Friday, January 28, 2011

Here's my dad! He's so happy!

See? He's stifling a laugh! Everyone (including myself) loves my dad. He's consistently hilarious, un-tired, vastly intelligent and DID I MENTION HE'S FILTHY RICH?

It's because he's a dentist. Unfortunately, inside of me is the mystical belief that dentists are actually the minions of Satan sent here to do his wicked bidding. Just kidding! Not really.

When people are like, "Oh your dad's such a good dentist! He's hilarious!" or "I saw your dad last week, he's the best!" do you know how I reply? Jesus would have never been a dentist. That means something.

When I was growing up, when I thought about dad at home it was, "Dad! Tee hee! Love him!" However, whenever I had a dental appointment with him, he transformed.
Did I mention that I had/have to get a lot of dental work done because I have weak enamel? By the age of 8, I had 4 crowns, despite brushing my teeth (almost) daily. I still remember what I call The Worst Day of My Life.

The Scene: Dad's dental office. Mom is with me, everyone else is pretty much gone because it's lunch time.

Mom: Okay, baby girl, you're gonna be fine. Daddy just needs to fill one cavity this time! *happy face* And now that you've already gone to the bathroom three time since we arrived, I just know that we won't have to change your clothes halfway through the procedure this time. *reassuring pat on back* How's that for great?!
Julia: I think the teapots have finally lost their battle, mother.
Mom: *concerned face*
Julia: And forever will they be enslaved to those wretched mermen of the united sea colonies. *eyes roll back*
Mom: Oh baby, are you hallucinating again? And you're so sweaty! The doctor said that your anxiety-induced visions would subside on the new medication...*gets out handkerchief*
Dad: Alright baby! Come on back, I'll make this quick. Juju?
Mom: I think you might have to carry her again, honey.
Dad: I'm getting too old for this. SHE'S getting too old for this. *grunt* You're not getting lighter, baby. If you're old enough to wear a bra, shouldn't you be old enough to walk to the operatory?
Julia: *incoherent mumbling*
Dad: If you say that you're speaking Sanskrit this time, I WON'T BELIEVE YOU. Fool me once, shame on you...
Julia: *whisper* It's Old Norse *pathetic cough* This chair...it's so...cold.
Dad: Nope. It's not. *pulls on gloves* Okay, open up, baby....Open. Julia Miriam, open your mouth. *plugs Julia's nose*
Julia: *GASP*
Dad: There we go...Okay, this is gonna go really fast, baby. *gets out instruments*
Julia: MOOOOOOAN. No, Daddy! GAAAAAAH. Don't, please! It's going to...IT HURTS!! AAAAAAAAAAGH! *waves arms wildly*
Dad: Stop it. STOP IT. This is only the suction tube!
Julia: DEAR LORD HELP MEEEEEEE. *gurgle*
Dad: I'm not even touching you right now! What are you gurgling?
Julia: *leans forward* BLOOD! MY MOUTH IS FULL OF BLOOD!!! *vomits into spit sink*
Dad: ...That looks less like blood and more like the mint chocolate chip ice cream I JUST bought! I thought I told your mother not to let you eat anything before you came. She knows how you get worked up.
Julia: I LOST MY GLASSES! WHERE ARE MY GLASSES? I CAN'T SEE ANYTHING? I CAN FEEL THE BLOOD ALL OVER MEEEE.
Dad: Baby, stop screaming. Look at me. *grabs Julia's shoulders* There is no blood anywhere. And your mother has your glasses, because remember how last time you bit them in half out of fury afterI cleaned your teeth last month? Now, are you going to calm down so I can do this? I haven't even put the suction tube in your mouth yet.
Julia: *looks dad in the eye* You would never do this to me if you loved me. *narrows eyes* Never.
Dad: ...and we're going to take you to a pediatric dentist.

Friday, January 21, 2011

Prenatal Care

Dr: Well, well, Julia! *pulls off gloves*  The exam is over and you look great! 
Julia: Thanks! *sitting up* I straightened my hair this morning!
Dr: Ah...yes, your hair does look nice. But I was talking about your...uh, your uterus. 
Julia: Oh, well thanks. *shoulder shrug* Good genes, I guess.
Dr: *sitting down* So, do you have any questions for me this week about the pregnancy?
Julia: Yeah, actually. *pulls out notepad* I wrote them down.
Dr: Great!
Julia: Let's see...*reading* Can the baby hear my farts?
Dr: *furrowed brow* Well...*readjusts chair* I suppose it probably could, when its hearing develops well enough...
Julia: GAWD I was afraid you'd say that. *hangs head* Humiliating.
Dr: *silence*
Julia: *clears throat* Next question! Is there any reliable way to predict if the baby is going to be really pretty like me, or just kind of boring-looking, like Sloan?
Dr: What? No, I don't think so.
Julia: *eye roll* Figures.*reading* How will I know if the fetus wants to tell me something if it can't even talk?
Dr: Want something? Like, if it's hungry?
Julia: Sure! Or if it's wondering if the movie I'm watching is, in fact, as violent as it sounds. A lot of times, fight scenes sound worse than they really are. 
Dr. I don't know--
Julia: *huff* WHAT'S NEW. Next question: How hard can I work out when I'm pregnant?
Dr: Ah, good question. You need to keep your heart rate--
Julia: JUST KIDDING! *chuckle* Now this one is important: is it considered acceptable parenting if I only put the baby in baby costumes after it's born?
Dr: Baby costumes? Like a costume to make the baby look like a baby?
Julia: *pats doctor on back* I figured this would be a little confusing for you to understand. *speaks slowly* I mean costumes that fit on babies. I brought a couple of pictures. *pulls out binder* Now, take this marker, and put an X over anything that you don't think would look that cute. Put a star by everything that could be considered church appropriate. I'll come back at 3 to pick this up.


 

Thursday, January 20, 2011

This is Why You're Fat

Julia: *walks in front door* *sigh*
Sloan: How was the doctor's appointment?
Julia: The doctor said that I'm not gassy.
Sloan: *takes off glasses* Well, I beg to differ.
Julia: I mean, the gas isn't the root of the problem.
Sloan: Again, I beg to differ--
Julia: It's a baby.
Sloan: What?
Julia: The gas. It's a baby.
Sloan: *head tilt* How can gas be a baby?
Julia: *drops photo in Sloan's lap*
Sloan: *squint* What is that? A bean?
Julia: It's an ultrasound. I'm pregnant.
Sloan: *turns to Julia* *squint*
Julia: *sigh*
Sloan: *extended squint*
Julia: *sigh*
Sloan: Soooo *squint* does this mean the gassiness is staying around for a while?

Wednesday, January 12, 2011

A Glimpse of Whim

I GOT A PHONE IN WHICH A CAMERA IS INSTALLED!!!! That means that I can take pictures ANYWHERE that I take my phone!!! This blog is going to be a whole lot more awesome, because I'm going to open up my WHOLE LIFE to you through images!!!! This will be presented in installments, in a serious I'd like to call * <3 Julia Rehder's World of Whimsy <3 *© 

The first in the series is below:
{@~ Live. Laugh. Love. Cubicle. ~@}

Kleenex? Where art thou?
Poms. Always.
A place of respite for the weary developer.
Food graveyard.
My comforting alabaster chunk.
Computer accessory graveyard
Refuse. Waste. The end.

All because two people fell in love.

Tuesday, January 11, 2011

A Typical Monday Night

The Scene: Waiting in the drive-through line at the Walgreen's pharmacy. I'm in the driver's seat, Sloan is in the passenger's seat.

Sloan: Hey, baby?
Julia: Yeah ba-
Sloan: *FAAAAAAAAAAART* *grin*
Julia: *poker face* Yes? *ignoring fart* Were you going to say something?
Sloan: *grin*
Julia:  *contorted face* GAH! It smells like rancid taco meat!!! *gag* *unlocks doors* GET OUT OF THE CAR!!
Sloan: *scoffs* No way. You get out.
Julia: *rolls down Sloan's window, locks windows*
Sloan: Come ON! Roll it up! It's 13 degrees outside!!
Julia: No, you deserve this. *self-satisfied grin*
Sloan: *lunges for car horn*
Julia: *karate chop* DON'T HONK IT!!! The people in front of us will think we're rude!!!!!!
Sloan: *serious face* Then roll up the window, Julia.
Julia: *begrudgingly rolls up window* Fine, but I'm only doing thi-
Sloan: *FAAAAAAAAAAAAAAART* *grin*

Wednesday, January 5, 2011

Projection

My little man is cracking me up! Some updates.
  • Sloan has, so far, watched Law & Order: SVU for several hours every night since Sunday, honestly, I don't see any end in sight. He loves Mariska Hargitay.
  • We ordered a pizza tonight and Sloan ate FIVE slices! I only had two. It was not the other way around.
  • Sloan takes at least two baths a day, like he's some kind of princess! I don't do that.
  • The little man eats cereal in bed, his bowls are all over the bedroom. Even on my nightstand.
He's the worst! These things have to stop, and I just don't know how to help the little guy.