Pooptastic

Bergen came up with two new "poop" phrases today before 9 a.m. Can someone PLEASE tell me when this phase will end?!

#1
Mommy: "Bergen, I think you're fantastic."
Bergen: "I think you're pooptastic!"


#2
Mommy: "That's a map of the United States of America."
Bergen: "The United States of Pooperica!"

Honestly.

School

My first packet (two creative essays + two critical essays) is due to my faculty advisor in two days. Starting to feel the anxiety...

And, really, I have to say that most of my nervousness is not so much about this first packet -- but about the sudden realization that I have to come up with 20-30 pages of new work every month for the next two years.

See? Now that I just wrote it out, I feel faint. :), Jen

Jens Column / Spoons

For Erma Bombeck, it was socks. They'd disappear from her dryer never to be seen again. At my house, it's spoons.

It started when my oldest son was a toddler. As I watched him grow, I watched the stack of spoons in our cutlery tray shrink, from ten spoons to nine. To eight. To seven.

"Where are they all going?" I asked my husband, accusingly.

"Well, I'm not hiding them," he answered. But between you and me, I was beginning to think he was.

And then one day, as our two-year-old cleared his dinner plate (his latest parlor trick), we watched him throw his leftover hot dog coins, his two remaining green beans, his small stack of orange peels — and his spoon — into the garbage. (Incidentally, it was at about this time that our television remote, my favorite red gel pen, and six of our nine fridge magnets also went missing. I can't prove it, but I think there's a connection.)

Since then, we've been spoon deficient. While our forks take up two sections in our cutlery tray, our meager spoon offerings barely fill one.

At Christmas a few years ago, my mom asked what was on my wish list.

"Spoons," I answered.

"Spoons?"

"Yah, spoons."

"Like a silverware set?"

"No, just the spoons."

We've managed to stay status quo for a few years — getting by with a motley collection of spoons we've amassed over time. (Case in point: I've bought breakfast cereals based solely on the free plastic light-up spoon inside.)

Still, mealtime compromise has become a way of life. The kids squeeze soupspoons into their yogurt cups. They eat their Cinnamon Life with serving spoons. On really bad days, they bring applesauce to their lips with those miniature decorative collector spoons.
I was away for work recently. When I returned home, our spoon inventory had declined to the point of ridiculousness.

"We have three spoons," I announced as I set the table for dinner my first night back.

"How can we have three spoons?"

"I don't know," my husband answered. "Chipmunks?"

"Would your mom have put them away somewhere else when she was here?" I asked, digging through the towel drawer.

"I'm pretty sure she knows where the spoons go," he answered.

I moved on to the next most-likely culprits.

"Where did all the spoons go?" I asked my boys, whom I'd cornered in the bathtub.
They were earnest, if obvious.

"Did you look in the silverware drawer?" my oldest son asked.

"Yes."

"How about the dishwasher?" offered my youngest son.

"Yes."

"Then we don't know."

"Thanks for your help."

I searched all the logical places: The bathtub, the sandbox, our nightstands, the storage space under the stairs. When those yielded no utensils — spoons or otherwise — I looked under beds, in the crisper drawer of the refrigerator, and in the cup holders in the van. I looked in the boys' sock drawers and next to the fire pit. I checked the dryer.

Nothing.

"Unless we want to take shifts every time we have soup, we need to find our spoons!" I hollered in frustration.

But, frankly, no one else at my house seems to care.

It remains a mystery — the Great Spoon Calamity of 2008. We still have three spoons — unless you count my collection of teaspoons and tablespoons. Which, really, you should. Because we're going to start using them next.

Meet Darla... my new boat and the girl I named her after

Last night I picked up the "new" boat. A 1955 Crestliner with original gas tank and trailer. 18 horse 1957 Johnson outboard motor and wooden bench seats. I have not been this excited since Jen discovered a "skin" channel hidden in our TV cable package.

She pulls well behind the minivan (damn, I need a cooler vehicle) and the kids love it! I can't wait to get it on the water. Why Darla you ask? I named it after Darla "the fish killer" in Finding Nemo - by Pixar.

Thanks Dan from Austin for the boat.
Thanks Pixar.
- Jay

Jay's Fishing Trip

Jay went to Lake Pepin today and came home with walleyes! Glory hallelujah!

See Jen Climb

Check out this link:

http://www.rochestermagazine.com/treetop/tremors/story-269.html

to see Jen teetering precariously 30 feet above the ground on a telephone wire.

Overheard Conversation

At the lunch table today, I heard this exchange between Christian and Bergen:


Christian (tauntingly): OK, Berger...

Bergen (taunting right back): OK, Christi...

Christian (impressed by his brother's comeback): Oh yah! Bring it on!


Too funny.

The boys have Quarry Hill Nature Camp today, and it's thunderstorming outside. Guess those outdoor hamster races aren't going to go on after all. :), Jen

From Captain to Commodore

Big News!

This coming Tuesday I am adding boat number 4 to the Koski fleet.

Yes! (Tiger Woods arm pumps)

This one will make sail on the waters around the cabin as it is our new permanent cabin boat. With gas prices as they are - it would easily pay for itself against towing my big rig back and forth from Rochester. Our "new" boat is vintage 1957 from its wooden seats to its Johnson 18 horse motor. A real head-turner. No leaks, runs well and all original. Wait, it does have a few modern add-ons... clamp on seats and a 36 pound thrust electric trolling motor...sweeeet.

It is unlucky to have a boat without a name so any suggestions would be appreciated. I am thinking of something that reflects "1957".

- Jay

BBall PIC

Christian's photos came in!

Yesterdays game came at a price as Christian was hit in the leg while pitching and had to sit out the inning. But that is not the news... Christian pitched his first strike out and is on a 9 and 0 team! (Must be that assistant coach - see PIC below, back row, left)

- Jay

Where is Waldo?

Can you find the 2 handsome devils in this photo?

Baseball PIC

Presenting Greensboro Grasshoppers finest.

Here is the nitty gritty:
1) We just discovered that right handed Bergen is a left handed batter!
2) Christian's PICs should be in this week or next.
3) Assistant coaching to Christian's team, the Diamond Jaxx, has gone well. Hands down, easier than head coaching hockey. That's a tip to you coaching moms and dads out there.

Later
Jay

Christian and Bergen say...

Christian says...

Hi. That's it. Please stop typing. I said, "Please!" There can be no living with you after this.


Bergen says...

Poop. Did you type in "poop?" Did you actually type in "poop?" Poooop. Wow...

I'm back!

Back in Minnesota -- happy, happy, joy, joy! Had a great time in Vermont and am excited to get rolling with the semester... but, boy, did I miss those boys.

Hope everyone had a Happy 4th! Smooches! -- Jen