, little Jake had to use the potty. Jared took him by the hand and led him to the bathroom. When they arrived, Jake immediately attempted to open the door to an occupied stall. Jared explained that someone was using that toilet and asked Jake if he knew how to use a urinal. Jake indicated that he did indeed know how to pee standing up by kicking off his shoes, socks, khakis, underoos, and doing his business.

When Jake finished up, Jared was busy washing his hands in the sink. He looked over toward the little Sunbeam and said something like, "Put your pants back on, buddy and let's wash your hands." But instead of heeding Jared's request, Jake charted a course of his own.

He made a bee-line for the occupied stall and crawled under the locked door because, duh, that man--you know, the one who was pooping in the stall?--Jake assumed that he might like to have some company to make the time flow by.

Jared heard a man's voice say something like, "Heeeeyyyyy! Whoaaaa! Whatcha doin' buddy?" And heard Jake exclaim, "Just sayin' hello!!!" And when he looked over, Jake's entire body, with the exception of his feet, we're sharing the inside of the pooping stall with this poor, innocent church-goer.

Before he had a chance to process the situation, Jared grabbed Jake by the ankles and pulled him across the tile floor on his belly and out of that unsuspecting man's personal bubble.

A moment or two later, the pooper, who happened to be an older gentleman, emerged from the stall, said hi to Jared and asked, "So is that your boy?" And Jared was all, "NO!"

See what I mean? That type of behavior is a huge improvement compared to previous weeks. I think we're definitely gaining control of this group.

A Round of Hot Dogs! For Everyone! On Me!

July 11, 2008

Wow, looks like there are some fantastic fantasy job ideas floating around out there.

Now get your head out of the clouds and start those quarterly reports, people! Just kidding, just kidding. I think we should all quit our day jobs and follow our hearts. That would be great--we'd have a world full of party planners, gift basket makers, and cardiac surgeons. And really now, what else would we need?

Since we're on the topic of work and jobs, I'd like to point out how wonderful life has been since Jared opened his office last week. It's true--he's only seen five patients so far, and yes--we're no where close to covering the operating expenses, but damn guys, life is good.

My husband gets up in the morning, takes a shower, eats breakfast, and heads out the door swinging his bagged lunch.

He's all like, "Bye Amy! See you tonight!"

And I'm all, "Have a great day, Jared!"

I know that might not sound exotic or exciting to you, but holy crappers, it bowls me over each and every morning.

You see, we've been married for six years, and during those six years we've never actually functioned as a "normal" family. When we tied the knot back in '02, I was 21 years old and one semester shy of finishing my bachelor's degree. Jared was 23 and only one year into his. He waited tables to pay the bills, and I had a job that paid $8 an hour and left me trekking all over the state of Maine.

We decided to work in a vacation spot one summer, since Jared could make $12 an hour as a restaurant manager and I could pull in $13 as a pirate impersonator. In the course of those three months our combined income came to $10,000 and hoo-boy, we thought we had a thing or two in common with The Donald.

After a few more years of earning silly-small amounts of money in Maine, we sold our house (our $40,000 house), we packed a 6x12 trailer, hooked it to the Blazer, and took off for Dallas, Texas. I was sort of excited, sort of freaking out, and sort of pregnant with James. Six weeks to be exact.

During our time in Texas, we cooperatively earned a master's degree and a doctorate. All the while, my husband worked on and off as a--and I mean this--dog food stacker at a locally owned pet shop. I would have to say that I had the more prestigious job at the time--you know, a babysitter. But for all of the grunt work we did, I'm proud to say that James never stepped a teeny-tiny baby foot into a daycare, Jared made it through school with no major delays, and I somehow managed to keep the impossible ship afloat.

I was sorting through a pile of mail last week, and came across one of those social security statements that we all occasionally receive. This one was addressed to Jared, and it outlined his total salary for each of the last five years. When I read the figures I couldn't help but laugh out loud, but the laughter quickly transitioned into grateful sobs--because somehow, somehow, this family has survived with a hard-working and devoted man who has never earned anywhere close to $20,000 in a year.

How? I honestly don't know. But we've never had an overdue bill.

People have asked us that question over, and over, and over again. Yes we drive an old car. Yes we sold that $40,000 house for a pretty hefty profit. No, our parents have never bankrolled us. And yes, we have some serious student loan debt to show for all of this. But really, when it comes down to the details, they're still an unsolved mystery.

So, yes. It's an amazingly huge deal every single morning when my husband says, "Hey Amy, I'm leaving for the office. Did you make me a lunch?"

And I say, "It's sitting right in front of you on the counter, Jared."

And he says, "Thanks hon. I'll see you at dinnertime."

And I say, "Okay. Good luck today!"

It's a really, really, really big deal.

And then, when he starts earning a paycheck, it will be such a big deal that you're all invited to my house for a party with hot dogs and a slip n' slide.

Mark your calendars, it'll be soon.

Dream Job

July 10, 2008

Do you ever find yourself slumped in your chair at work, admiring the troll collection that you've lined up along to top of your cubicle, and thinking, "Man...this is, like, totally lame."

Me neither. I don't have a troll collection.

But every once in a while I do stare at the weird girl who sits across the hall and think, "Damn...she needs some updated glasses frames." And then I inevitably find my thoughts drifting toward my wild n' crazy dream jobs.

So here's my question of the day:

WHAT'S YOUR WILD N' CRAZY DREAM JOB?

Unless you happen to be Brad Pitt's personal bathroom assistant, I really don't want to see responses like I LOVE WHAT I DO or I'M ALREADY FULFILLED. Also, I'd rather not hear about your dreams of accounting, supervising, or lawn mowing. Let's stretch our imaginations here, friends. Let's get a little bit nuts.

I'll go first...

I would like to be a New York Times food critic. I think it would be fun to be a writer for the Ellen show. I've always wanted to be a nun who runs a third-world orphanage. I think I'd make a great inner-city, Spanish-speaking medical doctor. And finally, I'd like to be a stand-up comedian.

There. Now I'm totally embarrassed.

So quick! Before I erase this post, talk to me about your dreams of plus-size modeling...or race car driving...or scuba diving.

Prayers, Prayers, and More Prayers

July 9, 2008

If you're the praying type, please take a minute and send one up for my blog friends Megan and Marc. After trying to conceive for five years and navigating the long and complex road of adoption, they've found themselves pregnant with twin girls. SURPRISE!

The twins, Elliana and Emmaline, have recently been diagnosed with a serious condition called Twin to Twin Transfusion Syndrome and need to undergo surgery before they're even born. The laser surgery is scheduled for tomorrow afternoon.

Please pray that the surgery will thoroughly correct the problem, and that Megan and Marc will be cuddling their two, healthy, miracle babies in a few short months.

Thanks!