STOP THE PRESSES! (Koopsen Spring Break Part 3)

Aunt Sarah just told me that she sent the link to this blog to all of the cousins who aren't currently with us at the beach house.  I had no idea that anyone was reading this besides my two usual followers (Hi Sarah!  Hi Elle!).  So I am SO SORRY that I have been talking mostly about myself and what I've been doing...I feel so narcissistic.  I figured since family members wouldn't be reading this, it would be kind of random to say, "Oh, and here is Uncle James doing Uncle James things..."  But now that I know other people are reading this who actually know everyone at this beach house (Hi Cousins!), I will be much more broadly informative.  MY BAD.

So - here are some pictures to update you on how this day is going.  Again, we wish you were all here.

Here is Michelle sunbathing with a platter of fresh strawberries that Aunt Sue brought out.  Life is rough at the beach.

 Here is Uncle Ade (he's been at this post a lot over the past two days).  Hannah and Clare are soaking up the sun too.

 Here's a quick (and crooked) shot I snapped of the beach.  The weather is PERFECT today.  Sunny and 70.

This is the most crowded the beach has been all week.  There have seriously been almost NO people here.  I don't think it's spring break in North Carolina, which is fine with me.  More beach for us!

 Here's the view of our house from the stairs going to the beach.

Here's the puzzle.  Rex and Michelle did some serious damage to this last night.

Carly and Dorothy just got back from shopping.  Here are the matching shirts they got.  Dorothy also got some gifts for Dani's kids, but I can't post them here in case Dani reads this blog (Hi Dani?).

Also, it's worth mentioning that we had a great time watching dolphins this morning.  Here's a picture I took of one of the dolphins: 

Haha!  Okay clearly I didn't actually take that picture...  but we did see dolphins!  Sometimes we just saw their fins, but we saw a few jump all the way out of the water!  It was like we had really far away seats at a Sea World show.  It was awesome.

Stay tuned for more Koopsen news. I'm sure there will be more adventures and shenanigans to report.

Koopsen Spring Break (Continued)

What have you been doing for the past few days?  I bet it's not as fun as this:

We've been having a great time on our spring break vacation in North Carolina.  I'm not sure what you're doing this week.  Maybe you're at work.  Maybe you're checking blogs because you're bored and don't have anything better to do.  Maybe you wish you were at the beach too.  No matter what your reason, I'm cordially inviting you to join our vacation.  Here are some pictures so you can feel like you're here too:

First of all, here's the website of where we're staying.  Now you can pretend that you're staying in our house!  The pictures absolutely do NOT do it justice: http://www.wardrealty.com/vacation/all/detailpage/133/oceanic

Now I'll introduce you to a few characters.  Meet Aunt Sarah: she's fun, she's zany, she's a little bit nuts (everything a good aunt should be).  She got a hair-dye-in-a-box on clearance for $3.00 and asked me to highlight her hair.  Eeeeek!  I was having flashbacks to the time I did this to my friend Julia in high school, and her hair turned out purple.  I didn't tell that story to Aunt Sarah.

Here is Aunt Sarah in her before picture.  I'm a little nervous about this:

She's checking out her glamorous self:

While Aunt Sarah and I were busy getting her beauty on, Aunt Carol, Michelle, Dorothy and Carly were busy cutting up old T-shirts to make some Pinterest creation.  I'm still not sure what it is... I will be sure to post a picture when they're finished.

Here we go, Aunt Sarah...

She has way too much faith in me.

See?  Look at that manic look on my face.  I am clearly up to no good.

Well, it didn't turn out purple...it actually turned out basically her same color.  She seemed happy with it, though, and I was just relieved that it didn't turn out crazy.

Here we are on Easter Sunday!  Meet Dorothy and Carly.  They're eleven (and twelve!  Dorothy wanted me to make sure to tell you she's actually twelve), and they're fabulous.  I told Rex that while on spring break I didn't want to see a single junior high kid (my ones at school can drive me a bit batty).  I forgot about how awesome these ones are.  I've known them since they were three.

Dorothy and I were beautifying together.

After church, we had a great day of playing on the beach, going for long walks to pick up shells, and doing general beach things.  I didn't get pictures of that because I was nervous of getting sand in my ipad.  Here we are after dinner, Snapchatting all of each other's friends.

Then we did facials, which you saw at the beginning of this post.

Rex brought his phone on a walk, and he got this awesome picture of a little pufferfish!  It was stuck on the sand after the tide went out, but Rex picked it up and put it back in the water.  What a hero.

Anyway, we are having a GREAT time.  I will take some more pictures today and upload them later so that you can continue to enjoy your vicarious beach vacation!  Wish you were here!

Koopsen Spring Break

Over the next few days, you are going to enjoy a BEHIND THE SCENES look at how the Koopsen family works.  I'm currently staying in a beach house with thirteen of the world's finest human beings - my family.  Okay, I admit, they're technically Rex's family, but I married him so therefore they're legally mine too.  Today is day two of our trip.  Yesterday we spent thirteen hours in the car getting to Aunt Carol's house in Cary, NC, and today we drove another three hours to Topsail Island and our wonderful beach house.  Here is our view from the back door:

Does life get any better than this!?  There are six bedrooms here too, so Rex and I get our own bedroom and bathroom.  WHOA!  What luxury!

So far, the trip has been very fun.

Well, mostly fun.  98% fun.  The other 2% is the FIFTEEN HOURS over the past two days that I have listened to Rex and his dad's crazy bluegrass and classic country music.  I call it caterwauling.  How many times can a guy lose his truck?  How many times can he sing praises of his dog?  How many times do I have to listen to the timeless truth that "you can't rollerskate in a buffalo herd"?  (Yes, that is an actual line from one of the songs).  It was driving me a bit insane by the end.

This morning I got to go for an awesome run in the park behind Aunt Carol's house.  It has beautiful scenery and a pristine lake.  Also, the weather was warm because we're in the South now.  That park is literally my favorite place in the country to run.  It was a great treat.

On the way to the beach house we stopped at an Orvis Outdoor Center for Rex and his dad.  I had a sneaking suspicion that the music playing in there might talk about more trucks and dogs and banjos, so I opted out and went to a Charming Charlies - my favorite accessories store (and we don't have it in Michigan!).  I tried on this crystal mask and wished I had a reason to buy it.  If you can think of a justification, please do leave it in the comments.  :-)

Once we got to the beach house, Aunt Sue and Uncle Ade started cooking dinner (it is their family's night - each family is taking a night to cook - can you believe how functional this family is?!).  They made the most amazing chicken tacos I've ever had.  While they were cooking, my cousin Clare did my hair.  With no bobby pins and no hair ties, THIS is what she came up with:

Isn't she talented?!  I can hardly believe she did that.  I told her she should charge people to do their hair for prom.

Now we're sitting in the living room watch MSU play for a spot in the NCAA championship game.  The score is 41-58 with Duke winning, so my hope in a championship is quickly fading.

I can't get too sad, though, because it's spring break and this trip is awesome!

Resident

I had an endocrinologist appointment yesterday.  I generally can't stand doctors, which is why I frequently mentally pen a blog post while in a doctor's office in order to distract myself from the unpleasant task at hand.  So here is my latest post in a saga of doctor's posts.  Maybe I'll one day publish a book called What Patients Are Really Thinking in a Doctor's Office.  It will be required reading for all med students.

Ha.  Who am I kidding?  No one else thinks like I do.  For example, yesterday I was unreasonably annoyed with my endocrinologist's resident.

It's not like he was a mean guy, really.  He was probably perfectly pleasant.  I just know that I've recently seen a barrage of facebook statuses from all of my med school friends who got placed at hospitals for their own residencies, so I estimated this dude to be about my age.  I don't trust anyone my age to work on me.  I feel like older = smarter.  Even when I had a physical therapy problem a few weeks ago, I didn't believe Rex (my PHYSICAL THERAPIST husband) about what was wrong.  Because, you know, he's 26 years old, and how much can any 26-year-old really know about anything?  (A lot, apparently - Rex was totally right about the aforementioned PT issue).

So Mr. Cool-Dude-Resident introduced himself to me, and I was pleasant but secretly thinking, "I don't like you."  I wanted to say, "I've got your number, Mr. Cool-Dude-Resident. You were the smart kid in high school.  Maybe you went to KAMSC.  You look like a ton of my classmates from there - you would have fit in just fine.  Can you solve a Rubik's cube, Mr. Cool-Dude-Resident?  I bet you can.  I bet you can solve it in under five minutes.  The kids in the Rubik's cube club at my school could solve them in under one.  Did you have fun in college, Mr. CDR?  I hope you're cool with me abbreviating your name like that.  I feel like I know you.  Anyway, I bet you studied your butt off to get into a good med school.  I know all about med schools, CDR (I'm dropping the 'Mr.' too...too formal).  I hung around a med school for three solid years watching my husband sell his soul to his professors and the dreaded board exams.  I know that you stayed up late dropping pizza grease on your textbooks and that you probably didn't shower for all of finals week.  I bet you joined your class's intramural ultimate frisbee team or something else to make you feel momentarily athletic, but you guys only played on Saturdays from 2:00-2:30 because then you had to go back to studying.  But in spite of all of your studying, you have no idea what you're doing because 90% of that stuff will never come in handy in your actual specialty.  You'll learn most of what you need to know in your actual on-the-job training.  I've gotchu, CDR.  I know what's up.  I'm your guinea pig.  This chair I'm in is a veritable petri dish.  You look good in your freshly ironed white coat and your brand new shiny stethoscope, but you don't know what you're doing.  You're probably just as scared as I was during student teaching.  So I like you, CDR.  I feel connected, but I don't feel like you can fix me."

Luckily, CDR pulled up a chair and sat in a corner while the real endocrinologist talked to me.  He (the endocrinologist) asked a slew of health questions, including standard female questions about my reproductive system and such.

Excuse me, Dr. Endocrinologist.  I don't feel comfortable discussing my lady parts with CDR over here who probably graduated the same year I did.  What if he knows some of my friends from high school?  What if my name comes up and they start discussing the regularity of my periods?

Okay...probably not going to happen.  BUT STILL.

I answered the questions while looking at Dr. Endocrineologist and tried to ignore CDR.  I noticed every once in a while he would nod enthusiastically, like, "Oh yes, I totally understand what you're saying about period regularity."

No you don't, CDR.  You don't have a drop of estrogen in your overly educated body.  Please stop nodding like a med school mascot bobblehead doll.

When Dr. Endocrinologist finished talking to me, he started typing some notes into his laptop.  CDR went and stood over his shoulder, reading what he was writing and nodding at appropriate intervals.  Note to self:  I should start nodding more often.  It gives the illusion of being intelligent.  It was kind of awkward for me to just sit there with only the sound of clicking keyboard keys to break the silence.  I mostly wrote this blog in my head while I was waiting.  Other note to self:  If you nod too often, then you just look ridiculous.

I wanted to say something like, "Are you even writing on my chart?  You're over there Googling cheat codes for the newest video game, aren't you?  Are you playing Angry Birds or something?"  What they actually wrote in my chart, I will never know.  Doctors never share that kind of stuff.  Hopefully it was something about how I'm mostly healthy and everything is going to be great.  Hopefully nothing like, "She shows a concerted aversion toward Mr. Cool-Dude-Resident.  Perhaps this is indicative of a stronger underlying psychological issue."

Nope, no issue.  I just don't like doctors.  Especially ones who could have chronologically been my date to prom.

Back to KAMSC

It's not like I woke up thinking, "I'll probably hustle out of a building carrying a bloody package today."  That wasn't originally the plan.

During the summers I work at the Kalamazoo Area Math and Science Center (KAMSC).  I also went there for high school - during the school year it's an advanced math and science school.  It's affectionately called the "Nerd Farm" because most of the kids there are stellar academics...which usually translates into nerds.  The director of the summer program offered to let me borrow a fingerprinting kit to use in my classroom crime lab next week.  She told me that I could show up before school and get the kit, which would be in her unlocked office.  No problem.

I parked my car in the lot across the street from KAMSC.  I went to the main doors and started ascending the eighty-four steps to the fourth floor.  I saw KAMSC students shuffling along on the stairs all around me, seemingly dreading their upcoming labs and lamenting the fact that they were awake at 7:30 AM.  I wanted to grab them by the shoulders and say, "It's okay guys!  It's hard work, but it's worth it at graduation!  You can make it!"  I didn't have time for encouragements.  I had to get my fingerprinting kit and still make it to my own school by the time the bell rang at 8.

I got to the top of the stairs and pushed the buzzer.  The secretaries buzzed me in, either because they recognized me or because they weren't looking closely enough to realize I was not another bedraggled student.  I started trekking down the hall to Susan's office, and as I walked by the high schoolers I was flooded with a million flashbacks.  I realized that no matter how many years go by, some things always stay the same.

There was a group of kids huddling over calculators and frantically trying to finish a lab.  One of them desperately tried to keep up with the others: "Wait, how did you get the answer to number seven?!"  I wanted to stop that kid and say, "Don't worry.  I was you once.  You're going to turn out fine.  Ten years from now, you won't give a crap about the answer to number seven."  Again, I had no time for that.  Mission: fingerprints.

There was a group of kids trying vainly to fit in with each other, not realizing that each other kid in the group was also insecure.  I wanted to tell the pimply kid not to worry - that pimples eventually go away.  I wanted to tell the kid swearing uncertainly that he didn't actually sound as cool as he was trying to sound.  I wanted to tell the kid burrowed away in a corner with a textbook that studying is good, but you have to take a second to stop and smell the chemicals (figuratively, that is).  High school is over before you can blink.  Before I could get totally immersed in my reverie, I was at Susan's door.  Her office was dark, but I stepped in anyway (I had permission, remember?).  The fingerprinting kit was on her desk, wrapped in (faux) bloody brown paper with a caution tape bow.  I smiled.  The whole thing was so very KAMSC.  I grabbed the small package and headed out of the office.  I started to head back towards the doors, but I was stopped by a teacher (one who wasn't there when I was in high school).  "Can I help you?" he asked, which everyone knows is the polite way to ask, "What the crap are you doing here?!?"  He eyed my "bloody" package, and I can only imagine what was going through his mind.  I had just walked into a dark clearly-not-my-office and come out with this suspicious parcel.  "No, thanks," I responded sweetly.  "I got what I needed."  I didn't feel the need to elaborate further, probably partially because I'm pretty sure I've clocked more hours in that building than that teacher has.  I proceeded to hustle down the hall before he could think of more questions to ask.  I didn't look over my shoulder to see his face, but I bet it was funny.

As I was on my way out, I heard two of the nerdies talking about music.  One of them said, "I've really been getting into alternative orchestra music lately."  It was then that I realized that as years go by some things stay the same, but also there can always be a new level of nerdy.  Long live KAMSC.

The Gym

Deep in the pit of winter, it can be difficult to feel like life is sunny.  After all, winter sun hardly ever shines in Michigan, and the temperature is frequently below zero.  It's dark when I leave for work in the morning, and it's dark when I get home.  No wonder it's hard to get excited about mundane day-to-day life!

The way I usually deal with stress is by running.  With the roads covered in sheets of ice and the temperature cold enough to freeze the lining of my lungs, this hasn't been an option for a while.  Rex suggested that I come to his clinic to run because he has treadmills there.  I figured this was a good idea.  Treadmills aren't as fun as running outside, but at least I could burn off a little steam and not have to pay exorbitant gym fees to do so.

Well, because it's the middle of winter and I have no motivation, I got up late and forgot to pack my gym clothes when I went to school.  I texted Rex and asked him to grab my gym clothes and bring them to work with him so that I could meet him there after school.  He said okay.  What a great guy.

After school, I drove to Rex's clinic.  I walked in and stopped by the receptionist's desk.  She said that Rex was with a patient, but that she would let him know I was there.  I headed over to the waiting room and took a seat.

I've never waited in a waiting room to see my husband before.  It made me feel kind-of unimportant, like maybe I should have made an appointment with him first.  But all I needed was my gym clothes!  They were probably sitting under his desk in a back office somewhere!  I looked around the waiting room and wondered how long I would have to wait for Rex.  I eyed the assortment of magazines and decided against reading one.  After all, I was not any old patient.  I am a WIFE of one of the therapists.  Shouldn't that make me some sort of VIP?  Is there a VIP lounge somewhere with better magazines and possibly refreshments?  Soft Asian music played in the background, and the room smelled faintly of incense.  I think I was very close to finding my inner chi or aligning my chakras or whatever.  It was all quite zen.  I wonder what that has to do with physical therapy...maybe if you're calm you feel less pain?  Personally, if I was in a lot of pain, I'd be all, "SCREW THIS ZEN MUSIC!  I AM NOT CALM!  I AM ANGRY ABOUT ALL OF THIS STUPID PAIN AND THE FACT THAT I'M WAITING SO LONG TO SEE MY THERAPIST!"  Maybe it's a good thing I'm not a patient there.

After twenty-five minutes (!!!) of waiting in the waiting room to see my husband, I finally went back up to talk to the receptionist.  After all, I was supposed to meet a friend for dinner in less than an hour, so I wasn't going to have time to work out if I couldn't start soon.  I asked when Rex was expected to be finished with his patient.  I told her that I just needed my gym clothes, and she said, "Oh, that's all?  They're probably just in his office.  Why don't you go check under his desk?"  I said that I couldn't because I felt like that was tantamount to going into the stockroom at a retail store...customers aren't supposed to do that.  She laughed at me and said, "Come on, let's go."  She took me back to his office, and sure enough: I noticed my bright blue shorts sticking out of his backpack.  "That's it!" I said excitedly.  I grabbed the bag and turned to leave, but not before noticing that the following are the only items on Rex's desk:

1. A pink lamp
2. A trophy with a banana on it
3. A hedgehog Christmas ornament

What the....?!?!  I made a mental note to ask Rex about this later and also to get him a framed picture of us so I could make sure the sexy Pilates instructor knows Rex is married.  Maybe a wedding picture.  And also a picture of me with a fake baby belly.  Just so she knows our marriage is going great and that we are not open to her wiles (because all Pilates instructors are wily.  Everyone knows that).

With my gym bag in tow, I went to the bathroom to change.  That's where I discovered that Rex had grabbed my dirty gym clothes from the hamper (EWWWW), and he had not packed me a sports bra or a hair tie.  He's a guy, so I guess I understand the oversight, but....how on earth am I supposed to run without a sports bra or a hair tie!?  I took off my pearl necklace and tried to finagle it into a device that could hold my hair back.  If anyone asked, I was going to play it off like the new cool thing: "Oh, you've never heard of gym pearls?  They're the newest craze in gym wear.  Their tagline is 'Because sweating is no excuse to look unsophisticated.'"  Unfortunately, the idea didn't really pan out.  I dug through my purse and found a rubber band tucked into a bottom corner - SCORE!  That would work.

I went out to go use the treadmills, and guess what?  They were full.  So even after all of the hassle, I still couldn't run.  I stood frozen for a minute, unsure what to do.  Ryan (a therapist I've met once or twice) came out and said, "Hey Christine, what's up?  Do you want some music on while you work out?"  I think what he really meant to say was, "Why are you standing there like a loser?"  I assured him that I was fine and that I was just about to get started on "this machine over here."  Because obviously I didn't know the name of the machine.  Because obviously they all looked like space contraptions that I didn't know how to use.

I walked up to the least intimidating machine and studied its intricate web of levers and pulleys.  Rex had showed me this one once before - I knew it was for arms.  I grabbed a handle and started pulling.  Cool!  I could do this!  I could pull the handle!  Look at me getting ripped!  After a few pulls on the handle, I decided to switch the setting.  I pulled the pin thing and tried to change the location of the pulley, but suddenly all the strings started hanging out weird and the handle fell to the ground.  "Ahhhhhh!"  I thought.  "I broke Rex's workplace!"  I immediately looked around to see if anyone had noticed me.  No one had.  Phewf.  I spotted the Pilates mats over in the corner and decided to just do some push ups and sit ups on those.  I couldn't screw that up.  I just had to hope Ms. Barbie Doll Pilates Chick wouldn't need them for a class and order me off of her mats.  Then I really wouldn't know what to do.

Luckily, I was allowed to use the mats.  I did a few push ups and sit ups, and then I decided to take a quick sixty second break.  Breaks are GOOD, you know?  You have to give your muscles a rest for a second!  You can't just move continuously for an hour!  Okay, I mean, you can, but....I didn't.  I took a QUICK, FLEETING, MILLISECOND break.  Of course Ryan picked that exact moment to come back into the gym.  He gave me a weird look, and I understand why.  The first time he walked in, I was standing and looking bewilderedly around the gym. The second time, I was lying on the Pilates mat like a kindergartner at nap time.  He probably thinks I am a total nut.  I wanted to exclaim, "I'm not crazy!  I just wanted to run on the treadmill!  It wasn't supposed to be this complicated!"

When Rex FINALLY came to see how I was doing, I told him that I couldn't use any of the machines because I didn't know how they worked, and also I was pretty sure I broke one.  He laughed and said that I didn't break the broken one, that he had made that mistake before too (Phew!).  He asked what I wanted to work on, and I said legs.  He showed me this machine that was literally a baby bouncer seat.  You're basically doing squats on a diagonal plane - you bounce up and down for a while until you feel the burn.  He told me to do two sets of twenty-five reps.  Then he went back to his office to do whatever the heck he does at his pink-lamp-banana desk.

I did two sets of twenty-five reps, but I didn't know how to do any of the other machines.  So in order to keep from looking like the gym foreigner that I am, I kept bouncing.  And bouncing.  And bouncing.

A hundred fifty reps later, my legs were like jello and I realized it was time to give up on the workout and go meet Sarah for dinner.

Maybe I'll just wait for spring in order to exercise again.

The Crow

Rex's grandma decided to skip her birthday this year.  She didn't want to get a year older, so she declared that she was skipping it.  That didn't stop us from going to visit her on the east side of the state this weekend.  We decided to call it a "Grandma Appreciation Day" visit instead of a birthday visit.

We also decided to bring a "Grandma Appreciation Day" gift because...you know...it's nice to show appreciation for your grandmother.

Also, it was her birthday.

If I gave you three guesses as to what we got Rex's grandma for her birthday, I guarantee you would not guess it.  Actually, if I gave you a hundred guesses, or even a thousand, you wouldn't have a shot.
We got her a.....

....drumroll please....

A dead crow.

Yep, you read that correctly: a DEAD CROW.  We actually had to keep it in our freezer for the week leading up to Grandma Appreciation Day or else it would start to rot.

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Now I don't want to eat anything in my freezer that cohabitated with the dead crow, but I'm too cheap to throw the food away.  If you think about it, all meat in a freezer is dead anyway.  So really it's not that gross.  Except, you know, for the fact that it totally is.

The logical question is, "Why did you get your grandmother a dead crow?"  The answer is anything but logical, and I still don't understand it.  The answer is simply this: she wanted one.

Yep.  Rex's grandma wanted a dead crow for her birthday.  She's had this thing about crows lately...she's painted them on a bunch of stuff in her house.  She and Rex's grandpa have some dead and stuffed animals in their house, but it's mostly normal stuff like deer and turkeys.  Rex's grandma decided that she'd like to add a crow to her corpse collection, but no one in the family is an avid crow hunter (because, really...that's very strange).  Anyway, Rex decided to step up and shoot a crow for his grandma, and that's exactly what he did.  We brought it to her this weekend, and she was soooo excited.

What kind of weird family did I marry into?

And am I even weirder for loving them all?