• That dull ache in your head is not your imagination

    Sinusitis. The pain starts on the side of my face; under my eye and in front of my temple. The pain spreads to my eyebrow ridges, across the forehead and down the other side. The cheek bones come next, followed by a slight pain with each inhalation somewhere behind my nose.

    Tension. The pain starts just under my hairline on my forehead. It slowly spreads to each temple and jumps the gap to the back of my head and neck.

    The sinus pain is easy to explain, I have allergies which manifest themselves in chronic sinusitis. But why am I suffering from a tension headache? It is elementary my dear reader. Spending money on a new computer is freaking me out, man. I enjoy a new toy as much as the next guy, but spending three figures on anything has always given me pause. And when we were buying our house? I had to be fully sedated.

    I am consoled by the fact that it is a neat new toy, but it is at home. That empty feeling in my pocket follows me everywhere I go, but I’ve only enjoyed my new purchase while I’ve been at home. Now picture this, Cheryl and I go out and buy a new computer. We come home, drop it off, and drive (sans new computer) to Cheryl’s parent’s house. From there we go out for dinner. When we finish with dinner, the group decides to go to Target to look for a new pair of sandals for Beth. (CAPTAIN! THERE’S A WHOLE LOT OF SARCASM DEAD AHEAD AND I’M NOT SURE SHE’LL HOLD UP TO THE STRAIN!!) Now I like shopping for sandals as much as the next guy, but it doesn’t hold a candle to a brand spankin’ new PowerBook.

    We finally get home, but I’m still not free. Beth has been waiting to play her new Sponge Bob Typing program all afternoon. Being The Man means installing new software when it comes into the house – and suffering through one more distraction from the PowerBook. Soon Cheryl and Beth are going at it like two sisters arguing over the right way to braid Barbie’s hair. The game is not going well and they each have an idea as to how it should be played. (Cheryl has this real hang up with rules and “intended use.” Beth couldn’t really care less.) Being The Man means sitting quietly on the sidelines, hoping not to be drawn in, waiting patiently and hopefully for it all to pass – and suffering through one more distraction from the PowerBook. Sooner rather than later, our favorite television program comes on – just before our normal bedtime. Ravaged with indecision, I watched the show – further putting off playing with the PowerBook.

    Now I’m at work.

    Is it any wonder I’m so screwed up this morning?

  • A day of firsts

    Today was the first time that I pushed Cheryl around the mall in a wheel chair. Today was the first time Beth broke the family room couch. Today was the first time that I went to the store and bought a shoot ’em up computer game.

    Oh yeah, today was also the first time I posted an entry from the new computer.

    Holy cow, you bought another new computer?

    Yes, yes. Pilgrimages to the computer store are becoming quite frequent around these parts. There will doubtless be a day when these last few years will be looked back upon as the golden years of the Kauffman Family Household (version 2.2). As I look back upon the last few years I am filled with wonder. 2001: the year of the iBook. 2003: the year of eMac. 2004: the year of the PowerBook.

    How sweet it is.

    But why buy a PowerBook? There were three factors in the choice, 1) a windfall; 2) a wife that made me do it; and, 3) a little matter of spending it on your stuff before someone can think of something else to spend it on.

    Take that new tube of envy, squeeze out a generous portion, and rub it all in baby!!!

  • The nesting mother scores big time

    Tomorrow, August 26, 2004 – a date that will live in infamy – the Kauffman household will be visited by men who will take away our extra king sized bed. As many of you may know, this is an event we have not come upon lightly. Opposing forces have repeatedly skirmished over the fate of that precious space: the baby’s room. Neutral arbiters have weighed in with their opinions, both in person and on the phone, and good sense, it seems, has won the day. But what room does good sense leave for sentiment, for history, for commitment? The bed, which was bought because an expectant mother sought comfort while her first child nurtured in her womb, is to be ushered out as the second child follows in the footsteps of the first.

    I have been asked why we should keep this thing, a bed we no longer use and which takes up too much room. None of my reasons have been very good, or practical. What room is there for sentiment when matters are merely practical? Apparently there isn’t any in a baby’s room.

    I am a fool. It is only a bed.