Noah

I am not the most religious person on the planet.

I question God.  I question the whole notion of a 'supreme being'.  I question them all.  Hindu, Jewish, Christian, etc.

I was raised Methodist.  I am more than happy to experience various religions and find their traditions fascinating.  I bow my head along with everyone else.  I'm not a screaming Atheist that doesn't want people to pray...ever.  I have no problem with it.  What they feel is what they feel.  What I feel is what I feel.  I respect their feelings and find the experiences educational and spiritual in my own way.

But I've never felt religion deeply.  I accept them all for face value and keep happily plugging along.

But Kiddo has started asking about God.

I mean, the child goes to a Church Preschool. He's starting to wonder who this 'God is Great' guy is all about.

The Husband and I have not been big on going to Church.  We just haven't.  Lots of excuses.  I won't list them.

So I picked up some Bible story books for Kiddo's age at the Library. 

After last week's events in Connecticut, I figured it was about time to try a little soul searching.

So we read the story of Noah last night....

I thought he'd be more interested in the animals all on the Ark.

Not so much...he was more interested in the rainbow at the end.

But when I read the paragraph "God watched them, these people who would continue the world.  Humans are not perfect, God thought.  There is an evil corner in their hearts. Perhaps they will learn goodness one day.  In the meantime, I made them, and must accept them as they are".

Oh wow. 

And it was not lost on me that they buried little Noah yesterday.  In Connecticut. 

But my heart has healed a little.  Just a crack.  Just a smidge. 

A tiny bit.

Trying

I'm trying.
Really I am.
I'm trying to not look at my five year old and cry.
I want to kneel down in front of each and every child that comes into our practice and hug them.
I want to pat the top of all their beautiful little heads.
The little girl with glasses and missing teeth today was the most beautiful child ever.  Her smile was just stunning.
And I had to turn and pretend to send a fax as my eyes filled with tears.
I can't talk about this at work.  I can't talk at home.
I am attending my son's 'Sing Along' program tomorrow and I know I'll cry at some point.  Hoping to make it to the car afterwards before I let it loose.
Because there are twenty parents in Connecticut that won't get to do that. 
Instead they are burying their children.
That's just so wrong. 
So very very wrong.

Grief

I heard about the Connecticut shooting at work.
I heard three people were dead.  Oh ok...another co worker shot up fellow coworkers.  Domestic issues gone wrong.
I was so very wrong. Very very wrong.
In this town in Connecticut, there are 20 sets of parents of first graders that are having to deal with Christmas presents, empty rooms, dirty laundry, and the loss of their child.
How do you go on?
I've cried myself stupid.
For my own sanity, I have not read a report, nor watched the news since Friday.  I cannot get on Facebook either.
I want to curl into a ball and sob my eyes out for parents that I don't even KNOW.  The grief is so striking...so painful.  I feel like I've been kicked.  I feel sad.  Sad isn't a good word.  I'm just hurt...
My Kiddo is five.  What the fuck would I do?  How would I go on?  How do you keep breathing?  How do you keep moving?  How do you not just die yourself?
I couldn't.
I've been to a toddlers funeral.  I still grieve for that child, and it's been seven years.  She was not mine.  I was not a mother at the time of her death.  But I still grieve.  Her parents have pushed through and are just wonderful people with very full lives for their children.  But I cannot for the life of me imagine having to push through.
I can't imagine the fear and terror these children experienced in that chaos...I cannot imagine their pain and confusion.
I just can't.
I flash to the face of my own child and the thoughts of what I would do.  I keep putting myself there.
My heart aches.  It just hurts so bad.  I want to get in the car and drive there and hug someone and say I am sorry.  So very very very sorry.
As I hug my fiesty child that has no idea this horrible evil ever happened.
My five year old.
With his presents from Santa waiting in the closet. 
And his dirty laundry strung everywhere.
And I am grateful that my child is safe and well, and happy. 
But those poor parents...those poor families...it hurts so badly. 
That town will never be the same.  How do you heal from that?  How do you ?
I have no answers.  Just grief for these parents.  The hopes that the news story will change. 
But it won't. 
And these kids are gone.
And the Christmas trees are lit.

A Tale of Two Turkeys

Ahhhh...the Tradition of running all over three states for the Thanksgiving Holiday had to be given up this year.

With Great New Job, comes the fact that I had to work on Friday after Thanksgiving.

So , no travelling.

My parents, both being sick, didn't come in.

My inlaws...well....nevermind.

So it was going to be a Dinner for Three.

I voted to go out to dinner.

The Husband voted to order dinner.

Kiddo wanted to 'do it right Mom'.

Which meant Biggest Turkey Ever, corn, rolls, carrots, and pies.

Here's the kicker...Kiddo has NEVER eaten the Traditional Meal.  Ever.

Last year, I had to stop at Waffle House in North Carolina and feed him.  He literally had not eaten for three days because he refused all the Traditional stuff.

I knew in my heart he wasn't going to go for this...but maybe, just maybe if we took him shopping he would be into it.

Off to the grocery store we go...armed with coupons and savings.

Kiddo promptly picked out a 22 lb turkey.

Yes, TWENTY TWO POUNDS.

No amount of convincing or talking would get him to give up on The Biggest Turkey Ever.

So we put Big Bird in the cart, and trolled around for the rest of the fixings.

The Husband and I kept eye balling each other sidewise, and like the team that we are, without saying a word, he picked up Kiddo as we were nearing the end of the store to take him to the salad bar to get a 'snack'. 

Wink Wink  Nudge Nudge.

I hoofed it back to the Freezer section as fast as I could fly.  I dodged down the aisle when I heard his voice pipe up.

I hoisted Big Bird out of the cart and flopped him back into the bin.

I mashed my pinky finger in the process.

I frantically rooted for the Smallest Turkey Ever. 

I settled for a 12 lb'r.

I raced back to the check out.

I informed the clerk to ring the Bird up first and stuff it quickly into the canvas shopping bag.

NOW!  Here they come!

Operation Turkey Switch was a success.

Kiddo talks about eating the turkey leg...the big slices of the turkey...and all the fixins.

Thanksgiving Day dawns...the Bird is being prepped for the oven. 

Kiddo admires my handiwork...watches it all day...ohhhhs and ahhhhs when I take it out of the oven.

I'm so proud to lay the thick slices on his plate with the pretty sides I've labored over all morning.

We say Grace...three times.  Three different ways. 

And Kiddo proceeds to ....

EAT.  NONE. OF. IT.

He had corn, carrots and a roll.

*Sigh* 

Next year, we are hitting Golden Corral.

Pain

Today I established as a New Patient with the Awesome Doctor I work for. 

It was odd to say the least...to be the patient.

I did most of my paperwork early on...had my prescriptions loaded in, along with getting information from the specialists I have seen over the years.

Awesome Doctor reviewed them as they came in...my Breast Biopsy and Breast Cyst Saga...my Cervical Stenosis from Hell...the Allergy Testing I had done last year...and my round with Shingles this spring.

It was interesting to read up on the different ailments and their outcomes. 

I did realize something...I'm really pretty luck.  I'm not suffering from High Blood Pressure, or Diabetes.   I'm overweight, but I am no obese.

Most of my problems are pain and joint related...in some form or fashion.

And as we chatted, I realized I am in Pain such a large amount of time that I don't remember what it is like to NOT hurt.

I have Fibromyalgia as my base pain.  So in other words, I hurt all over pretty much all of the stinking time.  I was not diagnosed until 1999, and even then I had a hard time getting a doctor to listen to me.  I was in such misery, and sure I was dying from some unknown tropical disease.  I had one physician tell me to just 'get over it'. Yeah, sure.  Let me get right on that.  I tried anti depressants...and pain medications.  They didn't work very well for me at all.  I had to finally figure out that it wasn't going to kill me...and I had to learn to cope.  And cope I have.

Then you add in herniated C-5, 6 and 7 in my neck.  Turn the wrong way too fast folks, and I am DONE.  As my Neuro put in his notes "stuck in the neutral position".  I remember that well...I wanted to throw up from the pain, but I don't think I could have bent my head to do so.  I still live in fear of that moment again...I won't even get on a roller coaster...ever again.

Now I have come kind of weird pain in my left knee and ankle.  They hurt.  Not every day...but mainly when I am ovulating.  Excruciating!  I know!  Go freaking figure!  She flexed my foot and pushed on it...then my toes turned blue.  I know! (again!) Weird. 

Honestly, I was just hoping my feet didn't stink and my stubble on my legs weren't showing too badly.

All in all it was a good visit.  I'm glad I did the establishment.  It was good to kind of spell it out all for someone so that they have the full story in front of them.

So I now have in hand some lab work paperwork, and xray orders.  Gonna see what this next round of joint pain is all about.

I'd love a massage right now.

Twizzler Snitch

I love Halloween.

I adoooore Halloween.

I absolutely love the fact that Halloween is so much fun, and such a guilt free Holiday.  As I have stated before, no one gives you grief over spending too much time at the in laws on Halloween, or eating their Special Halloween Dinner and not Theirs.

Kiddo has such a good time.  He plans it out well in advance...say March.

This year was no different. 

This year we are allowed to dress up at work.  Some employees go all out, some are simple.  My Doctor (whom I love) and I are trying to coordinate.  Contemplating my costume was a task within itself.  I needed something that didn't show my bosom or ass.  So that took out most costumes on the market now.

Then I needed something I could work in.  So that takes out another huge portion of available costumes. 

I'm irritated. 

Till The Husband points out my red scrubs...and a pair of devil horns.

THIS is the reason I keep him around folks.

My Doctor agrees to small angel wings and a little blinking Halo. 

I think I may have offended a patient or two...and was called a 'horny devil' in Target by a guy that I am not sure if he was or was no in costume.  I think he just looked like a scary pervert on a daily basis.

Trick or Treat time at the house!  Rush home...throw some hot dogs in...run Kiddo to the Neighbor Who Hates Halloween's House so she can dump an entire bag of fun size M&M's in his bucket...then lock up her house and leave for a few hours...

And the Trick or Treaters began.

First set...at 6pm...Batgirl...SuperMario and a teenager dressed as a prostitute (I think it was a witch...but I am not sure) and Mom.

I give them goodies...the little girl exclaims over my Twizzlers...awwwww she's cute!  So I hand her more.

An hour later, we have a lull, I'll take Kiddo to a few houses.

Hit another neighbor, round the corner...hit another neighbor...

Then we get to The House.

At The House...the Prostitute Witch is in the car in the driveway putting makeup on her boyfriend.

I walk past...to their well lit porch with well lit decorations and pumpkins.

Kiddo rings their doorbell.

And it is answered by The Mom...who then proclaims to my five year old child..."Oh, I'm sorry sweetie...we aren't giving out candy!"

To which I replied... "Your light is on".

"It's on a sensor...I need to shut it off"

"Yeah, you do...you're going to get your doorbell rung all night...come on Kiddo"

We turn to go, and I see Batgirl standing in the doorway...eating a Twizzler.

Kiddo busts out with 'She got that at our house!'

My loud reply was thus "Some people just have no manners baby...they take from you but won't reach into their own bucket to give any back.  Have a good night!"

Some people just need their house toilet papered.

Creating Family Memories for 57 years...

My ass.

The Adventures in the Pop Pop have begun, and what a doozy our first trip turned out to be.

We decided to journey to Williamsburg, VA to use our Military Appreciation Passes to Busch Gardens.   Researched the local campgrounds before picking one that I will not name here...he's gotten flamed enough by my hot ass in the past week.  I don't need him linked to me here.

I read the reviews, and a handful expressed displeasure in 'train noise'.  Most people had fun and enjoyed the campground.

Big deal...trains are everywhere.  I can hear the trains from my house.  Some people are sensitive.

We looked at the map of the campground...plenty of space...looked pretty good. 

Close to Busch Gardens.

Sounds good.

Packed up, hooked up, headed out.

Problem #1:  We arrived after dark.

Problem #2:  The spaces are so damned narrow and short, that the 'back to back' complete sites will not accomodate two campers comfortably.  Especially trying to angle in after dark. 

The spot we had been assigned was already taken over by another camper.  It wasn't his fault that we couldn't fit.  It just wasn't happening.  So we assigned ourselves an empty pull thru site and set up for the night.

We were enjoying the conversation of the retirees next door, when Problem #3 arrived.

The Trains.

HOLY SHIT...they were not fifty feet away...and rolling at full speed...with horns blasting...

I nearly peed on myself.

The Husband looked at me.  I looked at The Husband.  We looked at The Retirees.  They looked as shocked as us.

Not Kidding.

I could feel that train all the way to the top of my head...

The world shook.

Rather uhm...eye opening.

Ok...they'll not run all night...right?  I mean...people have to sleep and this place has been in operation for '57 years' according to their website.

Oh Fuck Yes...they ran all night.  Every. Half. Hour. from Midnight until 6am.

Kid you not.

Amtrak, Norfolk Southern, CSX.  You name it.  They rolled by.

So hard and so fast, that they literally knocked our camper off level.

I had visions of a car derailing and wiping us all out around 3am. 

Thanks to everything holy, Kiddo slept through it.

The Husband and I did not.

There is an 'I Love Lucy' episode where they were in a hotel next to a train track. 

It was something like that.

When Dawn finally broke, and we took inventory of ourselves and understood we had indeed survived the night... my bleary eyed self staggered from the camper, I snapped this photo...

Yes...that is a Freaking Freight Train.  I am standing at my Pop Up Camper Door.  What you are also seeing is a corralled empty Tent Camping Site.

Holy Crap.

There were Tent Campers even closer than we were...and they were not amused.

Upon closer observation of this 'family campground' in the daylight, it became VERY clear that it was literally built on a narrow strip of property between a main highway and a railroad.  Three rows for campers...that's it.  The ones lucky enough to be on the 'far end' backed up to the major highway.  There was no peace in that campground.  None. 

The bathhouse is in major need of rennovations. 

The sites were narrow and cramped.

Then there was the added bonus of the shaking....and horns....and fear all night long that you were about to die.

I did not complain to Management.  I blame our own stupidity on this one.

I didn't read the reviews thoroughly, I did not research enough...we got screwed.

 And we were there for another night. 

Needless to say, I had already typed out my reviews for Trip Advisor and Yelp! before I had finished my first cup of coffee and uploaded them...photo included.  If I could save one person from that nightmare, it'd be worth it.

A fun filled day at Busch Gardens, Dinner out in Williamsburg, we dragged ourselves back to the Pop Pop and settled in for the night.

Only three trains that night...and really only one big one.

That didn't mean we lingered on Sunday morning.  I don't think we've ever broken camp and hauled ass so fast.

Yeah, they created a Family Memory...not one I care to relive...

Popping it Up Again

Back before Afghanistan called The Husband away, you might remember that we had an awesome little Pop Up camper.

She was small...and cheap.  And we enjoyed Camping very much.

Well...except that hot ass night in Myrtle Beach when the break blew at 2am and we didn't have air conditioning.  Sleeping with the flaps unzipped all night as the security golf cart circled around and around and around and around..did I mention AROUND....all fucking night long.  With his orange blinky fucking twirly light.

We sold the Pop Pop right before The Husband left, and we've missed it so.

Caught the bug again on our last trip to Hatteras to mooch off a friend and borrow his house for the weekend.  We HAD to drive around a campground, and we began to miss ol Pop Pop.

Craigslist here we come!

You can find everything on Craigslist.  Beat Ass Furniture.  Beat Ass Cars.  Beat Ass Hookers.  Weirdos and People Who Post Ads but Are Scared to Sell Anything to Normal People.

We found campers we liked, emailed the seller, only to be told it was sold.

Then TAKE DOWN the FUCKING AD MORON.

Shit.

Not to be detered, we found more campers, and emailed more sellers.

A few foreign scams, some 'no it was sold an hour ago' emails, and some folks who just never replied...

Finally...we scored!

Only Camper Dude was NERVOUS as HELL.

We are normal.  We look normal.  We talk normal.  We drive normal vehicles.  We have normal money.

I mean seriously...WHO runs a scam wearing an Army uniform, scrubs and has a really good looking five year old in the back set?

He was one nervous Camper Dude.

I really thought he was going to tell us no and turn our cash down.

But he didn't.

We brought our new Pop Pop home last weekend, and we are taking it for a one night spin tomorrow night to a local campground to make sure nothing is crazy with it.

Cause it is going to DISNEY in February!

WHOOOOT!

Monkey Child

I started this blog as a rant about the happenings at Kiddo's Fifth Birthday Bash.

From parents making out in my kitchen...not once, but twice...to uncontrolled children and folks who thought it was OK to drop their child off and leave without EVER telling me...to guests randomly parking in my neighbor's driveway...even though the entire cul de sac was available.

I typed it all out...inserted a graphic...tried to move it...lost it all...tried to get it back...hit Save instead...it was lost.

Oh well.

So instead I'll go down Memory Lane.

I've spent the past five years with a child that pretty much cried the entire first year.

Didn't sleep...EVER.

Made me cry.

Made me smile.

Made me worry.

Made me wonder.

Made my heart soar.

He is the smartest, brightest, most well behaved child in the History of Children.  I should know...according to my mother, I was the exact same way.

As all mother's tend to think of their children.

Even though there are days I want to flick him between the eyes.

That seems to be my go-to instinctual reaction to many of his antics.

I don't flick him...I just WANT to.

I marvel at that little hand that still wants to hold mine.

When he sleeps he looks EXACTLY the same as he did when he was an infant.

Some mornings, when he is stretching to wake up, I see glimpses of that Newborn squirming around and making faces.

I love my child so much it hurts.

I want my child to succeed and be happy.

To live life.

To enjoy.

To pay fucking attention once in a while.

To listen.

 Yeah right.

I still go to bed with him every night.  I don't think he knows that I do not sleep with him. 

Most of the time I don't sleep with him.  There are still mornings that I wake up in the RaceCar bed with feet in my face.

And I will continue to go to bed with him as long as he will let me.

Because someday he won't want to hold my hand, or cuddle on the couch, or tell me the latest storylines on the Avengers or Spiderman. 

My Monkey Child...oh how far we have come...how far we have to go.

And as I write this, I've had to threaten to take away the most obnoxious toy ever because he won't stop making it talk...over and over...without letting the toy finish its line...so I just keep hearing 'I am Iron' 'I am Iron' 'I am Iron' 'I am Iron' 'I am Iron' 'I am Iron'....I am about to scream!

I may go flick Iron Man between the eyes.

Love you Monkey Child...it's time for bed.

Two lines

My BFF up and moved to Maine a few years ago, and she and her Hubby are enjoying themselves immensely.

However, they have been unable to have a baby.

I felt oh so guilty when I got pregnant with Kiddo and had to tell her.  She was truly happy for me, and helped me so much while The Husband was gone to Iraq.

I've missed her terribly since she moved to Maine...

She and her Hubby registered with an Adoption Agency back in the winter.  Through home visits, and recommendation letters, baby classes, up and downs...and a lot of lost sleep...she got her two pink lines!

All day Friday, I paced six miles from the desk of the LPN I was training with, to my work station, and back again...checking for a message from her after the gazillionth conference call with the potential birth mom.

But alas, the confirmation didn't come down until Friday night at around 1045P.

She and her Hubby will get to bring Little Boy home in October.

I'm so happy for them! 

I want to be closer to her, and go to her baby shower next month...and help her register like she did for me...

But she is surrounded by a great group of folks, and she is soooo happy. 

I can't wait to meet him...and see her smile and be the mom she has needed to be for so long.

*happy sigh* 

Happy to Report...

I passed my Medical Assistant Certification Test!

Not only did pass the test....I scored a 90!

The first twenty questions had be nearly convinced I was taking the wrong test.  There was so much on phlebotomy.  I was ready to raise my hand and make sure I was logged in for the correct test when it flipped over to the ONE EKG question. 

I was shaking like a leaf the whole time.  I focused in and accomplished it though...I am so proud of that.

Big kuddos out to The Husband for taking Kiddo out every single night that week to poke him full of ice cream, trips to Books a Million, and various other activities.  This meant Kiddo was wired up every evening and didn't go to bed until nearly 10p every night, but I got some good quiet study time in!

I am CERTIFIED!  YAY!

I also turned in my two weeks notice.  They offered me a pay raise and didn't deduct the three and a half hours out of my paycheck where I was out for my test. 

I stood my ground, even though I felt a twinge of sympathy and guilt, and stuck with my 'this is a great opportunity' speech. 

I leave on Thursday this week.

As I keep reminding them.

I am NOT working another Friday like yesterday.  About an hour in, I was clearly reminded as to WHY I am leaving.  Once again, I packed up my stethoscope yesterday in hopes I grow a perfectly large set of cajones this weekend and don't show up on Monday.

But I am nicer than that.  I'll go in...and cuss all day in my head.

I couldn't hear myself think, I couldn't think, and I wanted to hurl a clipboard at a co worker because she wouldn't answer the fucking phone...kept acting like she didn't hear it.

I've bought my binders and page protectors for my new job.  I'll have lists of passwords, resources and notes organized.  There will be no more sifting through post it notes taped randomly on a wall.

I hate random notes taped to a wall.

Sometimes You have to Suck it Up for a While

My new doctors office leaves a LOT to be desired.

They are cluttered.

I hate clutter.

They are stupid crazy unbelievably crazy busy.

Busy is fine...but every day I feel like I am on the fucking floor at the Stock Exchange...slinging charts and post its around.  Yelling across each other to find this blood work, that urine, this CT, that XRay.

There is NO Structure.  And the employees don't seem to mind.  They work in a tornado...

I absolutely cannot stand it.

I send The Husband at least one text a day lamenting my desire to quit, run away, and never go there again.

I haven't even asked for a key.

Because I really don't want one.  I don't want to have the ability to go in early...or on the weekend.

I don't CARE anymore.

I want to leap across the desk and yell at patients for being assholes.

I want to sling charts straight up in the air and tell everyone to pretty much suck it.

But I haven't.

I've managed my southern charm and professional ways.

And I landed a brand new job.

I turn my resignation in to Hell Job on Friday.

I'm hoping they tell me to just leave.  I want to mail the letter tomorrow and say Fuck It.  But...I'll be professional and not throw gasoline on the bridge I soooo want to set on fire.

I start my New Job in August.  With a new doc, in a structured corporate group practice...with rules, and no clutter.

Imagine that...No Clutter.  A dedicated Front Desk and Billing Department.  I don't have to tell people what their balances are or get yelled at.

Sometimes you just have to suck it up for a while.

And the big benefit, I get two weeks vacation, a year...starting NOW.  Not January 2014 as is my new company policy.

Yes, you read that right.  And by the way, it was only ONE WEEK in 2014.  I had to wait unitl 2015 for two weeks.

And....I got a 20 cent on the hour raise!

I did the Happy Butt Dance in the driveway...

Summer Time

Just some pics from our summer so far...

Kiddo's Costume Interpretation of Spiderman.

Yes my friends...that IS underwear as Spiderman's mask.

Riding a Bike!  When did Kiddo grow up?!

Very first School Bus Ride.  It was a shuttle to the Patriotic Festival at Virginia Beach, but he didnt' care...he was on a bus.

Virginia Beach...right before she knocked him over, rolled him around, threw him out on the sand, and rolled him again.  He never lost the hat. But he refused to go near the water for about three hours.

Blue Angels Rock

Cape Hatteras National Seashore.  Yay for being able to drive out and 'set up camp' for the day.  Boo for the new $120 fee to drive out and 'set up camp' for the year.

SuperMan Monster Truck while stopping to see Grave Digger

My little Archer!  Quiver is a paper towel roller wrapped in Army Duct Tape.  He's pretty damn good if I do say so myself.  He managed to lose Bow Privileges for a week because he was shooting at the TV.

Iron Man.  Bicycle helmet and Lightning McQueen Headlamp

First Fireworks/Concert.  He yelled 'Awesome' the whole time.

Beginning of the Most Miserable Heat Wave EVER

Continuation of Most Miserable Heat Wave EVER

My Kiddo.  He's pretty awesome.

I can't see when I do this...

Yesterday was Kiddo's first trip to the Eye Doctor.

I've talked it up for a week...trying to prep him.

There are no shots at the Eye Doctor.

There are no blood pressure cuffs at the Eye Doctor.

They don't take blood at the Eye Doctor.

The Eye Doctor is super cool.

He wasn't buying it...at all.

A Freak Out occured on the way to the Eye Doctor...a total Melt Down getting out of the car occured in the One Thousand Degree Heat Wave Infused parking lot.

But, by the time we got in there, things had simmered down, and Kiddo was more interested in all the gears and gadgets the Eye Doctor had.

The Husband went first...since his Eye Exam consists of 'read the bottom line' 'look at this light' 'everything looks good'.  Only this time, one small snag.  He has to go back for dilation at the end of this month because his retina is thinning.  Very common, but the Eye Doctor wants to check it.

Kiddo hops right into the big chair and reads his letters...lets the Eye Doctor shine the lights...follows the pen...and even manages to do the depth perception and color blindness tests with ease.

No screaming, no fighting...no fits of any kind.

It was a Heat Wave Miracle!

You don't know how relieved I was.

You see...when I was five...the Dumbass Eye Doctor that my parents took me to showed me pictures of houses and chickens.

Well, Fuck.  I could see those were house and chickens.  Blurry as hell, but I knew what they WERE.  If they had shown me letters, like my mother demanded, they would have picked up on my vision problems much earlier than the Third Grade When I Coudn't See Shit.

But then again, my Mom didn't take me to another eye doc until I couldn't read the damned score board at a basketball game.  So there is plenty of blame to go around...but I'm not bitter.  It would have just meant I would have been wearing those stupid thick ass glasses much earlier and recevied a few more years of teasing.

The Eye Doctor to Kiddo "Are you having any problems with your eyes?  Do they feel ok?"

Kiddo ponders a moment, and very matter of factly looks at the Eye Doctor and says "One Problem.  I can't see when I do this"

And he shuts his eyes tightly.

What is a Derecho?

Last Friday...this Wall of Terror came roaring from the Great Lakes to pretty much terrorize 600 miles of people that had no idea it was coming.

It was called a Derecho. Please feel free to Google.

Basically it's Wall of Terror, combining high winds, hail, heavy rain, unbelievable lightning...and did I mention Wind?

I saw said Derecho on my Facebook from my Wxrisk guy.

Hmmmmm...I said.  As I am sipping my iced lemonade on the back deck...Tiki torches blazing, watching Kiddo play in the pool...sweating but not too badly.  Hmmmm...  What the Fuck is That?

Big line of RED roaring down upon my parents.

So I called said parents.

Said parents are headed up the mountain to a catfish tournament (big deal in Hillbillyville).

I told said parents to get their asses home...

Said parents scoffed and said they were going to get their beans (bowl of brown beans and cornbread), then they'd head home.

This is the same parents that call me everytime it looks like it 'might' snow a bit.  And panics when we are under a tornado watch.  My Mother will literally text me constantly to ask if I am Ok...'look to the skies'...etc.

Again...I tell said parents to get their asses home.  They had about thirty minutes.

Said parents say Ok...I don't believe them.

I showed The Husband the radar.  The Husband frowns...we both hope it fizzles once it hits the Blue Ridge. 

I call said parents a half an hour later.  I've been watching the Radar, and my Facebook is now full of up to the second weather/power outage/trees down/carnage reports in the area.

Said parents can't get home.  They sought shelter at a former classmate's house and are hanging out in his basement while the winds roar.

I told you so.

I watch the Radar...

And I realize...Shit...this shit isn't fizzling out...it seems to be getting stronger.

We should be ok...really...no alerts up for here yet.

Take Kiddo up to bed...read some more reports of weather/power outages/trees down/carnage from back home.

Watch Radar....we should be Ok...I think.

Get ready for bed...grab a shower...find a flashlight...take dog out.

Shit.

From the back deck you can see the strobe lights flashing. 

Only it isn't strobe lights...its lightning.

Something wicked this way comes....and we are screwed.

We have one lantern that works...the flashlight is questionable.

We'll be Ok.

Climb into bed...turn on the TV.

And the power goes out.

SHIT.

Flashbacks of Hurrican Irene roll through my mind as The Husband and I wait for our eyes to adjust to the dark...and as The Dog immediately starts pacing like a maniac...

Then we tried to find the flashlight and lantern I had set out...

Yeah...that was fun...along with stepping on various Avengers in the process.

Why do we have to have this kind of storm...I am so not prepared.

At least I could see that one coming for crying out loud.  I didn't have time to shop, or anything in preparation.  I'm just standing here...watching my trees bend and the lightning flash...

The Parents call...they are home...had to wait on folks to clear the road of the fallen trees.  They have no power and as my mother put it 'it looks like a bomb went off'.

Goodie.

I didn't tell them we didn't have any juice, nor that the sky looked like a strobe light.  No need to add to their present situation.

I stand on the back deck and press down the urge to panic. 

Then our crazy backyard neighbors start acting weird.

The wind is HOWLING...the strobe lights are keeping it so lit I can watch everything...

And they are out in there in the backyard with flashlights waving them around like lightsabers.

Surely a tree didn't go through their house...I didn't hear anything.

What the fuck are they doing....

And the rain drives them inside.

Kiddo wakes up...

We realize this is not going to be good.

And we wait...and I pace...and I pace...Kiddo is asleep in the middle of our bed...the wind is screaming...

I'm standing stock still in the dining room staring out the back door.  Listening to random things thunk against the house.

I watch the radar but I don't have much battery left on my phone...

The Husband's phone is Dead.  Of course.

Suddenly...poof...it's done.

A few more strobe lights...and its black outside...and still.

Too still.

This is weird....really weird.

We access we have no damage...and see other neighbors flashlights blinking in the darkness. 

Crap....its like 110 degrees outside during the day...this is NOT going to be good...at all...ever.

So we go to bed...all three of us in one bed...on top of the covers...and The Dog laying in the floor. 

It's silent...and you can hear each of us breathing...and The Dog is nervous.

He hates the dark...so he's panting...

And Slurping.

And Smacking his Big Boxer Lips.

And Slurping.

Pant...Pant....Pant...

Slurp...Smack...Schlurrrrp...Pant Pant Pant.

Holy Fuck Dog...

I fuss at him....

The Husband fusses at him...

I grabbed the flashlight and stumbled into the dark kitchen to find his Stash of Doggie Valium.

A piece of Cheese and a Xanax later (for the dog)...we settle for the night.  It's about 1am.

530a...the Fucking alarm goes off.

You're kidding me right? 

Someone...not saying who...didn't turn HIS battery alarm off for HIS shooting tournament this morning.

It's daylight outside...it's gonna get Real Hot soon.

After letting Doped Dog out...and seeing that the neighbors only have a few small limbs down...we converse as Kiddo sleeps.

We have three options:

1)  Ride this out with a Generator and a Box Fan.

2)  Close up the House, take The Dog to the Kennel and go somewhere for the weekend and run the Credit Card up a bit.

3)  Close up the House, take The Dog to the Kennel, say Fuck It and visit the Inlaws.

We debate...I check our stash of food in the fridge and freezer.  Other than about ten pounds of chicken breasts, there really isn't any thing that's worth a gazillion dollars of gas and lots of sweating.

So we Close up the House...take the Dog to the Kennel (where he has a back up generator system for the dogs) and we drive to Visit the Inlaws.

Five hours later...we pull into the Inlaws driveway.

It's a Gazillion Degrees outside...

The Husband's freshly charged cell phone rings...

It's our Neighbor.

We got our Power Back!

Of course...that's how it always works.

We were crazy lucky...I mean super dooper Crazy Lucky!

Dear Derecho...I don't need a repeat...Thanks!

A Bit Irritating...

Kiddo and I ventured to a local library this evening.

Being as I have never had a job to accomodate such after hours adventures to local libraries, this is a fun pass time he and I share now.

I spent a LOT of time in our local libary last fall...studying...reading...watching movies using their wifi.

He and I would go in, try new books, new movies...and just enjoy.

We have tons of libraries close by, so we tried one that we haven't been too before on the way home tonight.  Honestly...I had never noticed it before..it's tucked back and away off the road. 

They have a wonderful calendar full of summer goodies for families. 

I picked up the catalog with glee!  Yay!  Some fun freebie things to do.

Then I was quite disappointed....

Yeah....99% of their 'family activities' are geared towards those children that have a stay at home parent.

Almost every stinking 'family activity' was at 10a on a Tuesday or Wednesday.

Really?

Are you kidding me?!

This irritates me to no end.

Rec Leagues do it with sports teams.  Practice and games start at 5p!  Come on folks!  Lots of people work UNTIL 5p for crying out loud.  Trying to juggle...give me until 6p or 630p at the latest.

I'm so glad that so many families do enjoy a stay at home parent.  I enjoyed being a part time stay at home mom.

But for crying out loud...please realize that some of us work!

We'd love to participate....

I'd love to enjoy a 'family activity' with my kid, but I cannot miss work to attend a Magic Show...or an awesome Song and Dance Program.

Nope...I work.

So Kiddo is stuck with whatever his Preschool does during the summer...which is fine.  They had a Magician last week...and have a Puppet Show next week.

And I feel guilty for not enjoying these things WITH HIM.

The five events that are held on the weekends (Saturday mornings at 10a)....are already completely 'sold out' for the summer.

Hmmmph.

*Holding my hands up in the air* ALL DONE!

Today was my very last day of class.

Yup.

I'm ALL DONE.

I've spent the last four days in 'Career Development'. 

Basically I emailed my resume to the Career Services Department, she couldn't pick it apart...I dilly dallied in the computer lab and I went to work after taking myself out to lunch at my favorite Mexican Place...while I read a non educational book.

I had the joy of watching the required 'You had better Pay your Student Loan Back' video.

I advised the Financial Aid lady that her numbers about what I owed was vastly wrong...and she found the error of her ways.

I dilly dallied some more and hung out with my old classmates.

In one month I am scheduled to take the National Medical Assistant Certification Test.

I had better study my ass off.

Cause if I fail...I'll just die.

The Externship is DONE.  I am now an official employee.

I'm busy as Hell and my knees hurt. 

I ordered new shoes from Amazon...I hope that helps.

Less money than my old job, more hours, so it balances out.  I guess.

I bought a purse today.  A lovely ORANGE purse from Kohls.

See, I had promised myself and awesomely awesome Coach bag when I started working full time.

I'm not working full time, and my salary is MUCH LESS than what I was going to make at my original job before she pulled the Plug and Retired.

So I put off The Purse.

Considering The Husband made a comment that my purse was 'getting ratty', I figured it was time to do something.  And I was in Kohl's...wasting time before I had to arrive for Student Appreciation.

Coach is not in the Budget...but Nine & Co 30% off plus an extra 30% off special coupon was.

So it is now mine.

And I am DONE.

WHOOT WHOOT!

I spent the day with my old peeps from class.  It was nice to hang out at the Student Appreciation Event.  Even if I was afraid to eat any of the food they had prepared for our cook out.  It was 110 degrees outside and I stood in line with my hand over the top of my head to prevent sunburn in my bangs part (a really bad spot for me...and I combust in direct sunlight anyway).

I drank two ice cold Mtn Dews and chatted...and laughed...and missed everyone.

I wore my green scrubs one last time.

I left at 12:50p with everyone else and headed home (since Thursday is now my day off).

And I felt good.

I've had anxiety attacks for the past two weeks about finances...but if I would relax and look...we are doing just fine...thank you very much.

I told Kiddo 'Mommy is done with School...yay right!?'  He high fived me and then asked 'Do I have to go to school tomorrow?' 

Yes son, you do...

He wasn't thrilled...at all.

Mommy left him a little GI Bill....he'll be fine.

At this rate...

It's been weeks since I have blogged, and I started feeling a little withdrawal.

Plus, I hadn't caught up on the latest Big Bang Theory nor How I Met Your Mother either...

I'm way behind.

But life is good.

I'm busy.

Stupid crazy I can't believe I got myself into this mess kind of busy.

My Externship is flying by.  I finished Week 2 with a Good Evaluation.   I was hoping for an Outstanding Evaluation but I have only been there two weeks and I think Good will suffice.

They are one super dooper busy practice.  I mean, I never SIT!

At this rate, I should lose some more pounds...soon.

The fact that I pack my lunch every day rather than ordering out like the rest of the staff should help too.

Two more weeks and I am done with this crazy idea of mine.  School will be done, I'll be able to work for a paycheck and maybe I can breathe for a while.

I hope so anyway.

Recovery

Oh, the past two weeks have been a whirlwind.

I'm sorta healed up from the Shingles From Hell.  Thank goodness I had a very small case and most of the rash was hidden in my hair.

This does not mean that it was pain free and without discomfort.

Oh no...it SUCKED.

The pain was followed by some righteous itching..and the desperate need to dig the hell out of my hair with a brush.

Which I did one night...then washed my hair and washed my hair and washed my hair again. 

My forehead and hairline still hurt every time the sun touches it...and the left side of my face has been weirdly numb off and on for the past few days.  Like novacaine numb.  Very weird.  Doc said that might happen with the nerve damage done by the shingles.  My favorite part is my left eyelid going numb.  Pretty sweet.

Not really.

No one else in the house caught the Chickenpox from me...so I count my blessings.

I went on four interviews during my recovery.  One was a joke, the second was ok, the third was really hopeful, and the fourth was a score!

The third though, has a great story.

I know I talk...a lot.  But I can control it, and will not jabber your ear completely off and give you my life story.

I'm just an extrovert.

It's who I am.

I interviewed for job #3 and a very well established large family practice.

I interviewed with the office manager, my counterpart Medical Assistant, and the Doctor that I would be working with.

It would have been an awesome job, and I won the interview.

But during the course of the conversation with the office manager when she called to offer the job, I discover that the Doctor found me annoying and felt I talked too much.  She said if I didn't work out with him, she'd find me another position in the office.

Uhm...excuse me?

I'm not just sure what the Doctor wanted me to do...do the interview in Sign Language? 

I answered his questions.  Sometimes with a sentence or two.

But no paragraphs.

I was very subdued and constrained during the interview. 

Believe me, I know how to act in public.

The Husband and I had tried to justify the job during the wait to find out if they were going to offer it to me.

It was 40 miles away, and the hours were all over the freaking place.

This was not going to work.

So with the Annoying Comment, I just said 'No Thank You' and moved on.

Damn...if I annoyed him in three minutes, I'm not sure working with him would be a bowl of cherries.  More like the pits.

Same day I turned down Annoyed Doc, I had another Doc call our office looking for an MA.

Guess who jumped on the opportunity and scored a great new office....

Me!

That's who!

Whoot!

Hardy Har Har

Best. Shit. Ever.

Right here folks...the Aveeno Anti Itch good for the Pox that ails ya.

I only stood in Walgreens for twenty minutes weighing my options and level of itch/infection/pain before I settled on this product...pretty much because it wasn't goopy runny calamine but had calamine in it.

There was no way in Hell I was going to ask the Pharmacist for help.  I am not mentioning the word Shingles in public, nor was I going to ask the same Kid that gave me this shit for help.

Yes, I totally blame him and the third Hepatitis B shot for this outbreak.

But back to the Glorious Aveeno.

Relief.

And you can put it in your hair.

I'm too old for this shit.  I really am.

Shingles sucks eggs.  I've moved past the Horrific Agonizing Pain and onto the Stupid Can't Scratch It Itch.

I'm not really sure what is worse.

At least the pain wasn't visible...only blinding and made me twitch and clutch my head on occasion.  I mean, it only looked like I was having an inward conversation with some sort of mind control razor wielding creature.

But alas, I have a job interview tomorrow...at 4pm.

Thank goodness it's with the walk in clinic that diagnosed me.  They said it's fine to come in...I just had to promise not to rub heads with anyone.

Hardy har har...

So guess what I managed to get...

I'm 37 years old.

I'm a healthy female.

Other than the herniated discs in my neck...and my fibromyalgia...with the occassional migraine...

I have bronchitis once in a while, and catch colds...

Have had Herpangina (the adult form of hand, foot and mouth disease)...O.M.G so very very painful.

Now I have the icing on the cake.

Shingles.

Uh huh...oh yes... shingles. 

I have fucking shingles.

What. The. Fuck.

Started Monday morning with the headache of all headaches.  Felt like a head injury headache.

Popped a few Motrin every few hours and dealt with it.

Tuesday...felt semi OK.  Still had a horribly sore spot on my head and was exhausted.  Called in sick to work.  Slept all afternoon.

WebMD'd the hell out of my symptoms.

Nothing.

Wednesday felt pretty ok.  Sore spot was miserable.  The throbbing in my jaws was awful.  Took myself to local walk in clinic.  Explained the head injury pain.  Explained my lack of nausea and light sensitivity. 

They sent me to the ER.  I hung out in the ER and was beginning to think I wasn't drunk or bloody enough to be there.  They pumped me up with Dacradon, Toradol and something else.  I felt pretty good.

Thursday...go to class.  Feeling OK.  Tired.  Pain on top of head and ice picks are jabbing away.

Friday...go to work.  Clinic calls to follow up.  I told them my pain was still a 7.  They wanted me back in to do a CT scan.  So my doc sends me on my way.

CT scan comes back normal.  New pain meds...

Nada...still wanting to cut the top of my head off.  Now the pain has spread to my jaw, forehead and my left eye brow is numb.

My parents show up because my mom can't stand not knowing if I am OK.

The Husband leaves for Drill on Saturday morning.  My left eye feels funny.  

Oh goodie...its almost swollen shut.

Awesome.

So my dad and I go to the clinic again...and then I practically break out right there in the room.

I have shingles.

Lovely lovely shingles.

Thankfully most are in my scalp/hair.  I have three bumps on my forehead.

I cried.

I have a big job interview on Tuesday.  I've had to notify my doctor (who was very sympathetic and understanding), my maid, my son's daycare teacher and my school.

I had a huge crying jag, very similar to the one I had when I was eight and had the chickenpox.

I've slept in a vicodin/prednisone/valtrex induced coma all day while my parents took care of Kiddo.

I wanted to explain to the pharmacist why I was picking up valtrex, but didn't feel like it.  If he thinks I have the Naughty Naughty Disease, oh well.

And if the Naughty Naughty Disease feels anything like this Down There...I am sorry.

This shit hurts...like bad. 

Lucky Girl

I have this crazy talent...

It's not crafty...heavens forbid I have to do a school project with Kiddo.  I may cry.  I hate glitter and glue. 

Especially glitter.

I'm an OK cook but nothing exciting.

I don't have a flair for fashion, or hair...

And I definitely absolutely positively CANNOT sing.  Kiddo fusses in the back seat because 'you are sounding wrong Mom!'

I find Four Leaf Clovers.

Everywhere.

Like a gazillion of them.

It's something to do with my OCD thing with patterns.  If something is out of the ordinary, it immediately catches my eye.

Sheetrock cracks...oil spots in the driveway...mortar cracks outside in the exposed brick (most of those are imaginary)...I have a severe problem with things that are out of order.

And Four Leaf Clovers clearly fall into that category.

This is a sample of the past week or so...

First Batch...

Two Days Later...



And the Big One...a Five Leaf Clover. 

I have found a Six Leaf Clover before...but I like the Fives too.

Hoping that eventually all this Good Luck rubs off.  I do have an interview on Monday with a local walk in clinic chain that we have here.  Maybe I'll put the Fiver in my pocket.



Big Time Bummed

Yeah...it's been a week of job searching and nothing has panned out.

I know I know...patience.  A week...big deal.

Most of the problem is that I am not certified and still in school.  My resume is automatically being tossed.

So I need to wait.

And it's killing me.

And I think I wrote this same post last fall.

But I'm really bummed.

And disappointed.

And angry.

Damn it.

The Husband says everything will be fine. 

I'm not so sure.

Of course I am a bit of a pessimist anyway.

I wrote out an email to the Housekeeper this morning ending her services at the end of May.  I can live without them even if I do get a job.  It's been nice, but I have to do some cutting somewhere.

The next to go is the Trash Pick up service.

I've cut the cable as far as I can, and the phones.   So the rest is just basics...Insurance, Utilities.  We will be fine with that budget.

I'm just annoyed...I had everything planned out.  Had a great place to work.  Had learned so much.  Now, just to get someone to notice me.

I'm a good employee.  I'm there on time.  I don't call in.  I don't start drama.  I listen and keep my mouth shut. 

Something will work out...it has to.  Otherwise this is all a huge fucking waste.

Curveball

You know those days, when you are happily cruising down the Highway of Life...slurping your Caffeine Free Diet Mtn Dew (sometimes I wonder why I don't just drink water because that is pretty much a useless concoction in a bottle)...when suddenly you hit a piece of metal in the road that all of the other cars have managed to bypass...blowing out two pretty much brand new and filled with Nitrogen (don't get me started) tires...and knicking the third one pretty badly....thus resulting in a Tow, the purchase of four brand new (non Nitrogen filled) tires and being three hours later to pick up Kiddo on the Day He Was Supposed to Pick Up Kiddo so I could go to a late appointment at my Wonderful Therapist, also resulting in me cancelling my appointment and dashing to get Kiddo...

I didn't do that...The Husband did.

And I digress...not really...he isn't home yet...I'm fuming.  Not because of the blown tires, but because he opted to add on an Alignment to the new said tires thus adding ANOTHER FREAKING HOUR to his delay.

But the Highway of Life has thrown us a curveball.

Due to Circumstances Beyond Her Control, The Doc is going to have to close her practice in June.  It boils down to two other OB/GYN's being assholes and denying coverage for her at the Hospital...thus eliminating her Privileges.

You can't be an OB/GYN and not deliver babies...or perform surgeries...etc.

So she has no other option than to close up her small practice.

This sucks eggs all the way around.

And I got to hear my Doc cry.

I was getting super comfortable there.  I've given injections...learned soooo much....and was really happy.

Therefore, I'm job hunting again.

Damnit.

Assholes.

I really needed that Therapy appointment today.

Announcements

Kiddo has a Big Mouth.

Like I have said before, I have NO idea where he got that trait.

*BLINKING INNOCENTLY HERE*

He also likes Toy Story.

So I will segway into our conversation in Target on Saturday night.

"Mom!  They have Toy Story toys!!"

"Kiddo, we are not getting a Toy Story toy...this is not shopping for a prize"

"Mom!  They have Woody!"

I'm going to interrupt here with my personal thoughts on a few things.  One...whoever in the hell named that characted Woody needs to go shopping with a three/four year old in a toy store.  Come on!  Woody...give me a break!  It's as bad as Percy being pronounced by a two year old.  Again, the Namer needs beaten.

Back to the story:

"No Kiddo"

And then he belts out....

"Mom!  I want the WIGGLY WOODY!  Not the HARD WOODY!  I want a WIGGLY WOODY!"

I couldn't fucking push the buggy fast enough.

And The Husband had to step into an aisle and laugh until he cried.

Catching Up

I've been meaning to do a blog entry lately...but usually something happens that keeps me from sitting down in front of my computer for about ten minutes at a stretch...

Someone needs to poop...usually the dog.

Someone needs fed...usually the kid.

Someone needs to do homework...usually me.

Someone needs to put together yet another presentation of some sort...usually The Husband.

In other words, I haven't really popped open my own laptop for an extended stretch for nearly a month now.

Here's a Recap.

The Husband has adjusted well and it's as if he never left.  Between the Therapist I made him go to (well, he had no problem with going so it isn't like I twisted his arm), to the fact that neither one of us had an uber stressful separation...things have been good.

OTHER THAN the fact that he CANNOT stop buying Kiddo STUFF.  He's creating a mini monster that wants a prize everytime we stop the car....whether it's at an Exxon station or Target.  I've had to draw the line in the sand a few times.  But then he sneaks and orders from Amazon.  Ridiculous.  We are working on it.  I'm going to have to pull his password privileges.

We've done some super cool stuff.  Circus, Museum of Natural History, Surry-Jamestown Ferry, and SNOW!

My 37th Birthday has come and gone.  I was fine until one of my classmates announced  "Oh My God! My Mom is like only 42!"  Well shit sweetheart...thanks.

I've drawn blood on four people now.  My first was The Husband in a private training session at the Fire House where he works.  That was cool.  I was deemed a 'Good Stick'.  I'll take that as a compliment.  I guess.  :)  Considering I didn't bruise him at all.  Plus, I didn't really realize blood was REALLY that red.  We've been drawing on fake arms for so long, I was used to the red kool aid color.

10 more weeks of class and then I am out on externship.  Then done.  Fifteen weeks total.  I cannot wait.  I'm tired of juggling.  It's been awesome though.

I'm still loving my job.  I'm becoming jaded though regarding a few things.  Too many little girls rolling in there pregnant and their mom's are giving them their 'privacy'.  Give me a break.  That's what got you the hell in the mess.  I'm glad I am not in the dating pool...I think STD's are a new rage of some sort...I didn't know THAT many people were trucking around with all kinds of things going on Down There.  But I'm learning and enjoying my job.  So grateful to have a job too!

And The Husband is a Changed Man.  I've brought him over the Dark Side.  Pedicures.  He went with me during our Date Weekend and is addicted as sin.   We had a babysitter this past weekend so that we could get our truck taken care of (sold the old one, bought a new one and didn't want to have to wrestle Kiddo at a Dealership).  So we went again as a treat.  I have a new Pedi Partner...and the girls at the nail salon get a huge kick out of GI Joe getting his toes done.   Stand back girls...he's ALL mine!

Please

I've now been working in an OB/GYN office since December and am truly an expert in everything OB/GYN related.

Yeah...not so much...

Considering Doc went to school for like a gazillion years and I've managed to acquire a Broadcasting/Journalism degree that was useless and now in school for a Medical Assistant Certification.

Yeah...I'm an expert.

Insert *snort* here.

However, people think I am an expert when they find out where I work.

My newest replies are...

"You might want to call your doctor" 

"Hmmm..have you talked to your doctor"
 
"Oh. My. GOD...that happens right before YOU DIE!"

Well...I've wanted to use that last one, but haven't.

I am truly loving my job, and most days feel like I am behind the power curve by quite a bit...but I am getting there and enjoying it very much.

There are a few things I want to get off my chest however.

When you call for an appointment...I NEED to KNOW what it is that YOU NEED.  Telling me one thing, and then showing up for a whole other issue FUCKS our day up.  A simple 'yeast infection' visit is blocked off as just a few minutes on the schedule.  However, if you roll in and decide that you need a full on round of cultures because your boyfriend was cheating on you....and you have some funny stuff going on 'down there'...and you need it checked...then that takes longer....and I get in trouble because I don't have you scheduled right.

Plus, if we have you scheduled for A...and you show up for D...and your insurance won't cover D...you've wasted our time, your time...everybody's time. 

I am NOT going to judge you.  Just TELL me.  Believe me...you won't be the first, nor the last...nor the worst.

Next...if I ask for a urine sample...just pee in the effing cup.  Come one ladies.  We are not partying with it after hours.  We are not selling it on the black market...or gold market.  We don't care if you gave a sample at the other doctors office this morning.   I need you to pee in the cup.  Just pee.  Please...just pee and don't give me a hard time.  I really don't want to mess with it either, but something might come up during the exam and we need that pee.  You can tell a lot from pee... just pee in the cup.

If you are going to make an appointment...please keep the appointment, or call.  You've just blocked off half an hour for an annual visit and you didn't show.  Yeah, it opens us up to get paperwork and other stuff done, but it costs us a visit that we could have used for someone that really needed to be seen today. 

And pee in that cup...pretty please.

Shocking...

Kiddo had his first Parent Teacher Conference on Monday night.

A week before the Blessed Event, I actually received the paperwork home via his backpack (the Folder is a Freaking Flop by the way).

The Husband and I were asked to sit down and write down Kiddo's 'Likes' and 'Dislikes'.  Plus, we were asked to discuss what we felt were his strengths and weaknesses, and 'Issues You Feel We Need to Address'.

Being the honest Parents that The Husband and I are...we realize that Kiddo has some Issues.

Even though we think he is the Most Perfect, Most Wonderful, Smartest, sometimes Most Irritating Little Boy on the Planet...

The Issues are as Follows:

Following Directions.

Paying fucking attention to something...other than Cars, or Thomas, or shiny objects.

And he Talks too Much.

Now...I have NO idea where he gets these traits. 

I'm pretty quiet.  My own mother has stated that I started talking when I was nine months old and haven't shut up since....

Oh wait...

Hmmmm....

But anywhoo...we go in, sit down in the itty bitty chairs...

Kiddo thinks he is in trouble...I've explained he is Not.

Teacher #1 and Teacher #2 smile and laugh...we go over the List.

Number one:  We all agree he likes Preschool.

Number two:  We all agree that he likes his Friends.

Number three:  We all agree that he does not like packing his lunch (that's an entire fricking fracking blog in itself).

Number four:  We all agree that he is happy that Dad is home.

Number five:  This is where we discover that our child is really the same kid at home that he is at school...

He thinks Directions and Instructions are for Sissies apparently. 

Standing in Line...yeah right. 

Sitting down...double yeah right. 

Participating in classroom activities...triple yeah right. 

He's smart...very articulate...talks well and is excelling with the preschool academics even better...

But being still...not on his Agenda...

Teacher #1 and Teacher #2 agree that it doesn't seem he has an underlying issue (I know where they were going)...but its just the fact that he has Other Things to Do.

Awesome.

Another year in Preschool will help this issue quite a bit...and we agree.  Since he is an August baby, and much to my Father In Law's Bitter Resignation...he is being held for Kindergarten until he is six. 

Another year of Tuition...Goodie.

And packing that Stupid Lunch every day.

I hate Packing Lunch.

Unpacking

Since The Husband came home, he's been unpacking...bit by bit.

Our upstairs guest room looks like the Army threw up from end to end.

Last time he came home, Kiddo was so small...and when The Husband started unpacking, he proceeded to grab his Gold Spurs and poke them right in his mouth.  I have an awesome pic of that. 

This time, Kiddo hasn't ventured up into the Guest Room to see the mess...

But today, The Husband and I worked all morning on finding our house underneath the clutter and mess.

My poor housekeeper...I left her a note apologizing for the mess...I'm sure she has seen worse.

The Husband started unpacking the huge gorilla boxes that he sent over a few weeks before he left from Over There.

They have been stacked behind my couch in the living room because that is as far as I was able to drag the lead lined brick loaded vertebra busting heavy ass things.

And Kiddo had a bit of a freak out moment.

This is the Kid that has dealt with The Husband being gone pretty well.  He has really managed to deal with him being Back Home even better. 

Never missed a beat.

Until today.

It was sad really.

"Dad!  Are you going back to Drill?!  DAD!"  as he was running from the dining room towards The Husband.  He wrapped his little hands over the top of the gorilla box and looked up at The Husband with these really wide blue eyes.

The Husband tried to explain he was just unpacking his stuff...but Kiddo wasn't really accepting that too much.  He actually grabbed the hat out of The Husband's hands and tossed it back in the box. 

Poor Kiddo.

The Husband stopped working on the box of stuff and closed the lid.

It can wait another day.

I dread The Husband's First Drill Weekend in March.  This is gonna be really interesting.

I'm not sure Kiddo isn't going to freak out a bit.

Extra hands...

Since April of last year, I have been busting my tail trying to keep everything in some sort of order...

Dinner, dishes, laundry, Kiddo...feed The Dog, feed The Cat before she claws the front door to shreds because her 16 pound self cannot wait five seconds longer to be fed...can you tell The Cat and I are not getting along all that well?

In there I had homework, studying, bills...errands.

It was a hell of a lot easier when I wasn't working...

Then I started working and wondered what in the hell was I thinking?  Nothing got done...I was spinning!

BUT, I now have a Great Husband 2000 that does laundry, dishes, keeps up with The Dog (The Cat is still a bit of an issue but that's mostly HER problem), took The Dog to the vet twice, prepares most dinners, jump starts my car when I have left the dome light on for three days, called AT&T and reupped our minutes so that we can share now, handled a Pediatrician appointment, one car repair is looming, and he occupies Kiddo while I study....

It's so nice to have him home.

I will honestly say, he's doing great...once he got all of the running around to stores thing out of his system after the first week. 

I hit a wall the second week.

Wives who have their husbands gone for long stretches of time will understand this comparison.  He was pissing in my litterbox and I was getting very territorial.

I was getting aggravated at everything.  The phone ringing, his piles of Army Throw Up all over the house and upstairs.  The extra laundry (that he was doing by the way).  I was not used to having another adult in the house with an actual opinion.    I wanted to pick a fight.

Nothing is more annoying than being undermined by a Husband that has Deployment Guilt and is spoiling Kiddo incessantly.  I had to step away...and then talk about it later to him.  There were other things involved, and I had to hike up my skirts and get over the wall...after I kicked it a few minutes.

So Momma had to take a deep breath and lighten up a bit. 

So far, things are going smoothly and we are looking at week four of him being home soon.  At this point last time we had had more than a few head banging moments...he'd went for a few drives, I had went for a few drives, we'd yelled.

Not so much this go round.

Yay.

It's going to be harder when he goes back to work in another month, but we will rock it out.

PS...Funny story.  Brought The Husband home from the Airport.  Settled in and hid from The Neighbors.  Went to bed.  I woke up at 3a...very disoriented and confused.  My heart was pounding...I was quite frightened.  There was someone in the bed with me...oh gawd there is someone in the bed with me!  I start to ease myself out of the bed so as not to wake The Freak...wondering why in the world someone was in the bed with me.   I had plotted in my head how to get me and Kiddo out of the house without being heard.  I had completely sat up, and was getting ready to slide on off the mattress when I realized... "Oh hell...It's The Husband!" 

Guess what I picked up?

Nuff Said

:)

Old Lady Underwear

I'm knocking on forty.

I'm a tad overweight.

I'm not a fashionista by any stretch of the imagination.

But I draw the line at frumpy underwear.

I had to step over that line today and draw a new one.

For the New Year's Holiday, my office was closed...and Kiddo's Preschool was open.  So I took advantage and was a Bad Mommy. 

I dropped him off at 830a...for just half a day to alleviate the Guilt.

I dropped a package off at Staples for the UPS guy to take BACK to Fredericks of Hollywood.

You know that Hot Little Number that I bought as a Welcome Home Surprise for The Husband.

Yeah...the model needs to eat a pizza and I need to remember that I cannot buy anything mail order.

At least it was too big.

And not as Hot as the picture on the website...I was bummed.
Then I hit Macy's for some new bras.

They didn't have the ones I had bought before.  Unfortunately. 

Nor did they have a salesperson.  Anywhere.

Fine...I'll got to Victoria's Secret.

I'm not sure what happened to Vicci's in the past few years....but I really really think I have outgrown the place.

Or they've lost the little bit of class that they had.

Probably a bit of both...

I'm not up to having the word PINK on everything I wear...nor the word LOVE printed across my ass.

Writing on the ass is just screaming BILLBOARD....especially when you aren't the cute little size 2 eighteen and twenty year olds they are marketing to now.

Those bitches will just run up their credit card folks and not pay the bill...but you know that.

I walked in Victoria's Secret twice...once on my way through the mall and once on my way out.

Both times, I just got more disgusted and left.

Their bras won't hold up anything anymore...tother than the Size 2's...and their cotton panties have ruffles on the edges, words all over them, and they basically carry thongs...

Plus they aren't made as well as they used to be.  If I am going to spend $6 for a pair of underwear it had better make it through to the next Semi-Annual sale...lately...they have not.

Plus, I don't wear a thong.  If you want a thong, Vicci's is the place to be.

It's a permanent wedgie...thanks.

Fuck this.

I managed to find two bras at JCPenney that will suffice since they don't have the iron stiff underwire in them...and bought a package of Hanes panties at Target.

I haven't bought prepackaged underwear since I had Kiddo and bought Granny Panties for the hospital.

At least they are fun colors.