August 2005

Where are they now?

I got my 15th college reunion class book in the mail today. This tome consists of pages with photos and stories of our lives submitted by me and many of my classmates from Stanford.

Mostly, the stories go like this:

• Graduated from Stanford.
• Went into high tech/became an attorney/became a doctor.
• Met the love of their life and had children.
• Can't wait to see everyone at reunion this fall.

It's interesting to see who looked better during college and who looks better now. Not sure which camp I fall into, but Lord, the photo I sent reproduced terribly. I look thirty pounds heavier in the photo (really, I'm not that fat.)

I thought I'd been keeping up pretty well with the people who were important or interesting to me, but I was wrong. The book reminded me of a lot of fun times during college with lots of folks I've lost touch with. Fortunately, most people included contact info, so I'll be saying hello to some old friends soon.

Another broken arm

Well, Andrew (8) broke his arm again. It's the same arm as last year, almost exactly a year later. Once again, he broke it on a play structure, this time at swim and tennis camp. He toughed it out mostly (pulling the tape off his arms to remove the IV was the worst part). Now he's in bed watching videos and eating Crunch bars.

This is becoming an annual start-of-school tradition. Not a good one.

More stuff I never expected to say

As if the chair incident weren't enough:

"Michael (5), when someone pees on you, don't pee on them."

(From camp this week)

More annoying than Jar Jar Binks

Q: What's more annoying than watching Jar Jar Binks in the Star Wars movies?

A: Listening to Andrew (8) run around doing Jar Jar impressions. (He's actually pretty good, but that just makes it worse.)

Kill me now.

Good memory

Michael turned five today. It's trite but true: I don't know where the time went.

This morning at breakfast, I asked Andrew (8) if he remembered when Michael was born. He actually recounted a fair bit of detail of being at the hospital, the toys he tried to explain to Michael, and getting to hold Michael for the first time.

Michael: "I punched you right?"
Andrew: "No, you were asleep."
Michael: "I hated you holding me."

Some kids are just born mean.