Friday, April 24, 2009
Tuesday, April 14, 2009
Let me preface this with: this has happened before. Nate has been stuck before. Not quite like this, and not with this much drama, but the kid loves to try to stick his hands, elbows and legs in places. This time, he really couldn’t get out.
The boys have these cool animal chairs we got from some good friends. One is a tiger and one is a zebra. The zebra has a small space between the mane and the ears. Nate’s arm was wedged there.
He was quite panicked, and if I breathed on him wrong he said, “ouch!” Step one, try to gently maneuver it out. No dice. Only screaming as if I had put his fingers in molten lava. I was gentle and careful. This is the same kid that broke his arm, so I wasn’t underestimating what he could have done.
Think. Oil! I ran downstairs grabbed some olive oil (and the camera), and back upstairs to see what I could do. Didn’t do anything except aggravate the child who also doesn’t like to be dirty.
I now explain to Nate that we either have to make his arm hurt a little or cut up the chair. The chair versus the limb was not a hard decision. He was now ready to destroy the chair. I hopped downstairs to the garage, grabbed my handsaw and back upstairs.
Every stroke of the handsaw brought, “Ouch, ouch ouch!” After about 5 times of that, I’d had enough. It was time to get the business done. Time for powertools.
Here is the thing I’ve learned about young boys this afternoon. If the situation is scary, don’t add sharp things and volume. I brought in my portable skil saw, talked clearly that it would be loud, put them in the appropriate safety gear, and fired her up. The moment the saw hit the wood and made that screaming sound that saws against wood make, my boys simultaneously reduplicated it. It wasn’t pretty. I consoled for about 10 minutes.
So it was back to the handsaw. Since I couldn’t get close enough to his arm without cutting him, I decided I’d try to cut a V in the wood and then try to break off the piece that was pinching him. Let’s just say that this was an arduous process. Every movement was a cry of agony. Unnecessarily so. I got the V cut out, but this chair was strong.
I then decided I could use the drill to drill some holes and weaken it. Nate was excited about the drill. He so bad wanted out. It had been about an hour since I had first gone upstairs.
Three precisely drilled holes later, and he was free! And the poor zebra had a haircut and was destined for scrap.
Monday, April 13, 2009
Dear Continental Airlines,
I am disgusted as I write this note to you about the miserable experience I am having sitting in seat 29E on one of your aircrafts.
As you may know, this seat is situated directly across from the lavatory, so close that I can reach out my left arm and touch the door.
All my senses are being tortured simultaneously. It's difficult to say what the worst part about sitting in 29E really is?
Is it the stench of the sanitation fluid that is blown all over my body every 60 seconds when the door opens? Is it the wooosh of the constant flushing? OR is it the passengers asses that seem to fit into my personal space like a pornographic jig-saw puzzle?
I constructed a stink-shield by shoving one end of a blanket into the overhead compartment-while effective in blocking at least some of the smell and offering a small bit of privacy, the ass-on my body factor has increased, as without my evil glare passengers feel free to lean up against what they think is some kind of blanketed wall. The next ass that touches my shoulder will be the last!
I am picturing a board room full of executives giving props to the young promising engineer that figured out how to squeeze an additional row of seats onto this plane by putting them next to the Lav. I would like to flush his head in the toilet that I am close enough to touch and taste, from my seat.
Putting a seat here was a very bad idea. I just heard a man Groan in there! This sucks!
DEPICTION OF A MANS BUTT IN MY FACE
Worse yet, is I've paid over $400.00 for the honor of sitting in this seat! Does your company give refunds? I'd like to go back where I came from and start over.
Seat 29E could only be worse if it was located inside the bathroom. I wonder if my clothing will retain the sanitizing odor...what about my hair! I feel like I'm bathing in a toilet bowl of blue liquid, and there is no man in a little boat to save me. I am filled with a deep hatred for your plane designer. and a general dis-ease that may last for hours.
We are finally descending and soon I will be able to tear down the stink-shield, but the scars will remain. I suggest that you initiate immediate removal of this seat from all of your crafts. Just remove it, and leave the smoldering brown hole empty a place for sturdy/non-absorbing luggage maybe, but not human cargo.
Saturday, February 14, 2009
Me: Noah, are you sleepy?
Me: YES!!! Are you going to take a nap today?
Me: YES!! Nate, are you sleepy? Are you going to take a nap?
Nate: No, I’m not sleepy.
Me: Can I sleep on your bed then?
Me: Then you can stay up and do my homework?
Me: Okay, I need a documentary hypothesis analysis (JDEP) of Genesis 27.
Nate: I’m sooooo sleepy.
Friday, February 06, 2009
Tuesday, January 06, 2009
I have my favorite Christmas decorations. There are 4 in fact. And they don't have any particular order.
This ceramic tree was given to me for my first Christmas. It has little plastic pieces that are lit by a bulb inside. It has gone through a rise and fall of appreciation. In college, I thought it was hideous. Now it's vintage. I am the only one allowed to put it up. Beth has received a scolding from me in the past. This year my boys got to help me. It was a sweet moment.
This egg was purchased in Costa Rica. The interior is all hand made and painted. In the daylight, it's alright, but when lit up it's amazing. Beth and I saw this on a trip in CR and went to purchase it on our way home and it was gone. We were heart broken. Then the next time we went, we found it!
I said there was no order, but my new favorite is our nativity set. I bought this on my trip to Israel, specifically in Bethlehem. It's hand carved olive wood. The detail is awesome. Israel security had lots of fun poking through it at the airport, since I bought it in a Palestinian territory. Although I take issue with nativity sets since most of them are inaccurate, the simplicity and natural feel of this makes me pause and take a deep breath when I see it. (Unless my boys are too close and then I freak.) It is now a valued treasure that I hope to hand down to them one day.
Do you have any favorite decorations? If so, post them in the comments section.
Friday, December 12, 2008
So, my version goes "Oh How I love Noah" or Nate. The other day in the kitchen, this is how it went.
I start singing "Oh, How I Love Noah"
I change to the real lyrics, "Oh, How I Love Jesus"
Nate says, "That's silly daddy."
"Why's that silly, buddy?"
"That's just silly."
"Well, I do love Jesus."
Nate looks at me for a minute.
"I love God."
I'm not sure if I should be really happy, or if he thinks he one-upped me on this. How do you teach an almost three year old a proper Christology?