Funny B

The whole family has been knocking around the living room most of the day. What else can we do? Jeff is strapped into this contraption for four hours at a time that exercises his knee. Anywho, we are intently watching the marathon of VH1’s I Love the Millenium. There is a segment about Michael Jackson’s aquittal back in 2003 and B busts up laughing when the screen is filled with MJ’s freaky face.

I suppose that isn’t as funny (hysterical, really) as we thought it was, but cabin fever is setting in. We will be in a scary place come Tuesday.

Home

Jeff’s surgery went well and we are home. There are so many things to be said about the crappy nurses at Banner Desert, but I have not slept more much in the last couple days and it would come out like this:

lhddhakjsdhastupidslkjhskjdhaksjdijkdhadkjadbitches.

Celebrating

I weighed in today (for Weight Watchers, not my heavy weight title match against Tyson) and I LOST FOUR POUNDS! Phyllis, my friendly neighborhood WW cashier/scale Nazi, was extremely excited for me. I am quite relieved after the last hellish weigh-in. I was sure if I gained this week I would stop at the corner store for frosted sugar cookie, large Coke, and a hot dog with lots of mustard, ketchup, and onions (mmmm, mayo, too, if I’m lucky).

Anywho, B and I are leaving WWs and celebrating by high-fiving and dancing to my lively rendition of Wannabe. Yes, the one by the Spice Girls, why are you judging me? We were silently accosted by a crotchety old couple. Why the bitterness? Is it a crime to teach my son the classics? Killjoys.

Driving home, it was like a miracle from the fat (and possibly gay) gods: my iPod came to the exact song we were celebrating to. B insisted we listen to it a second time for good measure, you see he is choreographing an interpretive dance and wanted to make sure the second verse flowed well.

I must keep up my refound healthy ways. Now, off to pilates…

I see dead people

Tomorrow Jeff is finally getting his ACL replaced. I swear, his body is that of a 73 year old: countless broken bones, sprains, surgeries, concussions, etc. Anyway, it’s the same surgery Tiger Woods just had. Jeff is getting cadaver parts to replace his ACL, which has elicited the most bizarre reactions from a few people. My reaction is this: where do I send the thank you note? Growing up we couldn’t play with our birthday or Christmas presents or spend the cash until we wrote thank-you notes. I am a real tight-ass about thank you notes, in fact I am all over Jeff since he has not yet sent thank you notes for Father’s Day (note to the moms, I will send him to the hospital with blank cards so it will keep him busy).

Anyway, here is what my letter would say:

Dear Kind and Giving Dead Dude Deceased Sir,
Thank you so much for part of your knee. My husband will enjoy it tremendously while he plays hide-and-seek, soccer, baseball, and potato sack races with our son. I,
too, appreciate it so Jeff can accompany me on long trips to the mall and run all the extra errands he has been slacking off on in the past few months. I want to assure you that we will not abuse this gift of an ACL like Mickey Mantle on St. Patrick’s Day. We will treasure, respect, shine and buff the precious ligament.
Yours truly,
KD

Sick Days

Remember sick days? Laying on the couch in your PJs with a Kleenex stuck up your nose or the designated barf bowl within arms reach. Every fifteen to thirty minutes the kind soul who stayed home with you would check your temperature, bring you a Sprite, administer meds, etc. I don’t know about you, but I think there is something medicinal about daytime TV: Price is Right, Family Feud, Montell Williams, and Maury.

It turns out that sicks days for parents is not that much different. On top of his lingering cold, Bradley has a stomach bug. How do I still adore my child after I watched him puke while simultaneously forcing out a snot bubble? Damn, I love him! Anyway, I sat in my PJs all day, watched daytime TV, administered Pedialyte every now and then, while launching for the barf bowl at the first sign of heavage. It’s like a really gross circle of life.

Funny side story: One time, when I was little, I had the flu and my dad stayed home with me. I couldn’t eat much, but for lunch I got hard-boiled eggs and Sprite. That is just a gross combo if you don’t have the stomach flu. When my mom got home I told her between heaves over the barf bowl and traumatized tears what Chef Dad had served. Man, was he in trouble! He never got to stay home with me again. I think he did it on purpose. Like when you accidentally drop a plate while doing the dishes.

Fun with remodeling

My bathroom is done! Jeff said it was finished last week, but I said it wasn’t until the hardware was on the doors and drawers. That might seem picky of me, but Jeff said the kitchen was done and we were missing baseboard for months.

Here is a list of things Jeff (with a lot of help from Di and a bit from me) has redone in our home. This will stroke his ego and fulfill my love for making lists.


-Flooring. Tile downstairs and bathroom (lots of Di, Jeff, and I)
-Landscaping the backyard (lots of Di & Jeff)
-Shelving in B’s closet
-Redmod the master closet (one of my faves)
-All new kitchen cabinets and island
-Dedicated laundry room
-Garage cabinets (ghetto, yes, but functional)
-New baseboards downstairs and some upstairs
-Update the master bathroom (finally)

I am sure there are more, of which I will be pointedly reminded of, but…

The Master Bath












The Kitchen












Bradley's room

Fat people are dumb

I hauled my fat ass back to the gym today. I did one of those fitness classes that has a little bit of everything in it. We get to the kickboxing part and I am happy because I have done lots of kickboxing classes before. Anyway, I am following along with the instructor and she stops the entire class and comes over to show me how to properly position my arms for speed bag. I was really confused why she came to help me, I mean, I had it right. Especially because the Barbie behind me looked like she was doing some type of cheer from her high school glory days–flailing her arms and all.

We continue on, and we are doing these modified jumping jacks from hell. Let me get something straight: I fucking hate jumping jacks. First of all, I have boobs, big ones that are prone to get pissy if I cough too hard, so imagine how they feel with this jolt of activity. Second, jumping ranks first in shit I don’t like to do, followed closely by running. Anyway, Healthy Helen comes back and “whispers” to me (she was wearing a mic, so it wasn’t a secret between the two of us), “Honey, your face is really red, are you okay?” Do you understand the restraint I showed here? FYI, she is still alive. I told her, “Well, I’m really hot and she (Barbie) has all the fans here pointed to her.” You see, when Barbie cheerleader came in to the room she turned the three fans in the back towards her. What a bitch with a capital C, right?

After I had (the smallest) fan turned to me, we moved on. Every time our fearless leader showed an accommodation she would stand right next to or in front of me. People, there were two women in there three times my age who pretty much just marched the entire time. But, since I was the fattest in the class by a good twenty pounds, I was voted most likely to need an accommodation. At that point I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry, I still don’t.

Anyway, I made it through the damn class without a) having a heart attack and b) murdering anyone. I am going back to that class again on Thursday, just so I can show that stupid instructor that the fat hasn’t gone to my brain. I am also going to get there five minutes early and turn every fan on me!

Holy Matrimony

After 55 years, Del and Phyllis were married today. This couple has been together twice as long as I have been alive. They would have been married sooner, but Del and Phyllis are both women. Apparently there is something wrong with that. Then again, people used to think it was wrong for a Black man and White woman to marry.

“I think today, marriage as an institution has been strengthened,” said San Francisco mayor, Gavin Newsom while presiding over Del and Phyllis’s wedding.

Amen. I think my husband and I could definitely learn something about love, commitment, and respect from ANY couple that has been together for 55 years.

Not for the faint of heart

B has a cold. It’s not even ten AM and my kid has already been to the doctor, smeared green snot all over a wall, barfed up his food (half thru his nose), rubbed his barf into his hair, slapped me with a barfy hand, peed in his bath (then me), and wriggled out of two diapers. I think I am fine with an only child. I don’t want to do this again. I suppose it isn’t as bad as the morning that in the space of ten minutes he spit up, peed, and pooped on me and everything that was within five feet of him.

One of my favorite dads

Jeff is such a good dad, it is almost disgusting. He has such a calm and easy way about him (you wonder why we work so well…). I will never forget his face when I told him I was pregnant, in the ER when the tech said our booger was okay, when we were told we were having a boy, or as he supervised the nurses clean up B after he was born. Our little family works so well because he is so willing, sweet, and supportive.

Besides dog, B’s favorite word is dada. The doctor said this is because it is the easiest word to say, but I think it is because B always gets a different reaction from Jeff when he says it, from a funny face to a ride on his shoulders. Parenthood is a road littered with guilt, but we share the load fairly. Jeff will encourage me to take time for a bath or mindless Internet fun while he entertains, feeds, or bathes the baby. This downtime is so precious, but not nearly as my husband.

Society puts the majority of parenting on the mother’s shoulders whatever anyone wants to say. In our house things are a little bit more squarely on my shoulders, but it is without resentment or frustration. I don’t know how I would raise B without Jeff, or even the type of mom I would be. Most importantly I don’t think I would have the same son if he weren’t as involved and wonderful. Jeff is truly an incredible dad.

B's tricks

1. Getting a new perspective on things.


2. Tarting it up for the camera.


3. Decorating and organizing. I think he is realphabetizing here.


4. Wrestling pillows. Because they are all out to get him.

How does Santa do it?

Father’s Day is looming.

I always have such a horrible time buying presents for people in our family, especially the boys. We were told that my dad wanted a belt, a gift-card, and a t-shirt. That’s it. Seriously. I know you might be thinking, “Geez, Keiko, at least he told you what he wanted. It doesn’t seem that hard.” However, my dad’s birthday is two days after Father’s Day. What that means is my mom, brother, and I get to fight over those three items for TWO gift giving days. My dad would be mortified if he knew I was blogging about his gifts (a. he is old, b. he is Asian), and he would just tell me he doesn’t need anything–I hate that. I know why people say, “Don’t get me anything,” because it seems frivolous and/or unnecessary, but I WANT to get him something. Even though he forgets my exact birth date and tells anyone who listens what a bitchy teenager I was, he deserves to be honored on Father’s Day and his birthday. He is such a kick-ass dad and has done so much for us, plus he is a fantastic grandpa to B.

I called dibs on the belt while my mom and brother figure out who is getting the other desired items. This means I am left to brainstorm and decide on his birthday gift. I have some ideas, but nothing seems cool enough for my dad. I mean what do I get for the man who taught me about government, how to manage money, be open to all perspectives and arguments, all while scaring the crap out of me?

First thing first

I have been rightly/unfairly accused of not keeping people up to date with what is happening with our little fam. Apparently we’ve all become voyeurs thanks to technology and I didn’t catch on to this. Either that or our lives are much more interesting than I thought.
So, welcome to our family blog. I (Keiko) will update as much as possible. Bear with me as a figure this place out and decide what is appropriate for daytime viewing, etc.

As of right now, the word is “health”. B had tubes put in his ears this morning. Basically, little coffee straws were put in to open up his ear canal. Since October he has had a dozen ear infections and been on countless antibiotics. We tried everything from changing his diet to a chiropractor, but nothing worked. He was on such massive doses of antibiotics that he was becoming resistant to meds prescribed. Anyway, the surgery was pretty simple and took less than a half hour from beginning to end. He is back to normal already.

In a couple weeks Jeff will have surgery to replace his ACL. This means crutches, physical therapy, and so forth. A lot less fun than tubes. He was originally supposed to have it on Friday the 13th, which is his lucky day since he was born on Friday the 13th, but it got pushed back a couple weeks.

Anywho, my health is just fine, though I do have the massive headache in the form of a summer class I am taking. I’m working on my second Masters degree, but this course has nothing to do with it. Basically every teacher has to take a class about teaching ELLs (English language learners) by 2009. It is a waste of time and money for me, but not for the schmoe who convinced the AZ dept of ed that the three other classes I took on ELL shouldn’t count. Whatev
Okay, so how am I doing? Do you feel more informed? Honestly, I kind of feel like this isn’t very interesting, but at least you are in the loop now.