Friday, January 19, 2007
I'm trying not to be cynical. There's a certain expectation I have for myself that, when I write, it should be fun to read. "Fun" in this sense equates with "funny", at least, for me. I like to think that I can be funny if given enough time (here I go, claiming more talent than I probably actually have) but my particular brand of funny is sarcasm, which so easily lapses into cynicism. And I think there are enough real cynics in this world without me adding to the mess with my vain attempts at comedy. So forgive me if (when?) I become cynical. It's the cold, I tell you.
Monday, January 8, 2007
I think Baby Wrangling should become an Olympic event.
I can see it now: "Sprengeler snuggles down on the top bunk. And they're wheeling in the crib, baby and all. Looks like this one is sleeping soundly - but not for long, don't you worry. . . And there's the signal! The baby wails, loud and clear, and it's up to Sprengeler to make sure the lady on the bottom bunk stays sleeping! He's off the bed in one fluid motion, hits the floor with both feet - just look at that landing, ladies and gentlemen - now he's got the Nuk, and it's back in the baby's mouth! Her head hits the mattress, and she's asleep. Amazing! Did you see that? The clock stands at 3.7 seconds, and not a single movement on the bottom bunk! Let's see what the judges think - 9.7, 9.7, 9.6, 9.8 . . ."
Think about it. They could give out medals for squirting liquid ibuprofen into little mouths, or stuffing protesting babies into sleepers (with 300 snaps) while half asleep, or fishing bits of paper out from between wildly gnashing jaws while avoiding razor-sharp incisors. Points deducted if the baby draws blood. I think I could take the Gold, at least in the "Back to Sleep" event. I need to work on subduing babies with dirty diapers that need to be changed but don't want to (case in point: last night we had a poopy diaper, which became poopy diaper-back-bodysuit-romper-floor through Julia's enthusiastic efforts).
Monday, January 1, 2007
Today, I learned about blogging. Mike keeps asking me whether or not I want to "keep a blog," and I keep saying, "sure." So, I guess it must have been his New Year's Resolution to follow through with it. Here's our blog. It's name reflects our (the editorial "our") future wishes: to live in the middle of nowhere, MN, practice medicine, and raise kids and alpacas. Sounds like fun, huh? For now, we will delay gratification of living out that dream and instead raise our one child, plus a dog and a cat, and continue the mission of School.
I have every intention of posting pictures of our little Julia online, but again, that's Mike's job. He knows how to make the camera talk to the computer. The camera and computer have private little conversations in which the computer suddenly knows all the pictures the camera has seen in the past few weeks/months, and the camera's memory is wiped clean, ready for new impressions. When I figure out how to instigate a delightful conversation like that, I'll post pictures all over the web.
Today is my last day of vacation until April 19th, 2007. Tomorrow I drive to the Anoka Treatment Center and begin to study Psychiatry. Mike and Julia move across town to the In-Laws to live for a few days. I'm sure they will be spoiled rotten, by a grandma and grandpa who specialize in spoiling of first grandchildren. Psymuhn, our deaf doggie, will accompany them, because my mom's doggie, Gretta, went postal on him today.