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...