Legos...really...how hard can they be?

Have any of you checked out Lego's lately?

If you haven't, you are in for one Hell of a Treat when it comes time to purchase them for your budding Engineer/Rocket Scientist/Child that will make you look DUMB.

Cause they sure as Hell are NOT like they used to be.

I remember a plain bucket of bricks...and you just built and built and built...and knocked them down...

Now they come in Sets.  Pirate Ships.  Star Wars.  Cool stuff.

Neat...this will be really cool.

My parents would never buy them...now I completely understand why.

They hurt...and they are annoying little fuckers.

Not the kids...the Legos.

I bought a rather benign set for Kiddo for Christmas.  They were for the 3+ age bracket.  They made a firetruck/ambulance/police boat.

Cool.

How hard can this be? 

We are going to have fun BUILDING something COOL.

Yeah...you open up the box to about five bags of assorted pieces...and a diagram that only a rocket scientist or a seven year old boy can figure out.

Because this 36 year old Journalist/Medical Assistant can't do it.

I poured out the bags...

Spread out the diagram...

Turned the diagram around...

Flipped the diagram over...

Shuffled some pieces around...

Attempted to get the base of the police boat together.

Got annoyed.

Decided to just Fucking Hide It until The Husband Gets Home.

He's on his way!

No...not Santa...

That big elf dumped enough crap here that I really don't want to see him again for a while. 

I mean really...WTF was I thinking during my last shopping excursion?  Legos?  OMG...I need to slip some of these things away and hide them.  I can't take it.  Between that box of six gazillion Lego's pieces to make a freaking firetruck (along with diagram instructions) and the Finn McMissile that you can take the wings, tires, and propellers off of and redesign it (only the Kiddo can't manipulate it so I am taking the wings, tired and propellers off every ten fucking seconds for him to redesign it) I'm about to bag it all up.

But anywhooo...

The Husband...he's the one on his way!

He's already left his base and is at another 'prep' location.  I can't pronounce it.  But that's ok.

It's funny to hear a hillbilly completely butcher the Arab language...or whatever language...any language. 

But he's started Leg One.

Now I am having an Anxiety Attack about him coming home.

I remember the Craptasticness that the first Reintegration was. 

And then I am SOOO excited to see him! 

He's promised to see a Therapist...I'm already seeing a Therapist.  I love him to pieces, but I know I'll be watching him closely.  Waiting for the Piss Ass Husband to emerge.

I hope he doesn't.  I'd really like to just get The Husband back home and leave all the Craptastic Garbage overseas.

Plus I would really really like to have a second set of hands to field Kiddo.

Oh yeah...and I need an audience for the Most Awesome Welcome Home Honey outfit that I bought at Fredericks with my first paycheck.

*grin*

Long story short...well, probably not so short...

Last Tuesday I went and did this:



That's allergy testing...The big whelts are trees.  Pretty much all trees...I don't like them.  I guess my cussing of the oaks in my front yard came back and bit me in the ass. By the time my 20 minutes were up, the third line had completely run together.

The doctor was an Idiot.  The office used to be the one I took Kiddo too, but the doctor that I loved has left, this Idiot has bought it, and the Medical Assistant that took care of me felt obligated to completely unload her troubles on me as she administered 100 tests on my back.

Needless to say, I'll transfer my files elsewhere before my next visit.

Not only did I react to trees, but pretty much every food they tested me with except for the meats, oats, soy and rice.    The right side of my body apparently wasn't in the Medical Assistants field of view when she was taking the pics...so I have no photos of THOSE whelts.

But she said " How ya doin' honey....(pause pause) oh lawd (pause pause)" when she saw my back after ten minutes of me sitting there.

Idiot never saw the whelts as she cleaned me up and cortisoned me all over...then I got dressed. 

Idiot then sat there and tried to sell me mattress covers for dust mites (got those), HEPA filtration systems (check) and told me to reduce the carpeting in my house (already did).

I was more concerned about the damned food allergies than the fucking dust mites...thanks.

He didn't seem concerned, but Idiot proceeded to just tell me about allergy shots, didn't order blood work, and by the way, he said that I should carry an Epi-Pen.

What the Fuck dude?

You aren't concerned?  But I should carry an Epi-Pen?

Make sense to anyone else?

Oh yeah, and to just keep eating as normal.  If it bothered me, stop eating it.

I guess like the night that black beans in my burrito put me in the emergency room with swollen face and throat.

Holy Shit Batman...

I should have charged HIM for the visit.

I went to my new job and showed my doctor the pic.

She was very concerned about how I was feeling.

I was feeling fine...but my left shoulder...I wanted to find a big scratching post and just rub all over it.

The Husband's reaction... "Holy SHIT!"

Uh huh.

Took two days for the whelts to go down.  That's a pic from Thursday.

Then we get to the Pharmacy part of the story.

My inlaws are in town...we've been out to dinner.  Might as well go pick up the slew of prescriptions that Idiot called in for me.  I agreed with the majority of them, and knew it would cost me a pretty penny.  If the inhalers and pills kept me from having six weeks of bronchitis again for a while, I'll cope.

Got to the window.  Miss Judy was my clerk.  She's so nice.

We chatted.

She told me that my total was...and she grimaced.... $220.34. 

I blinked, but I wasn't really shocked.  Epi-Pens are not cheap...neither are most inhalers.

I thought my Mother In Law was going to crap her britches.

She sputtered and stuttered like a Volkswagon on a cold morning.

This woman buys ALL of her medications at the Dollar Store.

Or bums samples from her doctor.

So I handed Miss Judy my debit card.  Might as well.

Miss Judy runs it...

Then whispers "Do you have another card?"

My heart sank...'What?'

"Do you have another card sweetie, this one was declined"

Of course the Inlaws are hearing every word...so I fell totally incompetent.

I just smile and say "Uhm...yeah...that's weird"

And it was weird.  I was feeling really weird.  And my blood pressure was sorta up.

So I pass through our credit card and pray to all things holy, in my head, that it went through.

It did.

At the same time I am frantically checking my bank account online.

Thank you App.

I have money.

Lots of money, considering I haven't done the transfers yet to the bills and so forth.

It's nice when The Husband is deployed.  The numbers are pretty.

But back to the story... I inform Miss Judy "There's money in the account...probably a fraud alert"  And smile.

She's probably heard that before.

She smiled back.

My Mother In Law is digging in her purse...I guess thinking I need money.

I hand her my bags of medicines and we proceed to pull out.

She's counting the co pays and trying to add them all up...all the while exclaiming because I spent so much.

Hell lady...you ain't seen nothing until you drop $80 on a box of Pulmicort that lasts a week..and $45 on a little bottle of ear drops that last a few days...thank goodness I have insurance...oh thank goodness.

We get home, I log in to the bank account...all the while playing it cool.

No alerts.

I call the hotline...and wait and wait ...oh yeah, and wait.

All the while, Kiddo is revving up all the stinking remote controlled toys they bought as loudly as he can.

And Father in Law keeps asking if I am upset. 

"No...I'm fine...just really curious as to what is going on"  But in my head, I want to scream "Of course I am upset fuckstick...I just got DECLINED at my local pharmacy by Miss Judy!"

Finally the bank answers...and guess what...they flagged my $220 transaction as fraud since I have never spent that much money at Walgreens.

I pause.

And tell the lady..."I was getting my prescriptions at the drive thru"

She tells me that if I had ran it as debit it would have went through.

Yeah...they don't give you that CODE in the HANDBOOK when you get DECLINED at the DRIVE THRU by MISS JUDY.

But I do appreciate their security.

At the same time, I know Miss Judy and the girls chatted when I left.

Damnit.

I need a breathing treatment now.

Last day

Today is my last day of my self made unemployment.

I've enjoyed my few months of being a part time stay at home mom.

I've really enjoyed being able to get a few errands done, eat lunch, study and THEN go pick up Kiddo at Preschool.

I haven't cleaned out the closets like I said I would.

The cabinet under my kitchen counter is still a disaster.

But I did build two cabinets for the laundry room. 

And have maintained some sense of sanity.

The Husband and I had planned some days 'alone' when he came home during my off time...but that's not going to happen now.

But it is time to go back to work.

Yes...it is.

Grab that brass ring and paycheck while it is there!

Considering the fact that I blew $200 on new uniforms on Monday, bought more Christmas presents for Kiddo, and I am getting a little too relaxed with my studying ( I am still straight A's...just not busting my tail quite so hard anymore).

I need to mix it up a little.

Today, I spent the better part of the morning shoveling (yes, I said shoveling) fucking LEAVES.

The new $20 leaf rake I bought today has a scooped inside that acts as a shovel when you flip it over.

It's awesome.  If you like that in a leaf rake.

Apparently I do.  I was excited.

Dude at Lowe's thought I had lost my mind.  He just walked away.

BUT.

I hate Leaves.

I despise LEAVES.

Fuckers...all of them.

I can almost hear the trees laughing as I scoop, and rake, and blow, and scoop, and drag that damned tarp to the back yard...

Bitches...I have a chainsaw.  I'll take all of you out.

I took pics to show The Husband my progress.  He gave me the 'I wish I was there to help you' line...my reply was 'If you were here, they'd be done and you'd be bitching louder than me.'  He didn't reply.

Then I sat down and dined on leftover fantabulous Italian from last night, watched The Green Lantern in uninterrupted bliss...and then figured it was time to pick up Kiddo and call my period of  Unemployment...DONE.

*sigh*

I have loved it so.  I feel like my brain is fairly straight now.  I can THINK sometimes. 

But I have also discovered that I hate the sound of Hot Wheels cars hitting the wood floor.  I bought a huge area rug and he always manages to land them right off the edge of it.

Makes me cringe...

About like the sound of a leaf blower.

The Santa Sads....

We've been going to the same Most Awesome, Splenderific, Fantabulous Santa since Kiddo was four months old.

I was online checking Santa's schedule yesterday, and couldn't find it on That Mall's website.

Ohhhhhh Kay.

So, I worded my Google search differently.

I reworded it.

I reworded it again...

I just kept getting LAST year's schedule.

WTF?!

Ok...Facebook...I'll try Facebook.

And on Facebook I found the reason.

Our Wonderful Santa was not being hosted by That Mall this year because they are doing some sort of reconstruction, but made space for some huge ass Winter Festival mess.

No Santa by the way...but a special digital photo booth where Santa magically appears in your pics.  They are going to upload your pics to Facebook and let you download them.

Uhm No.

Yeah...that's the sort of Holiday Magic I want.

Fuck that.

Wonderful Santa has been at That Mall for YEARS....so I posted a question as to where he might be.

Someone privately messaged me and let me know that Wonderful Santa would not be appearing at all this year and that he was very disappointed in how things went with The Mall this year.  She had gotten his name and number last year and was able to call up his Elf and talk to her.

So I sent a scathing You Bunch of Grinches email to The Mall's management and let them know how ridiculous this whole thing was.

And I am super sad because we are missing Kiddo's fifth picture with Wonderful Santa...Probably no magic tricks from a New Santa. 

Shit...I have to find a New Santa.

Crap...I hate that.

I'm not a fan of finding a New Santa...because I freaking loved Wonderful Santa and this sucks eggs.

Big rotten donkey eggs.

I've got the Sads....big time.

Bah Humbug.

You know...because IT is ALL about me and my Special Snowflake. 

*smirk*

I'm going shopping!

Yes...folks...I am going to break out of my hard-core-won't-let-me-have-fun- budget and go shopping.

Wanna know why?

I'll tell you why!

I GOT THE JOB!

Whoot Whoot!

Go me!

I'm so very excited...I can breathe a sigh of relief that we won't be destitute (being dramatic) when The Husband gets home and we are a single income family again.

The Doctor is super nice and seems to be very reasonable about taking time off on occasion because I will need to get things done.

Plus, she was more than understanding about me wanting to take time off when The Husband gets home.

I'm stoked.

Super dooper stoked.

So instead of studying for the EKG chapter test tomorrow, I've been browsing uniform websites for my new fancy dancy uniforms that I will get to wear to work rather than my school greens.

Hooray!

The Call

My phone started buzzing in the middle of Class today.

Right after the Instructor gave us a lecture on Lab Safety.

This is right after Quirky (who is back by the way) managed to prick herself with a venipuncture needle for the second time in two days.

The Instructor has banned her from The Lab for a week for her to go through more instruction before being allowed near needles again.

But that is a whole other story.

Anywhoo...

Back to my story.

The cell phone started buzzing.

I checked to make sure it wasn't Preschool.

It wasn't.

It wasn't even a number I recognized.

So I let it go to Voice Mail...

When I checked it...It was a Doctor.

One that I had sent a resume to over the summer when I was desperately seeking a career change before classes started.

She wants to speak with me about working part time and handling some clerical work in her office.

Holy Shit Batman!

Hell yeah!

I mean...I love having all this spare time.

IF get this job, I will be able to keep my Housekeeper.

Oh please please please.

I called back after classes were done and she and I chatted.

One...she's wanting me to do menial work.

I can handle that.

Two...she's wanting to pay me literally TWICE what I was expecting.

Oh hell yes!

Three...she's very concerned that I am not going to be interested.

I'm sorry...where did you miss the OH HELL YES!??

Four...she's willing to work around my school hours and my childcare issues.

Oh FUCK YES!

So I texted my Old Boss to give her a heads up that she may have a reference check coming.

Old Boss replied.

Reference check has already been done.

O.M.G!

Old Boss gave glowing recommendation and then gave me some insight into what Doctor wants. 

I'm so excited for this interview...but I also haven't interviewed in YEARS!

I tend to talk too much...I know...shocking as hell huh?

But I've learned to be Super Quiet in class...so I'll just use that tactic.

Yeah...I'll be quiet...Super Quiet.

And draw my little part time paycheck...AND keep my Housekeeper!

Whoot!

Holding it in...

Kiddo has decided to not Poop at School.

Ain't happening.

He isn't gonna.

He's gonna hold it until he gets home.

Come Hell or High Water...

Why???

Because he hasn't mastered the art of Butt Wiping.

He's four...some of the finer mechanical hygenic duties are not quite perfected.

So every day...as soon as we get home...he has to go Poop.

Right now...

I've got a Home Only Pooper on my hands.

This has presented a small problem...he's had 'slips' at school...otherwise known as Sharts...and he's had to change clothes.

I've explained, "Please Poop At School...the Teachers will help you"

He's replied "But I don't know how to wipe my butt.  I am the only boy that doesn't know how to wipe his butt"

Now, as to whether this is true or not...I have no idea.

I'm not sure if they are hanging out around the Legos discussing their ability to Wipe Their Own Butt or not.

I've met some of the boys in his class...my bet is that he is not the only Non Wiper.

So for two weeks we have worked hard on Butt Wiping.

I even bribed him with a new train.

Again...bribery gives him a reason to focus.

And we have FOCUSED hard on this task.

After showing him the finer points of getting the perfect wad of toilet paper...

To the trick of 'getting in there' to get everything clean...

Also...the checking of the TP to make sure you don't need to 'get in there again'...

I think we have achieved Beginner Butt Wiper Status.

He is still refusing to Poop at School.

Even though he can Wipe His Own Butt now...

Really...

He's stubborn like that.

Awesome.

Dear Lawn Contractor Leaf Remover Dudes

Never freaking mind you bunch of lazy jerk faces.

I mean it.

I've called no less than seven Lawn Service companies.

I have a problem.

I have half an acre of heavy coverage oak leaves. 

With more of those fuckers falling.

Not just a quick  Clean Out My Flower Beds kind of job.

I have a Bring Your Big Ass Equipment Cause This is Gonna Take a While job.

And no one apparently wants to make a couple of hundred dollars.

Oh fucking well.

One company...after they advertised in our local newspaper, informed me I was five miles out of his radius and he would have to charge me a service fee.  This is before Dumbass bothered to do a drive by estimate.  Uhm...I think he would have waived his service fee after he saw it. 

Honestly...I win in the neighborhood for leaf coverage.  If there was a contest...I'd win.  I've never seen so many leaves...but I do love that shade in the summer.

Two companies...well, let's say this...if you have your PHONE NUMBER listed on your WEBSITE...then FUCKING ANSWER it with your company name other than 'Yeah!'   You didn't show up either...and I don't think one of you was writing anything down.

The other four...I left you messages DAYS ago.  Never heard back. 

NEVER FUCKING MIND.

I had this same problem with finding a Housekeeper. 

I also had the same problem with locating a contractor to asphalt my 85 foot long driveway.  

Then there was the tree removal a few years ago. 

Shit people.

I'll figure it out on my own.  I've taken care of it before...I can handle it again. 

Hell, I'll rent the zero turn mower chopper shredder mulcher thing that we rented last year and just do it my own DAMN self.

As Pretty Woman once said 'Big Mistake. BIG Mistake'

So proud

Each year, The Husband and I really enjoy buying gifts for Toys for Tots. 

When I was working, The Coworkers all agreed to bring in a present for Toys for Tots rather than buying mugs for each other...again.  It worked wonderfully!

Even SIL (Sister In Law) and her Husband have gotten in on the act, much to The Mother In Law's disappointment.  SIL and I do not buy gifts for each other...just a little something for the kids.  Mother In Law wants us to OPEN PRESENTS.  She cannot stand that we do not buy for each other.

I'm sorry...the last thing I need is another set of towels...and SIL agrees.

So we just ignore Mother In Law.

Last year she tried to undermine and told me that SIL was buying us something and told SIL that we were buying something. 

Funny...SIL and I talk on a weekly basis.  We figured the trick out fairly quickly.

But back to the story...

This year, since The Husband is currently unavailable...Kiddo and I went shopping.

Now...here's the trick.

Try to explain to a Four Year Old Kiddo that Santa cannot bring all the toys that a child asks for.  That Mommies and Daddies sometimes would like to buy their Kiddos presents, but have no money.

I'm not sure how much of my explanation sunk in, but we decided to hit Toys R Us tonight after I picked him up from Preschool.

At first, he wanted to buy something for himself.

I will admit, I had to relent.  He DID take his Augmentin without a fit, so he got a small Thomas train to add to his collection.

Once I was able to refocus him, we were off!

First he picked out a Thomas Take Along set with the barn.

Then he decided skateboards were cool.  He picked out a Tinkerbell skateboard and a HotWheels skateboard. 

Over to the HotWheels sets he went...he decided on a Hot Wheels Shark Jump set...because Sharks were scary...and cool.

When we hit the girls section...my child decided that 'all the pink is making me cough'.

Yes...he said that...

Over and over.

'There's a lot of princess stuff mom.  The pink is making me cough'

'I don't like pink mom.  It's for girls.  It's making me cough'

I thought one fellow shopper was going to wet herself to keep from laughing hysterically.

But he did end up picking out an ultra cool electic guitar and piano...Buy One Get One Half Off!

I added everything up...and we were over $100 slightly.

I had a $10 coupon...

At the register, the clerk listened nicely as Kiddo exclaimed 'we bought presents for other boys and girls!' as he then proceeded to list them...

I don't think she believed me when I told her to leave them unbagged, I was dropping them all in the bin.

Checked out...pushed the buggy to the bin to do our drop off...

And as Kiddo and I were starting to unload and lift the items up and over...

"Mom!  I have to go Potty!  Now Mom!" as he starts the pee dance...crotch grabbing and all. 

I envisioned him puddling in the floor...Oh. Gawd. No.

I quickly hoist the rest of the presents into the bin...hoist him into the buggy and made a mad dash for the restrooms at the back of the store.

We made it in time.

Yay!

Reminder...pick up an extra toy during the Holidays and drop them in the Toys for Tots bin.  Make some child's Christmas morning a little brighter this year!

All the way in the back...

I ran into a fellow military spouse at the Commissary a few weeks ago.

Shocking I know...you NEVER run into military people at the Commissary...

We literally stood in the salad dressing aisle for nearly an hour...talking.

We look a lot alike...our kids are similar in 'illness disposition'....she's going to school to get her RN. 

We just hit it off.

She invited me to a Veteran's Day BBQ in her neighborhood.

I've been back and forth...

One...most Active Duty members have an 'eyeroll' mentality when it comes to National Guard.  Not all of them...just a lot that I have run into.

Two...I knew one person going, and I barely knew her.

Three...I knew one person going, and I barely knew her.

So I decided...What the hell?  If they were all crazy, then we would just leave.  If they were nice, Kiddo and I would have an evening out.

I made three dozen pepperoni rolls...

Dressed Kiddo in some layers since it was chilly as sin this evening.

We headed over.

The base is about twenty minutes from where I live.

I had the address...the GPS loaded it right up.

When I get to where the GPS gives you the little checkered flag...I was at ...NOTHING.

Middle of the road...literally.

Crap.

Turn around.

Circle back through the housing.

No streets with that name...I reload the address.

Back to the checkered flag in the middle of the road.

Shit.

I have three dozen pepperoni rolls to share.  I have a kid that is totally expecting a fun block party.

SHIT.

I drive to the main gate. 

Thankfully...this being a Holiday Weekend...there was no traffic.

So I ask the Gate Guard...where is this street?!

He looks at me funny as I explain I do not live on Base...I've never been to the house...my GPS was taking me to the middle of the road...

He gets out his map...and has me pull to the side.

And I wait.

And I consider offering him some pepperoni rolls...

And I wait some more...pretty sure he was running my license plate, or my ID...or whatever...

He finally comes back and explains since it is brand new housing...it won't show up...so I have to 'go all the way to the back of the new housing to the circle'.

I nod...and desperately try to look like I know what the hell he is talking about.  
Because I don't.

I go to the Commissary and the PX...sometimes Clothing and Sales...but I have only been in the housing area twice...and not this section...ever.

Shit.

He permits me a U-turn...and away I go...desperately trying to figure out where I am going...and kicking myself for no longer being overly OCD about directions and phone numbers.  I didn't have her number...only her Facebook...which apparently she doesn't check very often...

And we drive...and we drive...

Kiddo starts lamenting that we are lost and will never go home again...

I bribe him with a pepperoni roll.

He chews as I nod and duck and read signs...and keep driving.

Guess what...it WAS literally all the way in the back...at the end of the road...in a circle...with barricades and everything...and NOWHERE close to where the GPS kept putting me.

Haha!

We were warmly welcomed and had a great time.

Kiddo had a blast...and rode a tricycle up and down and up and down and up and down and up and down and up and down the street all evening.

We have a tricycle...he never rides it.

Let's think about it a little more...shall we?

Tattoos...

I have two.

You can't see them...and you never will.

I also have multiple piercings...one of which you WILL NEVER see...and is my own little secret.

But I just want to throw this out there to my Fellow Students and Future Competition in the Work Force:

PLEASE think about those jacked up ink monstrosities before you draw all over yourself.

PLEASE.

You are having to come to class encased in little bandaids and adhesive wrap to cover them. 

On the side of your neck...

Your hands...

Your arms...

Your writsts...

Your fingers...

Back of your neck...

Behind your ears...

Shit people....

Oh come on!

When did that seem like a good fucking idea?

Have you LOOKED at other people that you are going to work for?  What doctor's office have you been in that has a receptionist sporting an eyebrow piercing, a dermal stud and about five visible swirly tattoos...

Every been triaged by someone with four colors of hair and if you squeezed her hand you could write with the ink dripping out?

I am betting...out on a limb here...ZERO.

Really?

And stop getting pissed at the Instructor when she asks you to cover them up.

Holy hell people...you are going to have to figure it out sooner or later. 

Employers in the field we are in, are not going to be amused by you.

At all.

Ever.

Vent over...

Oh yeah...and stop telling me your Associate's Degree in Medical Assisting is better than my Bachelor's Degree.

Educate yourself on what it means.

I have the SAME CORE classes you have...I've already had English, Math, Social Sciences, Speech, Natural Science, Biology and Psychology.  I also have my degree classes. 

I am simply getting an extra skill diploma.  An Associates ON TOP of a Bachelor's is a waste of $10,000 in my humble opinion.  We are both going to get paid $9 an hour...no matter what.

It's not the degree sweetie...its the skill...and the professionalism.

Knock it off.

I've discovered

Some things I have discovered during this Deployment:

1) I can go for days without grieving and crying this time around.  Actually...I went nearly five months without crying.  I was proud of myself.  Of course I had to cry while Skyping The Husband.  But in my defense I was having a Super Shitty Day.  I'm not sure if he noticed with the massive pixelation and Shit Ass connection, but I've held up my own rather well.  Going to a Therapist on a regular basis has helped BIG TIME. 

2)  Kiddo is rather resiliant.  He's done awesome during this Deployment.  He's such a good little guy.  Even though he still pees on the floor in front of the toilet daily.

3)  Government Benefit helplines are rather hit or miss on How Helpful they may or may not be.  I just want to check my GI Bill Benefits for my classes.  One person is very helpful, then the next person is a total dork wanting to clock out. 

4)  Hire a Professional Lawn Service next time.  The Neighbor Kid has gotten on my last bloody nerve with his 'lawn care'.  If he'd quite riding his truck up and down the road to his girlfriends house every five seconds, maybe he can knock out mowing my yard!  I came home today and decided to do the Last Mow of the Year on my own before I picked Kiddo up from Preschool.   Didn't take long.  And it saved me $25.    I'll also just handle my own leaves Thank You Very Much.  It'll take forever and by the end I will swear we are living in the middle of an open field with our next house...but then I'll love the shade during the summer and swear we will never live anywhere other than in the woods.  I can't make up my own mind.

5)  No matter how much you flavor Augmentin, there is no way in hell Kiddo is going to take it without a Thomas the Train bribe.  I'll be buying a new train sometime next week when he finishes this bottle of Augmentin for the sinus infection he is sporting.  After he spit it out all over me, him and the couch where I had him cornered this morning, I caved and started the Bribe.  It worked this evening.  It went down and stayed down.  Heaven help me at 630a tomorrow.

6) I am sooo going to miss my Housekeeping Service Lady.  I love her.  I love how neat my house stays for days after she comes.  I love how I haven't had to scrub the tub in weeks.  I love how the beds are magically made and look so pretty when I get home.  I am desperately trying to figure out how to keep her in my budget.  I just don't think I am going to be able to.

7) Quirky quit.  I knew she was going to.  It was a matter of time.  She texted me and said she would be back next module.  I am thinking she will not.  I will say, things have been much better since she left.  I don't feel like I am constantly brushing off a clingy squirrel all of the time.  I know that sounds terrible but she was such a difficult person to deal with.    I can concentrate and have interactions with other students without having the urge to apologize for her behavior.

8)  Dino Dan is a really strange show.  Really really strange.  Like this kid needs help kind of strange.

9) I'm 'in like' with Twist on The Fresh Beat Band.  He's ADORABLE.

10) I'm slightly sick of Nick Jr but there are no commercials or promos that I have to explain.

11)  Life is good.

Really...is it that hard...???

At the beginning of the preschool year, I attended the Very Important Orientation at Kiddo's Preschool.

I sat in a little ass chair in a crowded ass room and listened patiently to the Director and Teacher and whomever else talk about the fun and exciting things they were going to do this year.

I had high hopes.

This was going to work...because as I mentioned before, our previous Daycare/Preschool freaking ROCKED!

During this half hour long spiel, the Director was very adamant about The Folder.

Each child would have The Folder in their Cubby, and this would communicate what was going on each week, contain their art work, notes from the Teacher, etc...check The Folder.

The Folder must be checked every day.

The Folder would be your main line of communication.

I guess I missed the part about how to get shit to appear in The Folder.

Because our Folder is fucking broken.

I'm tired of checking it, only to have NOTHING in it.

I've emailed the Director...she says "oh, its in your Cubby!"

Well, it fucking magically appeared after I emailed you because it was empty this morning.

Damn....I'm not dumb...nor am I blind.

 The Folder is EMPTY.

Every day.

I am missing notes on upcoming activities (mind you, I am getting the freaking notes that need money for said activity).

Half the time I don't know what the Show and Tell theme is for the week. 

I THINK we are on Letter H this week, but I could be really wrong.  Kiddo won't tell me what he did that day, much less what the theme is supposed to be.

I had to email her and ask if they were having a Halloween Party.  Apparently we had been assigned Juice Boxes.  Glad I freaking asked...I had no idea.

Again...nothing is in The Folder.

I've double checked...he is the ONLY Kiddo in the class.  So no name screw ups.

There is only ONE Cubby...so I am not looking for a mysterious Folder Only Cubby.

I've crawled around in the floor and checked IN his Cubby, beside his cubby, on top of his Cubby...even other kids Cubbys.

Nothing.  Nada.  Zip.  EMPTY.

I'm just getting the shaft on this Folder shit.

I think a lot of it has to do with the fact that my child is Extended Day...and I don't have the luxury of the three hour drop off and then face time with The Teacher everyday at pick up...I am picking him up after nap and after the Teacher has run for the parking lot.

So tomorrow morning, I am going to once again ask...where am I supposed to be checking The Folder? 

Or better yet, can I have a New Folder?

Because ours is fucking broken.

Don't Forget Your Candy Corn!

Kiddo is currently obsessed with Candy Corn.

Personally, I think it is the awfullest, yuckiest, grossest, blechiest candy on the planet.

HE. LOVES. IT.

So when we went shopping for Halloween candy, I discovered that Target has the big bag of individual packs of Candy Corn.

He carried the bag with him through the store.

He stayed out of it until Halloween night.

And then the party started.

We dumped our candy into the big tub...ran and Trick or Treated a few close houses.

We get probably 100 Trick or Treaters in a good year, and I was expecting at least fifty due to the rain.  It was POURING, but I knew the die hards would be out in force.

630p our first Trick or Treaters rang the bell.  The Little Pirate and the Big Pirate (me in case you were confused) handed over fist fulls of candy.

Little Pirate got a LOT of compliments as he forked over the goods.

"Don't forget your candy corn!" yelled Kiddo...holding out a big handful of Candy Corn to the unsuspecting group of kids.

Somewhere...there were children getting home wondering where in the hell they accumulated so much Candy Corn.

I know I would be sad.

Then he ate a pack.

More Trick or Treaters, more little fist fulls of Candy Corn in their buckets.

Then he ate another pack...

Lather...rinse...repeat.

To be clear, I was happily handing out the suckers, Twizzlers, mini candy bars, and fruit snack packs.

We were not totally awful people.

He ate probably six packs...we'd handed out a ton, but there still seemed to be more in the tub.

The stuff was multiplying like a fiendish bacteria! 

I wanted it out of the house! 

Please take more Candy Corn...here Kiddo give out the Candy Corn...do you want Candy Corn?

Kiddo...come hand out Candy Corn!

But Little Pirate was done...sitting in the living room floor...sippy cup in one hand, stroking his lock of hair with the other and watching Nick Jr.

And I swear, the whole bag of freaking Candy Corn is still in the tub...

Dance Moms

Kiddo has been enrolled in a Preschooler Gymnastics program at a local dance studio as part of OurMilitaryKids.com.  They give grants to children of deployed soldiers to enjoy an extracurricular activity during the deployment. 

He didn't qualify for the county soccer league because his birthdate was two weeks later than their deadline.

There was NO WAY he was going to cooperate with swimming lessons.  He's too young for Karate.

He LOVED his gymnastics class at his old daycare last year...why not?!

Basically we go once a week, and for half an hour, he bounces around the room like a maniac, sometimes listening to the instructor, and is chased by the girls in the class.

He is the only dose of testesterone in the room.

In my area, the boys are in Karate, or playing video games.

They are not in Gymnastics.

He can't focus long enough to be in Karate...we would be asked to leave.

The first week was a nightmare.  I wanted to crawl under a desk and hide.  He acted like he had never been out of the house...it was awwwwful. 

He was rolling around in the floor. 

Crawling up the mirrors and licking them.

Running around like he was on fire.

I was so 'shamed.

I threatened 'NO TV EVER AGAIN' on the drive home.

Then we developed a sticker reward system that has helped him focus.

Over the past few weeks, he's improved his listening skills, is cooperating,  and is having a good time.

Which is my goal.

I KNOW I do not have Bruce Jenner here...believe me. 

However, the other Dance Moms think they have the next Mary Lou Retton.

Or whatever you call a top notch ballerina...Prima Ballerina I think???

Give me a break.

Its an itty bitty dance studio in itty bitty Central Virginia.

The place is in strip mall.

Your kid is FOUR.

You talk about selling plasma to pay for Jazz, Tap, Ballet and Gymnastics.

(Yes, she did and Yes, she was serious)

If your child is not excelling, you blame the instructor and talk crap about her in the waiting room.

You buy all the little cheapo dance bags, and handmade frilly tutus, and stuuuuffff that they have laying out there to buy.

It's like being in an episode of Toddlers and Tiaras.

I am soooo not in that clique.

I carry in my book and Iphone, I sit in the corner, listen for Kiddo to yell that he has to pee (the toilet is too high and he will pee in the floor everytime if I don't help him)...and just ignore these ladies.

I tried for the first three weeks to engage and make friends. 

Week One...We talked about babies, and toddlers.  About work and school.  About how preschoolers are just little cute spawns.

Week Two, started out normal and then I just listened to the bitching, moaning, complaining and whining, and wondered what I was doing there. 

Week Three, I took a book and half attempted to carry on a conversation.

Week Four, they all exchanged phone numbers and emails...I didn't even get acknowledged.

I quickly realized that I was an outsider and I just didn't 'get it'.

And I am perfectly fine with that.

Come on...for heaven's sake.

If you can't pay your bills (which you just told ALL of us), your kid does not need to be in these classes!

You don't have grocery or gas money? 

Holy crap....really???

But you just bought a $16 homemade tutu.

And new dance shoes....for a four year old...for Jazz class. 

Yes, I am being judgmental, but hell lady, you threw it out there for all of us to chew on. 

I'm sitting there trying really hard not to roll my eyes and knock my head against the wall behind me.

As long as Kiddo is having fun, no longer crawling around in the floor and licking the mirrors in the class, I'll just continue to show up and sit in the corner.

I'm taking headphones next week.

Bad mom

I've got bronchitis.

I've had freaking bronchitis for eighteen months, three days, nine hours and sixteen minutes.

Well....not really, but it sure as hell feels like it.

I'm tired of coughing, but at least I don't feel like I have been hit by a truck anymore.

I sound more emphysema-ish right now, and not like my lung is going to hurl itself out on the table.

Last week, I could barely hold my head up in class...but I was there.  Taking notes, taking tests...keeping up with the ballgame.

I can't say that many of my classmates have my drive. 

I'd kick my own tail if I was as lame as some of them are.  Not all of them...but there are a few that if I go to a doctor's office and they are there to attend me...I'll be asking for someone else.

One student came in with the excuse that the orange drink from the glucose test at her OB made her ill.  But then in the next sentence she was talking about going to the pumpkin patch and then putting $900 (yes, $900) worth of toys for her daughter on layaway at Wal Mart. 

If your happy ass can withstand the pumpkin patch AND WalMart in one day...I think you could make it to class.

Another...well, she had forgotten that she had class on Monday.  How the eff do you FORGET you have class.  We have it EVERY stinking Monday.

And no...you can't borrow my notes.  They are written in shorthand (they really are for this express purpose...learned that valuable lesson in college when an entire notebook of notes failed to reappear).  People won't bother to use your notes once they realize they can't read the language.

I'm evil.

Plus I coughed on them.

But back to my bronchitis...

I made it through class and then headed the hell home...where I laid down on the couch for four blessed hours and died a coughing hacking phlegmy death...

Then I got back up, got in the car, and went to pick up Kiddo.

This went on all week.

By Friday, I was feeling semi-human, so I dropped him at preschool...did a quick run to the grocery store, then home...to die on the couch for a few hours.  I did vacuum the house and fold some laundry, but otherwise, my happy coughing ass was on the couch again.

Even though I was stupid sick with the plague of plagues, I felt guilty for leaving him in the care of his preschool and not picking him up early nor keeping him home with me.

One...I needed to rest.  You can't rest with a four year old.  It is in their DNA to aggravate the holy sin out of you whether you feel well or not.  They know.  They can smell it.

Two...I didn't want him to catch it.  I was already taking every precaution known to man to keep him well...and keeping him as far away from me for as long as possible...in my mind...was shielding him.

Three...I wanted to die...for a few hours.  Really...am I all that bad?

Nope...I am not. 

Why?  Because even my mom...who NEVER left me with anyone...told me to do it.

If my mom thinks it is ok...then it is sealed with approval.

This is the woman that hated the fact that I had to drive with him in the back seat for an hour commute each day because he might get upset.

I'm ok.

Distractions...

I had my journey to Maine.

It was nice...and gorgeous...and it was so much fun seeing my BFF.

Now I have the most raging case of bronchitis that I have had in many many years.  Illness usually does not kick me in the teeth...but this one has.

So every day this week..after class...I head home...and die on the couch for a few hours before I go pick up Kiddo from preschool.

Today, I am feeling semi close to normal.  I got home...vacummed the downstairs, put a pot of spaghetti sauce on...then sat down on the couch to cough for a while.

I got sucked into watching part of The Appalachians series on PBS.

By the end of the hour, I just wanted to pack my suitcase and go home to West Virginia.

I'm convinced..there just isn't anywhere else on Earth that calls to someone from that region quite like those Mountains call us home.

Most Hillbillies will tell you how there is literally no place like home.  Each holler feels familiar and welcoming.  I know the rivers and the streams.  The foliage...the fog in the bottoms...the smell after rain.  How the hillsides look with snow.  How to glide the curves in the roads... The music speaks to your blood.  The rhythm of the accent is...it just is.

I have been nowhere that makes me feel like taking my shoes off, rooting my toes in the soil...breathing in deeply and just letting Her envelope me.

But alas, there are very few opportunities there. 

The jobs are gone, the education system is struggling.  The economy was bad to begin with, but it isn't any better...especially now.

We left ten years ago...and just cannot justify returning. 

But that doesn't mean there isn't a longing desire to go home...and visits are never long enough.

To breathe it all in...and feel the thrum of the soil.  I can't explain it with words...but its so familiar and so HOME.

And I want to go HOME.

Running away from home...

Muhahahaha!

I am running away from home!

Whoot!

Wheee!

My suitcase is packed.

I have non animated sitcoms on my own freaking Iphone to watch on the plane.

I have a book that DOES NOT have pictures...nor does it freaking rhyme.

I'm going NORTH...I am running way North...

To Maine...that kind of North...far North.

And I am so freaking excited....

But I am also a little freaked out about leaving Kiddo.

He'll be in the very capable hands of my parents.

My mother is guarandamnteed to be farther up his ass than I am.

My father will play with him non stop.

The dog is going to be thrilled because he will be let out a lot more.

And I have left money for them to eat out at all the favorites.

But of course there is always that damned responsible bone in me...

I had to do the Medical Power of Attorney form and Medical Authorization Form.

I had to leave the list of Emergency numbers.

Then there was the email to the Family Readiness Group leader letting her know she was in charge of calling the Red Cross if I there was a need.

I'm stressing just a little.

But I am going to have a blast...

Whoooo hoooo!

And another year down...

I've been mooshed.

Squished.

Mashed.

Poked.

Prodded.

Sonogrammed....

And I got a free tote bag!

The Fibroid is still there. 

Of course.

The Cyst from this summer is a teeny tiny little round thing.

But as I informed the tech, the radiologist, the tech and another radiologist..."THAT hurts like a mother". 

I did not add Fucker...but I wanted to.

Apparently it is in tissue that is affected by hormones, therefore the swelling, retreating, swelling, retreating.

I have been cleared for another year...so off to TGI Friday's to meet a fellow deployed solider spouse (her Hubby and The Husband are working together) and I had the Biggest Most Caffeinated Sweet Iced Tea I could have.  Two glasses. 

It was good.

Now to take the Kiddo to finish off his MMR shot and his Flu Shot.

I'll officially have peed in his Cheerios.

Mashing tomorrow!

Oh goodie!

I get to go for my annual Mammary Mashing tomorrow!  Won't you ladies join me! 

I promise fun awkward moments...especially when the tech tells you not to move as she has your breast in a vice while you are standing on your tip toes getting overly friendly with a machine that is not getting friendly back.

But it is necessary my friends.

These stinking fibroids...hmmph. 

I've been good and have been sticking to my one caffeinated beverage a day policy.  I was not amused today when I went to my lunch box during break to find that my can of Diet Mtn Dew had undergone a change and was an extra can of Caffeine Free Diet Pepsi. 

I cussed.

This is what happens when you pack your lunch in a hurry.

I've sorta stuck with the elemental iodine I had been prescribed.

I haven't worn an underwire bra in MONTHS. 

Macy's version is a lot sturdier that the overpriced Victoria's Secret version by the way.

I know I will get the phone call that they have abnormal results.  Of course you have abnormal results...I have a field of Lima Beans rolling around in my Boobies!

But it is a necessary evil ladies that truly saves lives.

And afterwards, I'm meeting up with a fellow Deployed Soldier Spouse and having lunch at TGI Fridays...where I think I will have the biggest glass of Sweet Tea they have. 

Hate It Book Review

Jean Auel:

May I ask WHAT IN THE HELL WERE YOU DOING when you wrote Land of Painted Caves?

Really woman?

Did you write it or poop it out?

Because it suuucked.

I stopped reading in Chapter 8. I couldn't take it anymore.

I flipped to the back...read the ending...which was even dumber...and closed it. 

Deeply irrevocably disappointed in what you did here.

Your character of Ayla has been reduced to a woman that can't have a career and a child. 

Jondalar is just milling around talking about spear throwing.

 You introduce the damned Wolf to everyone in the SAME FREAKING WAY.

 I know Ayla has an accent.  DUH. 

I know Jondalar is tall.  DUH. 

I know she looks exotic.  DUH. 

DAMN DAMN DAMN.

All I have to say...if I had bought this book...I'd want my money back. 

Instead I got to dump it in the Return box at the Library today and kiss it goodbye.

Because it SUCKED.

Love It Book Review

I said a few blogs back, that the folks around here take their Virginia History VERY seriously.

And Kiddo and I went to the Henricus Publick Days and enjoyed it immensely.  You know the place where he sparred with a Colonial, and watched the Chickahominy Indians dance?

I passed a booth there that I really wanted to stop and look at, but with a four year old in tow that wasn't willing to look at anything for more than two seconds that was not pirate related, I had to do a quick memory scan and hope I could remember the name of the book.  I smiled and waved at the author, but couldn't stop to chat.

I did.  Thankfully.  I had to Google a few times to get the spelling right of the author, but I found it!

I checked it out from the local library.

I read it until 3am on Saturday night.  Fell asleep with it in my hands.  Woke up on Sunday morning, stayed on the couch and in my PJ's until noon while I finished it.   

Kiddo was parked in front of Thomas Marathons to keep him quiet.  He was fed, and pottied a few times. Other than that, there wasn't much interaction. 

Why?

I LOVED this book.  To the point that I was really super sad when it ended.  Because I wanted more.

I laughed.

I cried.

I cried hysterical tears during the scene when the Deliverance and the Patience rolled into Jamestown.

I marvelled at the strength of these people.

I wanted to wring the neck of some lazy bastards.

I wanted to say 'It will be OK...it turns out OK' to these people...but they can't hear me...

And I got more of a history lesson that I had ever ever hoped for.

Can you imagine departing on a small ship, bound for a New World, while leaving one child behind in England and taking one with you?

To cross the Atlantic...in a Hurricane...arriving to find inadequate food or housing...and knowing that it was 'sink or swim'?

If you want to read a really awesome amazing piece of historical fiction, this is your book. 

I have not felt this passionately about a novel in a LONG time...but I even rattled on in detail to The Husband when he called right after I finished and I was so full of 'good book afterglow' that I was about ready to burst!

This is her website....enjoy!

Freaking out a bit...

I see my therapist on Tuesday, so this is rather timely.

I am freaking out over The Husband coming home.

I really really am.

I had planned on him being gone until April or May, and to know that there is a 99.8% chance that he is coming home at the end of January is still effing with my mind.

Our budget has been reworked, and it is totally doable.

I've reworkd the budget and it is still doable.

Guess what...I reworked the budget, and it is still doable.

I'm still spazzing...because that is what I do best.

I tried living on our tight budget this pay period, but it got blown all to crapola when The Husband had to pull $100 out of the account of some expenses.   Then Kiddo busted out of his last pair of Stride Rites, so the trip to Shoe Carnival for a new pair turned into a $55 venture.  I will say, I got two pairs of Skechers, 10% off and they were Buy One get One Half Off.  Oh yeah, and then I had to register him at his back up daycare for the days that his Preschool is closed for weather/elections/random bullshit.  That was $75.   Craaap.

So, back to square one.  We have savings to dip into if needed, just like we will after The Husband gets home.

But what if I don't get a good job?  What if no one wants to hire me because I am 'overqualified'?  That is a TRUE fear.  That people will see my work history and KNOW that I am uber qualified, and not want me because they think I will be asking for too much money.  I KNOW that I won't be making what I made before, ever again, and I am super dooper ok with that.

So I spent yesterday at the Library listening to Calculator Boy, American to Italy Foreign Exchange Student chick, and Chick Who Asked WAY Too Many Questions Study.   While I was listening to them lament about the SATs (sweet God....what I wouldn't give to have that be my only problem in life)...I redid my resume.

I dumbed it down.

I did.

I took out duties.  I left out responsibilities.

I made me sound pretty average.

And I printed out twenty of them, along with a bubbly upbeat 'excited about a new career!' cover letter and sent them to local physician's offices in hopes of a part time position.

Because I am absolutely not dealing well with not having a job. 

I'm freaking terrified. 

Even though our checkbook is comfortable, and the bills are all nicely paid.   We have savings.

But I am NOT CONTRIBUTING!  I feel useless and honestly, I am getting a little bored.

I drop off Kiddo...run to class.  After class I eat lunch while I work on classwork.  Then I go to the YMCA for an hour and walk on the treadmill.    Then The Husband calls and we talk on my way to the library.  Then I'm at the library for an hour or more working on class work.  Pick up Kiddo, and home.

Fridays I am off.

Which is KILLING me.  I don't like having this many days to do nothing with. 

Yes, I study, and clean, and sort....laundry, groceries, etc.

It's hard to explain.

But I am a little over not having a job.  

I know I know...I am not wasting time.  But still.....

*sigh*

But today we went to the Pumpkin Patch for a little friend's birthday.  If you remember Sweetie from many many posts ago. 

He had a blast...and busted his lip...but he's fine now.

Another brag...and updates...

I have to do another Happy Butt Dance!

After studying my Happy Butt off for an entire weekend...I got another 100 on my test today.  I now know way more about how poop is made than I ever cared to know.

Did you know that you can have white poop?  If you do, you need to get to a doc IMMEDIATELY...that's NOT a good thing.

Midterm of this Module is tomorrow.  I think I am ready...I hope so anyway.

Rambling now....

There is a kid across from me in the library with the biggest freaking calculator I have ever seen and the biggest pile of books.  Makes me sweat a little.  In about 10 years my kid will be there and I have NO idea how I am supposed to help him manipulate that calculator.  Holy Gawd.

Back on track....

Quirky has backed off of my Happy Butt a bit.  She's still following me around and meeting me out in the parking lot.  But hasn't texted me since last Thursday morning...and hasn't run across the parking lot lately.  My Instructor asked me today if things were improving.  I had to say that they were .  For me....yes.  For Instructor...not so much.  Now that she can't get much response out of me in class, she's pestering the pee out of the Instructor.   And walk up and down the corridor with her Ipod on during breaks silently singing and dancing to the music in her head.   I will say, she's getting a LOT easier to ignore.

The Husband has Bronchitis again.  I don't think he has actually stopped coughing since March...but now it's kicked up a few notches. I catch myself shutting my eyes to keep from yelling out 'Will. You. Stop. That. Coughing. Now. Please. DAMN IT."    I dropped a package of Omegas, Zinc, Echinacea, Goldenseal, Cough Drops and Cinnamon Almonds to him today.  The Cinnamon Almonds are a new addiction, and I must say, NASTY.  He can keep them.   The rest are my Witch Doctor ways of helping him out. 

Our phone conversations are getting more funny.  Somewhere, a programmer is chuckling about the Skype programming he invented and put his own special touch on.  He has put in a programming bug that about half way into a conversation, you will only hear vowels.  No consonants.  At all.  Ever.   And then you will hear...'Can you hear me now' clear as a fucking bell.  Then the next sentence is all vowels.  Holy Hell.   I can't wait to just sit in the living room and talk to him.  Without that mess in between us.  Hell, "Big Bang Theory" had a spoof on Cyber sex the other night and I will have to say, I found it most hysterical.  The frozen screen on one end...the ability for the other person to see and hear you just fine (he hears me cussing a lot).  I'm grateful for the service and ability...but geezus.

In three weeks I leave for Maine for an entire weekend to see my BFF.  My parents are going to keep Kiddo and I am getting on a plane ALONE and flying to Maine...ALONE...to have a girls weekend...ALONE.  I'm rather excited, but so so so apprehensive too.  It'll be fine.  And fun!  I'm going to have a beer...and a meal...without someone needing a toy out of my purse...or requesting crayons...or his lemonade with a "little bit of lemonade and a whole lotta water"   I'm so excited...but guilty too.  You know.  Mom's aren't supposed to ditch their kids and fly to another state for a weekend.  Well, Good Moms aren't.  Don't judge me.

Rambling a moment...

The Calculator Kid is STILL working over there...with spreadsheets and shit that I can't even begin to comprehend what he is doing without being the Creepy Weird Lady watching him.   Oh please let him be some Math Genius..and this isn't Regular Kid homework.  Cause I may cry.

Now to study a bit for the Midterm tomorrow.  Poop poop and more poop.

A great sadness...

I am suffering a great loss...a great sadness.

A time of mourning in this house.

We have lost a valuable member of our household.

One who has given me comfort, and solace over the past few years.

One who has assisted in keeping my life sane and coherent.

And I am mourning the loss...

Of The Nap.

I knew the day would come.  So many of his Peers have lost The Nap.  I was relishing the fact that Kiddo still had The Nap, and I was so envied by the Moms without The Nap.

But the day has dawned.

I remove my hat, and bow my head in mourning...for this is a great loss...that weighs upon my Heart.

This weekend, Kiddo has demonstrated the keen ability to not only avoid The Nap, but function rather well without it.

I cannot say the same for me.

Oh, the battle that raged yesterday.  He stayed home with me because he has a Wild Case of the Crud.  I couldn't justify him going to Preschool with the hacking cough and snotty nose when I did not have class.

I imagined a nice day at home...some movies...snacks...a nice long nap.

Oh...I was as wrong as hell.

He would not Nap...there would be no Nap...he turned into a raving lunatic when we attempted The Nap.  It was enough to make me want to cry.

Today...I tried again.

Nope. 
I gave up after about fifteen minutes of him not cooperating at all.  I wasn't battling today.  It wasn't worth it.

I came downstairs...and I proceeded to just do what I was going to do while he napped.

I cleaned out his drawers of summer clothes...as he tailed behind me..and helped.

But the loss of The Nap is most disconcerting.

I can't imagine life without The Nap.

Days upon end without him taking The Nap.

At least he is still napping at Preschool.  That I know.

So we have that.

But craaaap. 

No Nap for Kiddo.  No Nap for Momma.

*sigh*

Captain Hook...er...Captain Oh Crap I have to Find this Costume for Halloween...

Halloween is descending upon us.

Yes, I realize I have like over 40 days until the Blessed Event.

But...

Kiddo is HUGE into Halloween.

LIKE HUG-ER than me and The Husband.

He LIVES for Halloween. 

Plans it out starting in January.

This year it is Captain Hook.

And the cheap prepacked Pirate costumes will not work.

They aren't Captain Hook.

As I have been told VERY loudly in Target, Wal Mart and a Costume store.

I am not one to give in to every stinking whim.  That's The Husband's job.

But this year....I have this huge need to make sure he gets his Captain Hook costume.

I however, refuse to pay $70 for the Disney Store version.

And Ebay hasn't been much help at all.

But after putting a 'feeler'...well, a whine, out on Facebook this morning, I have had a friend offer up her sewing skills.

SWEET.

We linked patterns back and forth all day...and she has come to a brilliant solution to my problem.

The one pattern that had the Captain Hook coat...is now out of print and only available on Ebay for an exorbitant amount of money.

Nope...she said.   Don't buy it.

And then proceeded to jabber in Seamstress Language.  I have no idea what she said.  Something about a sale on patterns, making a flare, basting...something like that.

I'm just excited that she gets what I want, and is able to replicate it. 

Yes, I took sewing in High School.  Doesn't mean I WANT to do it...or CAN do it.

Give me a sewing machine and I'll give you a 'Go to Hell' look.

But there are those talented folks out there that get it. 

Thank goodness.

Now to find the hook and hat.  I can handle that...surely.

Week Two...

I am into Week Two of my Medical Assistant course.

Yesterday was a bit of a Muddle...but I got through. 

I've learned that if I go home on Mondays, after class, and read the next chapter, finish the workbook, and get a little laundry done, then I am a step ahead.

Quirky Girl pretty much stayed away yesterday.  She milled around with other students, and acted fairly appropriate.

Today dawned a New Day.

As I am pulling out of my driveway, she texts me "don't forget workbook"

I text back..."thanks!"

She texts back..."ur welcome.  Do u have it?"

I replied nothing back as I was driving.

Get to son's school...she had texted two more times asking if I had remembered my book.

I replied "yes, I have it.  Thanks!"

And drove towards class.

I pull in the Parking Lot, and she comes busting out the door and runs across the parking lot AGAIN at me.

"Where were you!" she blurts.

I simply open my trunk, put my purse in, close it and walk around the car to get to my backpack.

"Quirky.  I have a bit of a commute here...and a Kiddo to drop off at Preschool.  I will not be here at the same time everyday.  It depends on our morning and traffic."

She didn't accept that very well.  "I texted you to see where you were...you didn't reply!"

"Quirky.  I do not text and drive.  I'll let you know if I am going to be majorly late or not coming that day. Okay?  But I do not text and drive"

So on my heels she walks into the building, into the breakroom, into the bathroom.

Yes, the bathroom.

Again.

Damn it to hell.

Apparently I really jacked up her day with my failure to reply to her texts as I am going 70mph on the highway.

I had had enough.

I'm sorry.  If Quirky has a Medical Condition and that is the REASON she is acting like this, please warn someone.  I know HIPPAA and all that fall into play here.  But she is making me quite uncomfortable and annoyed.  I don't know how to DEAL WITH HER!

If Quirky is just QUIRKY...HOLY HELL....

"Quirky.  You really need to give me some space sweetie.  I have work to do, and errands to run, and a child to take care of.  I do not have time to be texting and chatting.  Sorry"

She blinked.  But it didn't phase her.

At all.

Through Lab, she corrected every damn thing I did. 

I walked away and blatantly ignored her shouting my name across the room.  Yes. She. Did.  Because she wanted to see if I wanted to take her blood pressure.  No. I. Didn't.

I'm turning into a Mean Girl now.  And I don't like that.

But I can't think at home without the Pirate Boy chattering or the dog pacing...and I can't think in Class anymore because Quirky is being Quirky.

Thankfully, in Computer Lab, my computer wouldn't let me log on.  I am hoping to redo that problem next week...and so forth and so on.  I had to move to one across the room.

Bliss.

It was after Computer Lab, when she waited around for me...forever...that I decided something else had to be done.  So I sent her on, and talked to the Instructor.

She had noticed I was having issues with Quirky.  But she didn't know about the Parking Lot Stalk, nor the Texting.  She does now.

She's going to keep an eye on things, and help me get Quirky under a bit of Social Control.  If that doesn't work...redirecting, being blunt, redirecting some more...then we will have to go to the Department Head and see what we can do.

But other than that...our week is all about Poop.  The Digestive System to be more precise...but basically it's all about POOP.

Bragging a bit

Hey...

Guess what?

I took my first test today....

I studied my ASS off...

I had no idea what to expect. 

Was it what she reviewed...or were there hidden clues (a college professor used that freaking tactic)...

I made an....

A!

100%

WHOOOT!

SO happy....sooo sooo happy!

Now to read the next chapter and do that workbook.

But whooot!

So far, I am a 4.0 student.  :)

God Save the Queen....Arghhhhh!

Today...Kiddo and I ventured to the 400th Year Celebration of the Founding of Henricus.

As a Transplant Virginian, I must say that these folks take Jamestown and Henricus VERY seriously.

VERY VERY seriously.

If you can link an ancestor to Jamestown...you know someone that actually survived the disease, famine, pestilence... its a BIG deal.

I have a possible link to Jamestown...one of my many many many greats could have possibly been one of their Ancient Planters (first farmers).

I'm not sure...and I sure as sin am not telling these people.

This weekend was the Big Celebration...and it was FREE...so why not.

Kiddo and I packed up and journeyed over...parked and strolled in.

Kiddo is VERY big into Pirates right now.  Like HUGE BIG.

Like he has a Sword in the Car....and I had to tell him that they wouldn't let the Sword in the Celebration. 

He was bummed.

Plus, I was afraid some Interpreter was going to get disgruntled by my child calling them a Pirate. 

Like I said, some of these folks take this local history stuff VERY seriously.
First thing you walk through is the Indian Village.  Very cool...except one small historical flaw.  One of the women had on green and pink striped bikini underwear under her wrap.  And it was slipping in the back.  Well, slipping is generous...it was coming off her butt. 

Kiddo talked with a Trapper, wasn't too thrilled with their houses...and wanted to journey on.

I really wanted to watch the hot dude with the hot tribal tattoos carve out the canoe. 

He wasn't interested.

As you enter the English Settlement, there is a Gate Guard.

Apparently you are supposed to have a Pass Word or something...I didn't know what the heck to say to his 'God Save the Queen'.

Hell...I'm lucky to know which Queen he is referring to.

My child just briskly glanced up at the Interpreter and announced , with a crooked finger announced 'Arghhhhh!'

The Armored Interpreter, with the big pike, simply blinked and grinned.  I had to laugh as we were ushered through the gate.

Then my child got to sword fight. 

If he had been an adult male, he might have peed his pants with glee.

They had Bopping Sticks for the kids, and one of the Interpreters sparred with him.  He was so tickled...and showed some pretty good form in all honesty.  

His little arms flailing, the big helmet knocking around...it was too cool.

Made me want to sign him up for freaking Fencing lessons or something.  

Not so much, but I wanted to...for a brief moment.

After doing our rounds, and seeing the GodSpeed (I'm not sure I would have climbed on that ship to sail across the Atlantic if England had been on FIRE...its a bit cramped)....we headed back to the entrance.

And stumbled upon the Chickahominy Tribe doing some dancing demonstrations.

Too cool.

Morning Glory!

During the fall and winter, I get into a really neat habit with Kiddo.

Since The Husband is usually gone somewhere, we fall into this routine pretty much every fall/winter season.

It's pretty simple.

We stay up late on Friday night.

I take him to bed around 11p when he is about to fall over but clinging onto the special 'stay up late' funsies.

I roll out at 630a.

Brew a hot pot of coffee.

Pop in a movie (I have discovered the local library near Kiddo's New School and I must say they have an OUTSTANDING collection of new releases for one night check outs...sweeeet).

And enjoy. ( This morning was XMen...First Class)

Kiddo wakes up around the time my movie is ending.

We have breakfast, we play.

We get errands done.  And then I plop him down for a late nap at around 4p.

And I left him sleep until near 6p.

A little late bedtime on Sunday night...sleep in on Sunday morning.

However.

I have to make sure he gets up earlier on Sunday morning, because a late nap on Sunday results in Stupid Late bedtime on Sunday night...which directly correlates with Incredibly Cranky Child on Monday morning at 7am

Saturday is awesome though.

I love fall.