Monthly Archives: March 2009

NeilMed Nasal Saline Flush…

NeilMed Nasal Saline Flush…

I know, the title of this post grossed you out completely drew you in, didn’t it?

Joey and I took Laura’s advice.  On the way home, we stopped at CVS and purchased our very own NeilMed Nasal Saline Flusher Thing.  I carefully read the directions and filled the squirt bottle up.

Then my heart began to race.

PANIC began to set in.

I think I must have turned white, because Joey said, “Here, I’ll go first.”

He put the nose flusher up to his nostril, squeezed, and water poured from the other side of his nose.

I screamed.  “AAAAAAAAAUGH!  I…I can’t do that.”

“You can, and you will,” Joey said, confidently.  But just in case, he got my cell phone all ready so he could video the process and send it to family and friends.  (He loves me SO MUCH, doesn’t he?)

Here’s the problem with me.

I’m scared of water.

I can’t hold my breath under water very well, and if I am under water, I have to exhale from my nose.  I’ve never touched the bottom of the pool in the deep end (always failed that in swimming lessons) because having that much water between me and oxygen makes me panic, and I scream under water and flail for the surface.

While probably more information about me and my water phobia than you really cared to know, it kind of helps you understand what you are about to see, which was recorded last evening on my cell phone.  The quality stinks, but I think you can get the idea.

Disclaimer: There is lots of screaming/melting down here.  Just FYI.

After several tries, and a lot of that saline stuff going into my lungs due to screaming/flailing…I finally succeeded at flushing my nose.  It felt…weird.  Almost awesome.  I was extremely dizzy, but Joey claims that’s because I had myself so worked up about my fear of drowning.

OK, recalling this is making my heart rate increase exponentially.  I need to stop before I start screaming again.

Perhaps I need psychiatric evaluation.

The One Where I Wear Tons of Eyeliner

The One Where I Wear Tons of Eyeliner

About six months ago, Joey started work on a video project for Dallas Seminary.  He was highlighting a guy named Tim Kimberly, who set up the website www.helives.com as a way to reach out to teenagers.

It worked, and Tim’s got a pretty rip-roaring ministry gig going on.

So, since Tim graduated from DTS, they were all, “We want to do a promo video on you.”

And I assume he was all, “OK, sure.”

Joey filmed Tim’s interview all those months ago, and then pondered what to do with it.  He didn’t have any “b-roll” of Tim kickin’ it with teenagers, or surfing around on his website, so what Joey wanted was a teenager to film.

Since I look pretty much like a teenager anyway, we slapped some teenager clothes from Target on me, layered me up in eyeliner (can I just tell you how long it took to get off?  It looks awful, too), painted my nails black and chipped them down, and did the poofy bang thang.

Teenager transformation complete.

Here’s Joey’s fance-pantsy video, complete with my eyeliner and I.

Vege….WHAT?!

Vege….WHAT?!

So, do you ever feel like doing something crazy, just to see if you could do it?

I’m thinking about trying to go vegetarian for a week.  Just for fun.  So…I haven’t done a poll in awhile, so I thought I’d do one about this.

Make your mark.  VOTE.  Do it.  (If you don’t, I’ll figure out who you are and come after you.)

Sick?

Sick?

OK, so for the last THREE WEEKS I have felt like I’m getting sick.  You know, sore throat, itchy ears, creepy feeling nasal passages (sorry, I hate the words “nasal passages”, but I can’t think of what else to call them) and the overwhelming urge to sneeze, but not actually being able to sneeze.

Last night, as Joey and I were watching the special features on his Fellowship of the Ring DVD (true story, that’s what we were doing) my throat started to hurt really badly.  But I never cough, and the throat aching never goes behind a minor “ow, that hurts”.  It’s not like it’s on fire or anything, like when I legitimately get sick.

However.

Feeling like I’m  on the verge of getting something for three weeks is super taxing. I’d stay home sick, but I’m not legitimately sick yet.Maybe I’ll skip my vitamins for a few days and actually go down for the count.

Then again…maybe not.

I’m going to go get some ibuprofen or something.  I’ve got a headache the size of the state I live in.  (And now you’re all going to start offering me cheese to go with my whine…)

Blah

Blah

I had a weird night, interrupted sleep, and a bad morning.  Ayup, it’s one of those Mondays that occurs on a Friday.

Joey’s been working on this huge Hebrews paper, and he just finished it last night, probably around 11:30 or so.  (I don’t know what time, exactly, because I fell asleep at 10:00.)  I remember waking up around midnight, though, and feeling wide awake.  Don’t you just hate that, when you wake up in the middle of the night and feel like you’re ready to get up…even though you know you’re not?

Happened to me twice last night.

But enough whining.  It’s not getting me anywhere…never does, really.

When I pulled back the shower curtain to turn on the water this morning, the tub was full (and I mean FULL) of tiny little muddy paw prints.  Obviously Henry got into some mud last night when Joey took him out before coming to bed, and decided to have a bathtub licking party after we fell asleep.

Joey said there were muddy paw prints all over the bathroom floor, too.

bathtub-001Our dog is so not normal.  He loves licking the bathtub with all his heart.  Probably more than he loves me, actually.

Anyway.  I’m going to go back to my stinky Friday…and hopefully it perks up here soon.  Mostly what needs to happen is that I need to change my attitude.  (But I think I left my other attitude at home.)

Branson: Freed vs. Henry

Branson: Freed vs. Henry

Henry is a total Mama’s Boy.  He’s scared of all other dogs (except Shih-Tzus and Joey’s parents’ two dogs), cats, squirrels, rabbits and, we discovered in Branson, parakeets.

Sister brought her bird Friedrich (which we call Freed) to Branson, and from his very first chirp, Henry knew that Freed was something that was Very Scary Indeed.

Every time Freed was out of his cage, Henry either tensed up, required that he was held by a human, or ran out of the room.

My favorite was the afternoon that Mom and I were in the condo by ourselves, and Freed was sitting on the end table in the living room like always.  Henry decided he missed Mom, so he began to gallop across the living room, but when Freed chirped, Henry stopped dead in his tracks, slid a little bit on the wood floor, turned on a dime and booked it back to our room, where he stayed for a very long time.

Parakeets, you see, must be very terrifying indeed.

One of the afternoons, though, I decided to have a little bit of fun.  Freed hates me, every time I try to get that monster out of his cage, he tries to peck my finger off.  So I lured Sister into getting him out for me, then I slunk away into my room where Henry was sunning himself on the bed.

I set Freed on the comforter, and waited.

Joey, who realized what I was up to, had run in behind me with the camera, and it’s a good thing he did, too.  I never realized what a pansy my child is.

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Round 1 Score

Freed: 1

Henry: 0

Please note the size difference between Freed and Henry.  And Freed really, really wants to hang out with Henry, too…because Henry is covered in fur and Freed loves to fill his beak with hair/fur and nibble on it.  (That bird’s mental too.)

Freed was not to be dissuaded.  He skittered across the bed and planted his face in Henry’s tail, where he happily began chewing on it.

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Round 2 Score

Freed: 1

Henry: 0

Henry almost jumped off the bed, so I had to hold him in place while Freed chewed.  Henry looks like he despises Freed more than anything in the whole world, and I think that may be accurate.

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Freed took a break from his chewing, and Henry decided to scratch his head.  I can’t believe Freed doesn’t have more fear of a large, toothy dog…but he doesn’t.

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I decided we were having fun, yes, but more fun could be had.  So I held Henry close, picked up Freed (who didn’t peck me, amazingly) and set Freed on Henry’s back.

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Freed was in bird-heaven with all that fur.  And Henry hadn’t yet realized what was going on.

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It didn’t take him very long, though…

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Round 3 Score

Freed: 1

Henry: 0

Because once he figured it out, he wriggled out of my arms and ran out into the living room, where he sat next to Pops on the couch.

The final score?

Freed: 3

Henry: 0

Branson: Skipping Rocks on Table Rock Lake

Branson: Skipping Rocks on Table Rock Lake

You’ll have to forgive me for being so pokey about posting pics of Branson.  My lappy’s battery died so I had to charge it, then I ran out of time…and so on and so forth.

Anyway, right after we visited the Snatchery we drove across Table Rock Dam to tour the visitor’s center and watch the informational video on the making of the dam.  Unfortunately, the stupid visitor’s center was closed and wasn’t going to reopen until April 1.

There were trails that wound around the lake’s edge, though, so we thought we’d do that instead.

We found a pleasant patch of sandstone rock and everyone sat down.  On vacation, there’s nothing better than sitting next to a large body of water, be it Northern Minnesota or Southern Missouri.

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Sister handed me a perfect piece of chalk-rock, and I began scribbling “I Love Joey” on the rock next to me.

But it’s nearly impossible to sit next to a lake, creek, pond or stream without throwing something in.  (At least it is for me.)  And sandstone makes for perfect skipping rocks, so before long, Stephen was impressing us all with his mad skills at rock skipping.

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First he’d find The Perfect Rock.

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Then he’d wind up…

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And let ‘er rip!

Sometimes he’d get six or seven skips before the rock just glided across the water’s surface…and then sunk.  It was pretty impressive.  We all sat there for who knows how long, just watching Stephen skip rocks.

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The Branson Belle, one of those tourist-trap showboats, went paddling past us on its pre-season practice run, and we all yelled, “Stephen! Try to hit the boat with one of your rocks!”

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Stephen was game.  He found the right rock and got ready.  He aimed.

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Then he fired.

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While not hitting the Branson Belle, he did get pretty far out into the lake.  We all gave him lofty congratulations and Joey even put down his camera for awhile to skip rocks as well.

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Oh, but not before he took a bunch more pictures of me.  I finally got sick of it and began shooting him with my imaginary guns.  THEN he put the camera down and skipped rocks.

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Sister, not to be left out of the fun, also tried her hand.  I think she got three or four skips, which is way better than me.  I tried once and got a whopping two skips.  So then I gave up and moved on to bigger, more important things.

Like taking off my shoes and putting my feet in the FRIGID water.  (It seemed like a good idea before I actually did it.)

Fortunately there are no pictures of this because at this point, Joey was still skipping rocks.

Stephen wearied of skipping rocks after awhile, and he decided to go for the big kahuna.

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He found the largest rock he could pick up…and launched.

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Everyone loves a good splash.

Once my feet dried off from getting in the nearly freezing lake, I decided that it was time to teach Pops to text.

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I sort of think I may have caused poor Pops undue stress in the instruction of speed-texting (you know, the Word function).  I don’t think he’ll ever use it again.

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Sister and Mom enjoyed the outdoors, as always, and once we were finished with our rock skipping, launching, and texting instructions, we all walked a bit further down the lakeshore.

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The view was beautiful, the air was crisp, and there was no reason at all to not enjoy the lovely day.

On the way back to our resort, we drove on a road that was having some construction done on it.  There were those little yellow dividers sticking up from the blacktop and, as we drove past them, I said, “I’ve always wanted to touch one of those.”

(I have a lot of things like that.)

Suddenly, Dad pulled the van over.

“What are you doing?” I asked.

“Stopping so you can touch one of those road dividers!” Dad said.

“WOAH, cool!” I yelled, and dove out of the van.  I ran helter-skelter across/in the road to the nearest yellow road diver, careful to look both ways before I ran out into traffic.

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(If I had known Joey had also gotten out of the car TO TAKE PICTURES OF ME, I may have reconsidered.)

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Once I reached the road divider, I crouched down and touched it.  To my great surprise, it was made out of rubber, not metal like I had always thought, and it squished down with great ease.

“Look at me,” Joey said.  He was in the middle of the road a little bit away from me, and he began snapping pictures like the paparazzi he is.

Then I noticed a big van bearing down the hill, pretty much about ready to run over Joey.

“GET OUT OF THE WAY,” I yelled, and we both ran back to the car.

“Thanks, Dad,” I panted.  “And now I don’t have to worry about those things.  They’re made out of rubber, so they won’t pop my tires.”

“I’ve always worried about that too,” said Sister.

And while unrelated to this post, I’m including a picture Joey took of our condo building.  He took it in the dark with some fancy thing on his camera…a 30 second exposure or something?

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Anyway, I like the picture.

The Secret Patch

The Secret Patch

Last night I was exhausted.  Joey and Matt were talking about seminary and life and lofty things like that, and Molly was reading on the couch.  So, just in case I fell asleep while reading,  I flopped down on the bed about 10:00 and read until I finally couldn’t stay awake anymore.  By this time it was nearly 10:45, so I tiptoed over to the bedroom door, cracked it just enough and shouted, “JOEY, are you coming?”

(But then, I “shout” like my mom, so my version of shouting is more like loud talking.)

Sure enough, about ten minutes later, he arrived.  I was mostly asleep by then, so he messed with my hair for a few moments.  Then, “WOAH!”

“Whaaaaaat,” I mumbled.

“You have a whole bunch of gray hairs right here,” he indicated The Secret Patch of gray that I hide.

“I know, that’s been there for awhile.  I always pull them out, but I’m too tired right now,” I said.

“I can pull them out,” he offered.

“Um, no.  I think I’ll get them later,” I said.  “But thank you.”  (You wonder why I didn’t take him up on it?)

“You have tons,” Joey said, reassuringly.  “They’re shorty and squiggly and kind of PREEEEEIIIIIING!

The last word was a sound effect.  I assume he was trying to communicate to me via soundage what my little gray hairs do.  They are, in fact, quite PREEEEEIIIIIING! (if you want to put so fine a point on it) and they kind of poke out all rebellious-like.

“Put The Secret Patch away,” I mumbled. “It’s supposed to be hidden.”

“Ok,” Joey agreed, pushing my hairs back and patting the the spot where The Secret Patch was now hidden. “You’re getting old,” he said.

So old, in fact, that I immediately rolled over and fell asleep.  It was way, way past my bedtime.

The Valium

The Valium

I am going to Chicago for Easter.  I am going half for the Woestman girls vacation, and half because Sister lives there, so you can guarantee it’ll be a rockin’ good time.

I stalled for weeks (almost months) on deciding whether or not I’d go, because I’ll have to fly on an airplane to get there.  Maybe you remember how I hate airplanes.  If you don’t remember, let me refresh your memory.

I HATE AIRPLANES.

Sister was quite adament that I get over my fear and come up to Chicago.  (As was MIL, whose exact words were “suck it up”.)  So I sucked it up and let Joey buy me tickets.  Yes, I realize that I could have bought them myself, but I wasn’t able to suck it up that far.  If I was going to go, Joey was going to have to be the one to lay down the money for it.

Once the tickets were purchased, and MIL and Sister were both proud of me, Sister called to inform me that she had two Valium pills left over from when she had her MRI (she’s claustrophobic) and that I could have them for my flights.

Fortunately I have a direct flight from Love to Ohare, otherwise there’d be a drugged up Jenna wandering around some airport in an unknown town looking for Henry or something like that.

I lose my mind when I have Sudafed, Benadryl or NyQuil.  I have never consumed Valium before…methinks it may be dangeresque.  Especially since I was going to take the El from Ohare to Sister’s house on Thursday night, kinda late.

I may wind up in Iowa on accident.

Oh, and the Valium pills are still in my purse. I keep forgetting to take them out, which means that if I spill my purse or something, I look like a total druggie.

Sister, if I spout heresy or begin sobbing on the shoulder of the person I’m sitting next to on the plane…I probably blame you.  However, if I make it to Chicago without a meltdown, I’ll give you some kind of award.

Maybe Best Sister Ever award.

17 days and counting…

Things about Monday

Things about Monday

Here are some observations about today, which is Monday, and why it is weird/lame:

1.  Henry didn’t want me to go this morning.  I heard him, he said, “Mommy, don’t go.  Stay here with me.  I want to play outside.”

2.  Because of that, I decided to throw caution to the wind and drink a Pepsi today, even though it is not Wednesday.  Joey was sweet enough to call and remind me, but I was already twenty sips in by the time he called.  (It takes me well over an hour to drink a Pepsi; I have to take very small sips.  I don’t know why.)

3.  Just now, I almost threw up from eating a potato chip.  Not because the chip was gross, but because it was way longer and skinnier than I originally estimated. When I popped the whole thing in my mouth I must have picked a bad angle, because it hit my gag reflex.  I didn’t lose it, though.  It was just close.

4.  My Google Reader was so clogged up from not being cleared out for over a week that it stressed me out more than my email backlog (which is saying something).  I clicked “mark all as read” an hour ago, and I feel much more at peace with things.