He’s Got Jokes.

My son declared he’s not going to tell any jokes anymore. “They’re mean,” he explained, “and I can get in trouble at school.”

Me: “Not all jokes are mean! I can teach you some. Let’s try it. Knock, knock.” Continue reading

Clown Pants

My sister sent me these pants, insisting they were made from real gossamer fairy wings. I am tempted to wear them in public for the sole purpose of having an airline or sanctimonious mom blogger chastise me for my indecency, but that would require too much energy. Continue reading

Our Day

Me and the boy, goofing around with PhotoBooth back in October

 

I came home from class this evening with only minutes to spare before Jaz’s bedtime.

Not only have I been working later, but when I *do* get home, I go straight to bed. I haven’t really seen or talked to my boy since Sunday. So, I was feeling pretty guilty when Martin sent him to me for a quick hug. Continue reading

Sunday Funday

This morning, our cat Kiwi released a live, furious wasp into the bathroom where Martin was, um, sitting, and then ran out to let him deal with it alone.

It’s hard to read her facial expression, but I’m pretty sure she did that on purpose. Continue reading

First Shot

This morning, I checked my blood, and then accidentally stabbed my eye with my mascara wand, and then impaled my hand on an open safety pin. Fitting, because today is the first day I get to inject myself with insulin because my pancreas is on strike. I got the Porsche of diabetes equipment, apparently, so it should be pretty easy and fast.

Martin went with me to see how it is done. He doesn’t know yet that I’m gonna make him do it.

(He may be on to me, though, as I’ve slipped and called him Nurse Ratched about three times already…)

The shot itself appears easier than the MOPP nerve-agent injection pens we got in the military, too. No need to bend the needle and hang it from my chest! Continue reading

Night Breathing

For the past few days, my son has been coming to us in the middle of the night, seeking help when his asthma flares up, and he can’t stop coughing. Fortunately, a few puffs of albuterol do the trick, but I keep him with us so I can listen to him in the night.

Usually takes awhile for me to fall back asleep, but that’s mom-life, right? Continue reading