Saturday, January 22, 2011

My Name is Luca

No seriously that's his name. 

We had some new neighbors move in. They're state department so you never know what you're gonna get with those guys. This family has two boys so Jonah is in heaven. The first time they invited him into their house, I told them I had to meet some parents before he could go play ('cause I'm awesome at parenting) so their mom came over to say hi. One of the first things she said to me was, "I'm not an 'uber-mom.'  

What's that phrase about Sherlock? I can't remember.

Anyway, I am a huge advocate for anti-uber-moms everywhere.

However, 

  Everyday, Luca gets off the bus and has to walk up a grass hill and past my house before he gets home. Everyday, on his way up the hill, he slips, falls, decides that was awesome and plays in the mud before he continues his walk home. Then he stops at my house and tries to come inside and play looking like this. Everyday, I say, "No, Luca, you need to go home and take a bath first." I think Luca's mom could use a bit more "uber," but who am I to judge?
  Peter keeps telling me I should enjoy this while I can. But has he ever had to clean up after Luca?

Tuesday, January 18, 2011

Peacocking

Megan sent me this great read.


If you don't have a husband who is into cycling, it might be hard to relate to. If you're like Megan, Susan and I however, you'll read it and say 'get outta my brain!'

 Think back to when you were a 14 year old girl. Now do you remember the way you looked at other 14 year old girls? It wasn't very nice was it. Well dude's aren't immune to that stuff. That's how cyclists look at each other, always measuring each other up.  Nobody can chest thump like a skinny guy who shaves his legs, perfected the farmer's blow, and loves wearing spandex.

Monday, January 17, 2011

Lesson: If You Talk About Someone on the Internet, They Might Find Out.

  I don't think I'll ever learn this lesson.

Today Pete came home from work with a little gift bag for me. I thought the bag was from him but there was a post-it note on the bag that said;

Pete-
  My wife wanted me to give this to you to pass along to your wife.

I looked in the bag. Oh no. Oh no. Oh Yes.


 Two packages of gauze underwear and a box of KT Tape.  There was a note included;

  Dear Angela,
   My boss forwarded me a link to your blog earlier this week. I did some research, made a few calls, and tracked down something I think you're going to like. And just for the record, that black dress was, 'smokin' hot!

I'm feeling such a strange mix of emotions. I would be embarrassed if this wasn't so awesome. I love this chick! I have my day all planned out tomorrow. I'm going to go on a long run, enabled by the magic tape, and then reward my hard work with a shower and an afternoon in gauze heaven.


  Here's the problem though, I've just written three separate blog posts about gauze underwear. 

I'm wasting my life. 






Friday, January 14, 2011

Jensen Family Christmas Letter

Here is a copy of the Christmas letter we sent out this year. I still have about 7 more that I'd like to send out. I dunno if it's gonna happen. If I missed you, I'm sorry. My house has been on the market and I sorta ran out of Christmas steam around December 23rd. 



Ezra Jensen here, the newest member of the Jensen family. I decided to take charge of the Jensen Family Christmas Letter this year. You know what they say, if you want something done right  . . .
My parents didn’t send out Christmas cards in 2009. I’m not really sure why, it’s not like there were any major events, like hmmm you know MY BIRTH or anything. Sheesh! Don’t worry, I can give you a quick synopsis. Okay, 2009. I was born. My mom turned 30, my dad caught the swine flu, and the family bought a new car, which my mom ran out of gas and got us stranded in three times. I guess that’s pretty much it.
So last week, when the topic of a 2010 Christmas card came up, the conversation went something like this:

Dad: We need to write our Christmas letter. Remind me again. Why didn’t we do one last year?

Mom: Hmm, let’s see. I’d just had a baby so it didn’t really fit into my sleep-deprived schedule. That, and you didn’t buy a bike in ’09 so I didn’t have much to write about.

Well in response to that dig, Peter promptly went out and bought himself a new bike.  That’s when I knew that I needed to take over.
So 2010, where do I start? I’ve learned some valuable lessons this year. First, if you are the baby of a family that’s got five kids sharing two rooms, you pretty much have full control over everything. If you’re sleeping, they have to be silent. If you wake up, they all wake up. Sometimes I scream in the middle of the night for no reason other than to let them know that I’m still in charge. Now if only I could learn to use these powers for good instead of evil.
One funny thing that happened this year, well not so much funny as humiliating, was that I had some cosmetic work done. Some jerk at church told my mom that I had a funny looking head. Now, the normal reaction of a mother would be to get offended. Not my mom though, she carted me off to the helmet doctor to get my uniquely shapen head taken care of. You shoulda seen the looks I got. For three straight months, people would look at me with confusion, pity, and sometimes disgust. Of course, if it was a spectacle they wanted, then I was gonna give it to ‘em. So just for show, I’d find the nearest hard surface and whack my helmeted head against it repeatedly. It was pretty adorable if I do say so myself. And the fans loved it because people would point at me and whisper the word “special.”
Let’s see, what else was fun to watch? Oh yeah, the summer was awesome. We hung out at the pool a lot. Jonah (6) participated in the swim team for the first time ever, where we learned that he has a case of pre-race-nerves-induced IBS. So that was pretty entertaining.
And, the family decided to take a trip to the Outer Banks at the peak of hurricane season. Pros: Shea (8) learned to use a boogie board, and she is awesome. Pete took her out into the ocean, about 100 feet out. He accidently let go of her board as a huge wave picked her up. She disappeared under water just long enough for my mom to shriek a few choice words before she resurfaced and glided gracefully onto the sand. Cons: Actually there were no cons because it turns out that evacuating a beach town is as much fun as everyone says it is.
My parents went to Paris for a week.  A trip they’d been planning for years. Grandma came to stay with us kids and we didn’t mind a bit. Good thing too, because my mom and dad came home fatter, and all lovey-dovey. It was disgusting.
Eliza (9) is busy giving my parents lots of grey hairs. She has announced that when she grows up, she wants to be “a teenager.” And she refuses to wear pants. She doesn’t even own a pair. I’m gonna go ahead and predict that the interaction between her and my dad over the course of the next 9 years is going to be entertaining to say the least.
Sloane, (the two year old with the unibrow) however, has her dad wrapped around her chubby little finger. Everyone oohhs and ahhhs about how cute she is. They just laugh and smile when she does adorable things like scream “GO AWAY” or pees her pants in the hotel lobby, or worst of all, pushes me over when I’m just mindin’ my own business. I don’t talk yet, but I have already chosen my first sentence to be: “My therapist is going to have a field day with this!”
            Well I guess that is about all I have to say. But I hope all of you are as happy as I am. I live in a warm happy home, I’m surrounded by people who love me, and I can almost always find a reason to smile.

Wishing you a very Merry Christmas on behalf of Peter, Angela, Eliza, Shea, Jonah, and Sloane Jensen.

Love,
Ezra Bud Jensen



Monday, January 10, 2011

Speaking of Gauze Underwear . . .

   Who knew that a post about a fancy holiday party would rouse such strong emotions about hospital underwear. Which got me to thinking, I've been reading blogs for a, um like three or four years,  (Wow, so much time wasted, I could be fluent in Russian by now.)

  Most of the blogs I read are written by moms, (notice how I am not going to take advantage of this perfect opportunity to poke fun at blogging moms because I'm notta jerk and I don't want to get 30 hate comments like I did 3 years ago, there are some real piranhas out there) moms in their child bearing years. That means that I've read countless birth stories. Home births, overseas births, former Jazz dancer births, tragic births, births of multiples, adoption birth, you name it, I've read about it. Some are good, some are great, some not so great. Hey, I've even written one. So let's just assume for a minute that I am a very good judge of birth stories. 

 Behold, I give you the greatest birth story I have ever in my life read. Not even kidding, I've re-read it three times. It's just that good. I'm not trying to be funny, check it out and you'll see what I mean. 

Amanda, the next time I'm in Utah, or if you're ever in D.C. please let me buy you dinner because you are awesome.

Thursday, January 6, 2011

Holiday Party

   I am in between my only two holiday parties of the season. I know, not normal to be saying that on January 6th, but I said holiday, not Christmas, so quit judging. Anyway, I'm still sort of haunted by the first party. It was Pete's firm's Christmas party. It was a formal dinner. Tricky. For me at least, I'm a stay-at-home-mom so when I go to formal work dinners, I want to look awesome without sending a message that I got totally dolled up for my fancy night out because I don't get out of the house much. It's tough, real tough. 
 Anyway, We're sitting at dinner, and I'm on my best behavior ya know? Tryna act all cool. If you know me, you might think this comes naturally for me, it doesn't. Shocking. There were 4 couples at our table and we were chatting, I asked this one attorney's wife who I had just met, what she did. And she says, "I'm the head of marketing for KT Tape." 
  "Oh? What does the company do?" I ask, praying silently that the whole table doesn't burst out laughing because I've never heard of KT Tape. 
 "It's okay, we're a small company." Then she explains that it's a medical elastic tape that's used to treat sports injuries. I guess it's been around for a long time but their company decided to make it a product that anyone could buy, not just doctors. Then the table launches into a sophisticated discussion about what a great idea that is. There are so many medical products that you don't have to be a genius to know how to use, but for some reason they don't sell them over the counter, only doctors and hospitals have access to them. 
  "Yeah yeah," I chime in, "The last time I was at the hospital, I was like all, 'Can I puh-lease have like 5 extra pairs of those gauze underwear? I love that stuff!'" 

You guessed it. 

  The table goes silent and everyone stares at me, even the other two moms who knew exactly what I was talking about suddenly pretend like they had never heard of amazing hospital gauze underwear. (Thanks a lot girls for hanging me out to dry.) The KT Tape wife looks at me, face smiling but inside she was wondering who's this zoo animal (wearing a smokin' hot black dress) ? 

"I don't really understand." was the last thing she said to me the entire night. 

Well, I tried. So much for my big night in the city. At least them mini lemon pies was good. Coulda' eaten' 10 a those suckers.

  This Saturday, I am going to my work party. The group fitness post holiday party. I think Pete's a bit nervous because spouses aren't invited and I think that when he hears group fitness, he's picturing ripped straight personal trainers with German accents. In reality, could this crowd be any more the opposite? Only the secret iphone pics will tell. Stay tuned . . .